CHAPTER XXX.

  TEMPTATION.

  We fell out, my wife and I, And kiss'd again with tears.

  Such being the state of things at Elysium, and such the state of Maud'sfeelings at the camp, imagine her dismay when Sutton came into the roomone morning, with a letter in his hand and a very vexed expression onhis face, and said: 'Is not this a bore, Maud? Here is a letter from theChief telling me to go and inspect and report on all the suspectedvillages at once and say what force we want. So we cannot go to Elysiumafter all.'

  'Not go to Elysium!' cried Maud, flushing red and the tears gathering toher eyes before she had time to check them. It seemed to her, poorchild, the very climax of disappointment.

  Her husband kissed her kindly. 'I did not know, dear,' he said, 'thatyou would care about it so much. I am such an old salamander myself thatI forget that other people don't enjoy being grilled as much as I do.But what can be done? These scoundrels--bad luck to them--must bereported on, and I must get the report finished before my autumn marchbegins.'

  'It cannot be helped, I suppose,' said Maud, in a tone of despair, andretreating gloomily to her bedroom; for the tears kept coming fast, andthe news seemed worse and worse each time she realised its importafresh. No Elysium! No holiday--no change--no charming balls--nobeautiful dresses--no pleasant rides--none of the nice scenes on whichher fancy had dwelt, the prospect of which had cheered her through thelong, dull spring--no bright companions, full of mirth and flattery anddevotion to herself! Alas! alas! Maud felt that her trouble was toogreat to bear.

  Sutton followed her presently, in a great state of perturbation at herdisplay of disappointment.

  'Come, Maud,' he said kindly, 'cheer up. You shall go and see Felicia ifyou like.'

  But, alas! Maud's tears had got the mastery of her. A long-pent-upstream of melancholy had burst and nothing could stop it. She wasinconsolable; the disappointment, in itself a great one, had found hernot too well prepared to bear it. She wept, and would not, or could not,be comforted.

  Sutton was completely disconcerted: to see her in trouble, and not beable to relieve it, wishing for anything that he could not give,grieving in this sort of hopeless fashion about what was to him scarcelymore than an annoyance, was a new experience, and one which he wasunprepared to meet. The fact was, though he did not know it, that Maudhad got her head full of nonsense about Elysium. Distance lentenchantment to the view, especially when the view was taken from thedusty, stupid camp. Mrs. Vereker's foolish letter sounded bright andalluring: Desvoeux's merry talk and romantic protestations, how full ofamusement, interest, excitement it all seemed! How unbearably dull incontrast the life about her! Sutton often absent, often tired andsilent; sometimes sad; never, Maud told herself, anything like amusing.Yes, it was too vexatious for all the heroism she could bring to bearupon it: her philosophy broke down.

  'I know it is a hard life here,' said her husband, in vain attempts atconsolation; 'it is hot and dull for you. I like it, but then I am usedto it. But what can I do? If only Felicia were at Elysium you might goup to her.'

  'There is Mrs. Vereker,' said Maud, suggestively.

  'Mrs. Vereker!' exclaimed Sutton, in consternation; 'you surely'----

  'She wrote very kindly the other day,' Maud said, cutting short herhusband's protestation, 'and asked me to stay with her in her cottage.'

  'But, Maud, you would not really like to go to her, would you?'

  'I should not like to go,' Maud said, 'if you disapproved.'

  'And I,' answered Sutton, suddenly nettled, 'would not have you stayunless you liked. How shall we decide?'

  'You must decide,' said his wife, too much excited and too anxious toknow well what she was about.

  'Very well,' said Sutton, kindly, but with a sad tone that haunted Maudin aftertimes, 'I will decide. You shall go.'

  Maud knew the tone in which he spoke as well as spoken words. She knewthe look when he was hurt; she had watched it before. It told her nowthat she had never wounded him so deeply as to-day. Her heart smote her.He had hardly gone before she longed to repent and stay; and yet shecould not make up her mind to the sacrifice which it would cost her. Shehad been reckoning so upon it that it seemed like the blotting out ofall the brightness of her life. The prospect of the dreary, lonelysummer, was too grievous. So her heart went swaying to and fro: she grewmore and more unhappy. Sutton was doubly kind and tender to her, andhis look smote her to the heart. At last her good angel carried the day.'Jem,' she said, 'I want to change my mind, please. I was mad just nowand do not know what possessed me. I do not want to go to Elysium oranywhere, if you cannot go with me. I am frightened at the idea of it,even at this distance. I am sure I should be wretched. You must forgiveme, and forget my foolish tears.'

  These two had perhaps never loved each other quite so much as at thismoment, nor Maud been ever quite so lovable. She was in her sweetestmood; she wore a bright, serene air which spoke of an unworthytemptation overcome, a higher happiness attained, a victory over herweaker, baser self. Already, as happens in such cases, it seemed to herincredible that she could have wished for the lower pleasure which hadso nearly won her. As for Sutton, the world was suddenly re-illumined tohim; the gloomy, terrible, agonising eclipse had passed: all wassunshine and joy. His face showed what he was feeling. He drew Maud tohim and kissed her with a serious, fervent air, as if it were an act ofworship; he held her as if it were impossible to him ever to let her go.Maud knew that his iron frame was shaken with vehement emotion; she sawa kind of rapture in his eyes, and read in them that she waswell-beloved.

  'Dear Maud,' he said, 'I should be wretched, the most miserable wretchalive, if ever any shade of doubt or coldness came between us two. Youhold my life, dear, in your hand: my heart is wholly yours and has noother life. If ever your love to me waned it would be death to me.'

  And Maud, as she looked and listened, knew that it would.

  'It can never wane, dear Jem,' she said, infected with her husband'smood and clinging to him, as was her wont, like a child that needsprotection. 'Every day you bind me closer to you; only I fear--and tentimes more after being such a goose as I was just now--that I am nothalf worthy of all you are to me.'