XXIX
Late that night, in the old panelled library at Bracondale, Hectorwalked up and down. He, too, was suffering, suffering intensely, hisonly grain of comfort being that he was alone. His mother was away inthe north with Anne, and he had the place to himself. In his hand wasTheodora's letter. As Josiah had calculated, knowing cross-countryposts, both his and hers had arrived at the same time.
Hector paced and paced up and down, his thoughts maddening him.
And so three people were unhappy now--not he and his beloved one alone.This was the greater calamity.
But how he had misjudged Josiah! The common, impossible husband hadbehaved with a nobility, a justice, and forbearance which he knew hisown passionate nature would not have been capable of. It had touched himto the core, and he had written at once in reply, enclosing Theodora'sletter about the arrival of the train.
"DEAR SIR,--I am overcome with your generosity and your justice. I thank you for your letter and for your magnanimity in forwarding the enclosure it contained. I understand and appreciate the sentiment you express when you say, had you been younger you would have killed me, and I on my side would have been happy to offer you any satisfaction you might have wished, and am ready to do so now if you desire it. At the same time, I would like you to know, in deed, I have never injured you. My deep and everlasting grief will be that I have brought pain and sorrow into the life of a lady who is very dear to us both. My own life is darkened forever as well, and I am going away out of England for a long time as soon as I can make my arrangements. I will respect your desire never to inform your wife of her mistake, and I will not trouble either of you again. Only, by a later post, I intend to answer her letter and say farewell. "Believe me, "Yours truly, "BRACONDALE."
This he had despatched some hours ago, but his last good-bye to Theodorawas not yet written. What could he say to her? How could he tell her ofall the misery and anguish, all the pain which was racking his being;he, who knew life and most things it could hold, and so could judge ofthe fact that nothing, nothing, counted now but herself--and they shouldmeet no more, and it was the end. A blank, absolute end to all joy.Nothing to exist upon but the remembrance of an hour or two's bliss anda few tender kisses.
And as Josiah had done, he could only say: "Oh, God! Oh, God!"
On top of his large escritoire there stood a minute and very perfectcopy of the fragment of Psyche, which he had so intensely admired. Heturned to it now as his only consolation; the likeness to Theodora wasstrong; the exact same form of face, and the way her hair grew; the pureline of the cheek, and the angle which the head was set on to the columnof her throat--all might have been chiselled from her. How often had heseen her looking down like that. Perhaps the only difference at all wasthat Theodora's nose was fine, and not so heavy and Greek; otherwise hehad her there in front of him--his Theodora, his gift of the gods, hisPsyche, his soul. And wherever he should wander--if in wildest Africa orfurthest India, in Alaska or Tibet--this little fragment of white marbleshould bear him company.
It calmed him to look at it--the beautiful Greek thing.
And he sat down and wrote to his loved one his good-bye.
What Could He Say to Her.]
He told her of his sorrow and his love, and how he was going awayfrom England, he did not yet know where, and should be absent manymonths, and how forever his thoughts from distant lands would bridge thespace between them, and surround her with tenderness and worship.
And her letter, he said, should never leave him--her two letters; theyshould be dearer to him than his life. He prayed her to take care ofherself, and if at any time she should want him to send for him from theends of the earth. Bracondale would always find him, sooner or later,and he was hers to order as she willed.
And as he had ended his letter before, so he ended this one now:
"For ever and ever your devoted "LOVER."
After this he sat a long time and gazed out upon the night. It was verydark and cloudy, but in one space above his head two stars shone forthfor a moment in a clear peep of sky, and they seemed to send him amessage of hope. What hope? Was it, as she had said, the thought thatthere would be a returning spring--even for them?