XVI
BROWN'S NEW WORLD
So the house was reached--it was a dark and stern-looking little abodeat this hour, with its windows unlighted, though usually the cheeriest onthe square. Brown threw open the door and Bim sprang to meet him--turningaside, however, at sight of the strangers. Only a few embers glowed onthe hearth, and the room was in darkness.
Brown closed the door behind them all. "Stand still, please," he said,"while I light up."
He threw some kindlings from a basket upon the fire, and they leaped intoflame before he could light the lamp on his table. The room became apleasant place at once, as any room must in fire- and lamp-light, so thatit contain such few essentials of living as did Brown's--thered-cushioned chair by the hearth, the books and magazines upon thetable, the two fine portraits on the wall.
"Now, please make yourselves comfortable," Brown urged, indicating theaustere little bedroom his friends remembered. "And if you'll do thatI'll go at the joyous task of getting you some supper."
"You must let us help you," Mrs. Brainard offered.
"Never! What could you do, either of you, in a bachelor's kitchen?"
"But we want to see the bachelor at work there."
"Your presence might upset me," he called back, laughing, as hehurried away.
Two minutes later, after an inspection of his larder, he was rushing upthe street to the corner grocery, having escaped by way of the backdoor. If any of his friends of this quarter had happened to meet himunder one of the scanty street lamps, they might have noted that thedark face, in these days usually so sober, to-night was alight witheagerness. Donald Brown's eyes were glowing, there was a touch of clear,excited colour on his cheek. His lips were all but smiling as he strodealong. One hand was already in his pocket, feeling critically of theprobable contents of the purse he longed to empty, to make a littlefeast for his so-welcome guests.
Arrived at Jim Burke's small store, the customer scanned the placeanxiously, and it seemed to him that its supplies had never been someagre. He succeeded in buying his lettuce, however, and a bottle ofsalad oil, and, remembering a can of asparagus tips on his own shelves,congratulated himself upon the attainment of his salad. Some eggs whichthe grocer swore were above reproach, and some small bakery cakes,completed the possibilities of the place for quick consumption. Brown ranback to the house again, his arms full of parcels, his mind strugglingwith the incredible fact that under his roof was housed, if only for anhour or two, the one being whom he would give all but his soul to keep.
Entering his kitchen by its outer door he stopped short upon thethreshold. A figure in a white blouse, blue serge skirt, and littlewhite, beruffled apron, was arranging his table. The table had beendrawn into the middle of the room, his simple supplies of linen andsilver had been discovered, and the preparations were nearly complete.In the middle of the table in a glass bowl was a huge bunch of violets,come from he could not have guessed where, even if he had given anythought to the attempt.
But he gave no thought to anything but the figure before him. If HelenaForrest, in the silks and laces of her usual evening attire, had beenalways one of extraordinary charm, in her present dress and setting shewas infinitely more enchanting to the man who stood regarding her withhis heart leaping into his throat. The whole picture she presented wasone of such engaging domesticity that no bachelor who had suffered theloneliness this one had known so many months could fail to appreciateit. He dropped his parcels and came forward. Mrs. Brainard was notin the room, and the door was closed between the kitchen and theliving-room--by accident, or intention? The pulses in his temples weresuddenly beating hard.
Helena did not turn. She stood by the table, trifling with some littledetail of spoon or napkin, and her down-bent profile was presented toBrown's gaze. As he stared at it a sudden vivid wave of colour swept overher cheek, such an evidence of inner feeling as he had seldom observed inher before, who usually had herself so well in hand.
He came close and stood looking down at that rich-hued cheek, the softwaves of her dusky hair drooping toward it.
"What does this mean?" he said, unsteadily and very low. "This can't bejust to make me go mad with longing. For that's what I shall do if Ilook long at you like this, here in my home--_you_ looking as if--asif--you belonged here!"
He saw her hand tremble as it touched the violets in the bowl, arrangingthem. It was a very beautiful hand, as he well knew, and he saw withfresh wonder that there were no rings upon it, where rare and costly oneswere wont to be.
There was silence for an instant before her reply. Then she turned andlooked up, full into his face.
"May I belong here?" she said, very gently.
"Do you want to?"
"Yes."
"You are willing to leave it all--for me?"
"Yes."
"Ought I to let you?" His questions had been rapid, breathless, hiseyes were searching hers deeply. He was very near, but he had not put outa hand to touch her. Yet no woman, seeing him as he stood there, couldfeel herself the one who wooed, even though she led him on.
She looked away for an instant, while her lips broke into a littlesmile of wonder at his control of himself. No need to tell her how shedrew him--she knew it with every fibre of her. Then she let him haveher eyes again.
"Do you think you can help letting me?" she said, and lifted her facewith that adorable, irresistible movement which tells its own story ofits own desire.
"No!" His voice shook. "Thank God, I don't have to try any longer."
It was no passive creature he took then into his eager arms, it was onewho raised her own with the rush of self-abandonment which made his joycomplete. Long as he had loved her he had not dreamed of her as evergiving herself to any lover so splendidly. If he had dreamed--he realizedwith a strange feeling at the heart--he could never have withstood....
It was to be hoped that Mrs. Brainard, in the other room, had found abook upon the table which interested her or, hungry for food as she hadprofessed herself to be, she must inevitably have found the time passslowly before she was summoned to her promised supper.
Out in the old, dark, oak-walled kitchen, Brown was still puttingquestions. He had placed his lady in a chair, and he sat on a littleold-fashioned "cricket" before her, one that he had found in the housewhen he came and had carefully preserved for its oddity. It brought himjust where he could look up into her eyes. One of her hands was in bothhis; he lifted it now and then to his lips as he talked. The packages ofeggs and lettuce and bakery cakes stood untouched and forgotten on thetable. If Helena remembered to be hungry, it was not worth the spoilingof this hour to demand to be fed.
"Can I possibly make you comfortable here?" was one of his questions.
"Don't you think I look as if I might help you make us bothcomfortable?" was her answer.
Brown looked at the plain little white blouse, at the simple blue sergeskirt, then on down to the foot which showed below the hem of the skirt.
"Is this the sort of shoe that working-women wear?" he inquiredskeptically.
Helena laughed. "Neither Mrs. Brainard nor I could bring ourselves tothat," she owned. "And since you and I are only to play at being poor--"
"We can afford to keep you in fine shoe feather? Yes, I think we can. Butyou are going to miss a world of things you are used to, my queen--andnot only a world of things--the world itself."
"I know. But--I tried living in my world without you--and I failed."
He made an inarticulate exclamation, expressive of great joy, andfollowed it with the age-old demand: "Tell me when you became willing tocome to mine."
"The night you were in town."
"What? Not at Atchison's dinner?"
"Yes. I would have come with you then. I would have come with you fromthe singing of that song."
"But you--you let me think you wanted me to come back!"
"I am only human. I wanted you to come back. But--I wanted you to refuseto come! If you hadn't refused--"
"Yes--"
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"You wouldn't have towered as high for me as you do now. I might haveloved you, but--perhaps--I shouldn't have--adored you!"
The last words came in a whisper, and again the wonderful colour poureditself over her face. Brown, at the sight, bent his head upon her hand,and she put her other hand upon his heavy hair and gently caressed it.When he lifted his head his eyes were wet.
"Oh, but I don't deserve that," he murmured brokenly, and put up his armsand drew her down to him. Soon he spoke with solemnity.
"Darling, you are not making this great sacrifice wholly for me?You love--the One I try to serve? You will be glad to serve Him,too, with me?"
"Yes, Donald. But I love Him, I think, through you. I hope to reach yourheights some day, but you will have to lead me there."
They remembered Mrs. Brainard at last, and they remembered that Helena,also, had had nothing at all to eat since the hour for afternoon tea.Brown flung open the door into his living-room, his face aglow, and stoodlaughing at the sight of Mrs. Brainard's posture in his redrocking-chair. As if exhausted by the tortures of fatigue and starvationshe lay back in an attitude of utter abandonment to her fate, and onlythe gleam of her eyes and the smile on her lips belied the dejection ofher pose. "It's a shame!" he cried, coming to her side. "Or would beif--you hadn't aided and abetted it all."
"Are you happy, Donald dear?" asked the lady, sitting up and reaching upboth hands to him. "Ah, yes; I only need to look at you!"
"So happy I don't know what I'm doing, you kind, wise friend."
"Wise? I wonder if I am. What will they all say to me, I wonder, whenthey know the part I've played? Never mind! Is Helena happy, too? I hopeso, for the poor girl has been through the depths, bless her!"
"Come and see!" And with his arm about her, Donald led her out intothe kitchen.
Helena came forward. "Dearest lady, will you stay and have supper withus?" said she with quite the air of the proud young housewife, and Brownlaughed in his delight.
"Had I better stay?" inquired Mrs. Brainard, laughing with the man at herside, while both regarded the figure before them with eyes which missedno note in the appeal of her presence in that place.
"Oh, yes, indeed. We've plenty and to spare. Donald paid a visit to thecorner grocery not long ago, and we've new-laid eggs, and radishes andall. Do stay!"
"I think I will." And Mrs. Brainard took the radiant face between hersoft, white, ringless hands and kissed it as a mother might.
In no time at all the hour had come for the visitors to go to theirtrain. In spite of their protests Brown would have a cab come for them,though it took him some minutes to get one in a quarter of the city wheresuch luxury was rare.
"Time enough for self-denial," said he as he took his place facing them."Let me play I'm a man of affluence again--just for to-night."
"I'm afraid, Don, you'll always be tempted to call cabs for your wife,"Mrs. Brainard said, and suppressed a bit of a sigh; for, after all, sheknew what the future must cost them both, and she herself would miss themsadly from her world.
But it was Helena who silenced her. "When he walks, I'll walk," said she."Haven't I been in training for a year--even though I didn't know why Iwas training?"
"I think we've both been in training for the year," said Brown."Even though we didn't know--God knew--and when He trains--then theend is sure!"
When he had put them in their car, and had taken leave of them with alook which he found it hard to tear away, plain and unpretentioustravellers though they were that night, he went striding back throughthe April midnight to the little old house the Englishman had builtso long ago.
As he let himself in, Bim came tearing to meet him. The firelight wasstill bright upon the hearth, and Brown sat down before it, leaningforward to look into the glowing coals with eyes which saw there splendidthings. The dog came close and laid his head on Brown's knee and receivedthe absent-minded but friendly caress he longed for. Also, with the needfor speech, Bim's master told him something of what he was thinking.
"The look of her, Bim, boy, in those simple clothes--why, she was neverhalf so beautiful in the most costly things she ever wore. And she'smine--mine! She's coming here--next month, Bim, to be my wife! Can youbelieve it? I can't--not more than half. And yet, when Iremember--remember--
"And it seemed hard to me, Bim--all this year--my life here. I thought Iwas an exile--I, with this coming to me! _O God--but You are good tome--good_! How I will work--how we will work--_we_--"
He got up, presently, and as he stood on the hearth-rug, about to leaveit for his bed, a whimsical, wonderful thought struck him.
"I'll never have to borrow little Norah Kelcey any more, for the want ofsomething to get my arms about. Instead--some day--perhaps--_O God, butYou are good_!"
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