Henry St. John Cooper

“ Now you will be a good brave girl, you know dear that you must go because it will be kinder to—to him—to me and to yourself. You are going to someone whom I love very much and who will be kind to you, not only because I have asked him to be and for your own sake too, but because he is kindness itself. You know, Betty, that you must go, don't you? You know, child, that it is not possible that you could stay on here, and—and Betty, you are going somewhere where you will never see Abram Lestwick, you will be safe from him. ”

“ You are only a child, Betty, and—and I—I know what a child's love means, it is seldom the real love—it will pass, for such love does pass, I know, Betty! And then—then one day the real love, the love of all your life will come to you and you will look back on these memories and smile at them and when that day comes, Betty——" Kathleen's voice shook a little, "then—then, child, go down on your knees and thank God that you gave your child's love to a good and noble man, a man who respected it—and you—and—and was afraid—dear!" ”

“ And that will be never. It is your pride, dear, your pride that ever fights against your happiness and mine; but I shall beat it down and humble it, Joan, and win you in the end. Your own true, sweet self.”
“I don’t think I have any pride left,” she said. “I was prouder when I was poor than I am now. My pride was then all I had; it kept me above the sordid life about me. I cultivated it, I was glad of it, but since then—Oh, Hugh, I am not proud any more, only very humble, and very unhappy.” ”

“ No, no, you're a good lad. Few sons please their old fathers as you do me—we're not quarrelling, Allan lad!"
"We never have yet, father, and we never will, I think!"
"I know!" said Sir Josiah. "Ah, Allan, you're doing well, a fine woman, beautiful as a picture, tall and stately, and the daughter of an Earl. Why, boy, you ought to be in the Seventh Heaven of delight and instead you sit there with your nose in a book!"
"She is a fine and a beautiful and I believe a good woman," said Allan, "but her father—" he paused. "I could have wished her a better father!"
"An Earl, an Earl!" ”

“ There is nothing in me for such a girl as you to love.”
“There is much in you for any woman to love. There is honesty and truth and bravery, and a clean sweet mind. I know all that, I know that you are a good man, Johnny. I know that; but oh, I do not love you!”
“I know,” he said sadly. “I know that.” And his hand seemed to slip away from hers.
“And you would not—not take me—Johnny, without love?” she asked, and her voice trembled.
“Joan, I—I don’t understand. I am a foolish, dense fellow, dear, and I don’t understand!” ”

“ He had done all that a man might do, and he had been repulsed. No wonder that Betty, poor little Betty, felt horror and loathing for the man.
"Is he sane, is he normal?" Allan questioned himself. "There is something—about him—" he shuddered. "I can't understand it, I never loathed a human being in my life, as I loathe that man, but Betty——"
What could he do about Betty, how unravel the tangle, how straighten out that very winding path of the child's life? She loved him, had she not said it a hundred times with tears and with pleading? Yet was it the real love? The one passion of a life-time? ”

“ Joan Meredyth,” she paused a little, with a catch of the breath, “Joan Meredyth could not be other than honest and true and—and straight, Johnny. It would not be her nature to be anything else.”
“Why do you come here? Why do you come to tell me this, Gipsy?” He had risen, he stood looking at her—such a little thing, so graceful, so lovely with the colour in her cheeks, the light in her eyes, the light of her fine generosity. “Gipsy—” He became silent; looking at her, strange thoughts came—wild, impossible thoughts, thoughts that come when dreams end and one is face to face with reality. ”

“ He had said it was a dream, it must have been a dream—this girl was no dream, but living reality. And then Allan had told her that the girl of his dream had been dressed all in some strange, old world costume, how the garden about her had been in bloom and all so trim and neat and tidy, how the old house, a place of desolation, had been bright and gay with its open windows and blowing curtains, and how the girl herself had gone to him and had kissed him and had put her little mittened hands—mittened hands—had little Betty Hanson ever owned a pair of mittens in her life? ”

“ He is a man who could not live without love. It is part of his life. He might think, might believe that he would be content to take you because you are lovely and—and good and clever, and all those things that I am not, even though you do not love him, but the time would come when his heart would ache for the love you withheld. Oh, Joan—Joan, forgive me—forgive me, but I must speak. I think you would if you were in my place!”
The cold bitterness was passing slowly from Joan’s face. There came a tinge of colour into her cheeks; her eyes that watched the girl grew softer and more tender. ”

“ And so she sat here by her window and watched the figures of the two men, both dear to her, but one grown suddenly so wonderfully, so inexpressibly dear that the strength and depth of her love almost made her afraid.
In spite of the smile he had given Kathleen a while ago, there was this morning a cloud on Allan's brow, a weight of care on his heart. He was worried and anxious, he wanted to do what was right, he wanted to act justly and honourably, and he knew that he was afraid—afraid for himself, afraid of a man's weakness, afraid of temptation that he would willingly flee if he could. ”

“ Helen Everard was amazed. “My dear Connie, why talk such nonsense? This marriage between Joan and Johnny is the best, the very best possible thing in the world for him. Joan is—”
“I know all she is, Helen,” said Connie; “no one knows better than I do. I know she is lovely; she is good, she is rich, and she is cold—cold to Johnny. She doesn’t love him; and I love him, Helen, and I hate to think that Johnny should give his life to a woman who does not care for him!” ”

“ She was still a little pale, still a little languid in her movements. But in her eyes there was a great and wonderful happiness and a deep tenderness and unutterable love. Love for this man beside her, this man to whom she clung, this man, who was friend, lover, husband all in one. Was ever woman so blessed as she?
Sir Josiah stood watching them, knowing that these two had found a happiness that was almost beyond his understanding.
And then he would have turned and gone quietly away, but Kathleen called to him.
"Won't you come here and sit with us in the sunshine dear? Don't go, don't go!" ”

“ If it were not true what Lady Linden said, why did she say it? If it is true, then—then why—what is the cause of the quarrel between them? Will they make it up? He does not look like a man who could treat a woman badly. Oh dear!” Helen sighed, for she had her own plans. Like every good woman, she was a born matchmaker at heart. She had a deep and sincere affection for John Everard. She had decided long ago that she must find Johnny a good wife, and here had been the very thing, only there was this Mr. Hugh Alston. ”

“ Sir Josiah looked at him. "God bless my soul!" he said, and if ever there were mystification on a man's face, it was on his.
"Father, do you believe that the soul can outlast and outlive not one earthly body, but many, ten, a hundred, a thousand, that when the body perishes as all things earthly must perish, the soul can and does find another dwelling place? Ah! I don't make myself clear." He broke off, seeing the mystification deepen in the old man's face. "I am afraid I never can. Think this out, father, a man dies, the body perishes, but the soul, the ego, the spirit lives on. ”

“ I came to you, thinking in my small soul that I was doing a fine thing, offering atonement—my—my very words, atonement—for the evil I had unwittingly done. And you refused to accept the prize!” He laughed bitterly. “You refused with scorn, just scorn, Joan. You made me realise that I had but added to my offence. I—I to offer you marriage, in my lordly way, when I should have sued on my knees to you for forgiveness, as I would sue now, humbly and contritely, offering love and love alone—love and worship and service to the end of my days, as please Heaven I shall sue, Joan.” ”

“ I shall behold my dear daughter, mistress of a good house, dispensing her and her husband's hospitality with the gracious courtesy that is the birthright only of a woman of breeding. Give my kindly remembrance to your husband and believe me, my dear Kathleen, ever your fond and devoted Father, Gowerhurst.
"P.S. I am taking the liberty of bringing an old friend down with me. I know in such a mansion as Homewood, there are many rooms, may I hope that I am not encroaching in asking that one may be reserved for one for whom you once had a kindly feeling." ”

“ And there on that same seat sat a small, dark-eyed maiden, whose rusty bicycle reclined against the railings. She had been here yesterday for fifteen minutes or so. He and she had occupied the seat without the exchange of a word, according to English custom.
Hugh looked at her. Because he regarded one woman as the embodiment of all that was perfect and graceful and beautiful, it did not blind him to beauty in others. He saw in this girl what those blinder than he had not yet recognised—the dawning of a wonderful, a radiant and glowing beauty. ”

“ THE GOING OF BETTY
"I want, dear Sir Josiah, to feel that the child is happy and well cared for, her life here has not been a very happy one, her grandmother was trying to force her into marriage with a man she hated, a man I myself feel instinctive mistrust of. I send her to you because I know of no one so kind, so good, so generous. I know that you will do all you can for her. I do not wish her, and I do not think she herself wishes ever to come back to Homewood again. ”

“ Would not that be better than a long hopeless fight against lovelessness, even—even if you loved her a little less than you believe you love—me? Remember that it would rest with you and not with another, you who are generous, who could not refuse to give when so much is given to you.” Joan’s voice faltered for a moment. “It would be your own heart on which you would have to make the call, Johnny, not on the heart of another. You would have more command over your own heart than you ever could over the heart of another.” ”

“ He had rather dreaded the honeymoon, and now had come to realise that it formed the most pleasant period of his life. But now that it had come to its end, he felt a strange reluctance to go to Homewood.
He was young and healthy minded; for such a man to brood over a dream or a vision was impossible. The effect of that May day dream of his had well nigh worn away, the vision of the girl who had come to him in the old garden and kissed him had grown vague and shadowy. ”

“ The chill of her cold pride fell on Joan. Send for him! Never! never! He had gone when he might have stayed—when, had he been here now, she would have told him that she was free.
Very slowly she walked back to the house, to meet Helen’s questioning eyes.
“I am glad, dear, that there seems to be a better understanding between you and Johnny,” Helen said.
“There is a perfect understanding between us. Johnny is not going to marry me. He is choosing someone who will love him more and understand him better than I could.” ”

“ Was he not well enough content with life as it was? He was married to a girl for whom he felt a great liking, a growing affection, and a respect, a woman whom he realised was the sweetest and best woman he had ever known.
It was not her beauty alone that attracted him, yet he could scarcely repress a thrill of pride of possession that comes to many men when they realise the envy of others and see the looks of admiration which were no more than Kathleen's well deserved tribute.
So the honeymoon had been a very pleasant and happy time. They were frank with one another, the best of friends. ”

“ Yes, she was fond of Johnny, and she had grown very fond of late of this girl. She looked under the somewhat cold surface, and she recognised a warm, a tender and a loving nature, that had been suppressed for lack of something on which to lavish that wealth of tenderness that she held stored up in her heart.
Quite what part Hugh Alston had played in the life of Joan, Helen did not know. But she hoped for Johnny. She wanted to see these two come together. She was not above worldly considerations, for few good women are. ”

“ A thousand things, a million things, and yet all were summed up in three words, "I love you."
He had given her everything, a man's love, a man's constancy. His heart had not beaten one throb the faster for any woman but her. His eyes had found no pleasure in looking on any other woman's face. Could man give more than he had given? What could he ask in return? Everything—and he knew that he must ask everything of her.
Kathleen was conscious of a trepidation, of a nervousness unusual to her. ”

“ Take her about; let her see people, young people. Make her enjoy herself, and forget the past. I don’t know what the past held. Joan is not one to make confidants; but I fancy that her past, poor child, has held more suffering than she cares to talk about. So try and make her forget it. Get the Everards over from Buddesby, or take her there; let her see people. But you know, you know, my dear. You’re a capable woman!”
Yes, she was a capable woman, far more capable than even General Bartholomew realised. Clever and capable, kindly and generous of nature, and the girl interested her. ”

“ I have seen it—and you—always you—and yet my memory never did you justice Kathleen. To-day you are more beautiful, more sweetly gracious, more lovable——"
"Hush!" she said.
"Why should I be silent when silence would be but pretence? Ten years ago I loved you with all my heart and soul, for ten years my love has been constant, my dreams and my memories of you were sweeter to me than the living realty of other women—I cared nothing for them, my heart was all yours."
"Harold!" she said. "Harold!" She put her hand on his arm. "The past is dead and it must lie dead and—and forgotten——"
"Forgotten! ”

“ Why should Joan have been at Mrs. Bonner’s cottage at such an hour? Why should she have been there talking to the very man whom she had a week ago cut dead in the village? Why, if she had anything to say to him, whoever he was, had she not sent for him rather than seek him at his lodgings?
Questions that puzzled and worried Johnny Everard sorely, questions that he could not answer. Jealousy, doubt, and all the kindred feelings came overwhelmingly. Honest as the day, he never doubted a soul’s honesty. If he found out that a man whom he had trusted was a thief, it shocked him ”

“ She was listening to him with a smile on her lips. Now she glanced at him, at the tall, big young man by her side—her husband!
"Allan," she said suddenly, "Allan, you seem to be very happy!"
"Happy!" he was startled. "Of course I am happy. Why—why did you say that? I am happy and content. I Have the dearest and best man in the world for father. I have a wife who is friend and comrade——" he pressed her hand. "I have a home, the like of which there is not to be found in all England! Happy—why not, Kathleen?" ”

“ She turned to the door.
“Joan, wait,” he pleaded—“wait! One last word! One day I shall hope to explain to you, then perhaps you will find it in your heart to forgive. For the blunder that I made in Slotman’s office, for the further insult, if you look on it as such, I ask you to forgive me now. It was the act of a senseless fool, a mad fool, who had done wrong and tried to do right, and through his folly made matters worse. To-night perhaps I have sinned more than ever before in telling you that I love you. But if that is a sin and past all forgiveness, I glory in it. ”

“ If Allan Homewood, Esquire, should by chance meet his wife's maid or any other servant on the stairs, or in one of the innumerable passages of the old fashioned house, it was scarcely likely that he would give more than a passing glance and more than a passing thought to the domestic. If little Betty Hanson should happen suddenly on the master of the house at a turn in the passageway, what more becoming than she should drop her eyes demurely and go on her way? ”

“ In his eyes she must be perfection; she must be flawless, even her faults he will not recognise as faults, but as perfections that are perhaps a little beyond his understanding—that’s all right. Now in the case of Joan, I see in her nothing to admire beyond the loveliness of her face, the grace of her, the sweet voice of her and—oh, her whole personality! But I know her to be mean-spirited and uncharitable, unforgiving, ungenerous. I know her to be all these, and yet—”
“Lady Linden, sir, and Miss Marjorie Linden!” ”

“ And then, filled with wonder, filled with a strange sense of fear, she ran to the house and so back through the door which she bolted and barred after her, and up the steep stairs to her own little room and to sit on the bed with her hands clasped and her eyes staring into vacancy, a vacancy which yet seemed to hold many things, and one thing she saw very plainly, a man who was young, a man whom she knew instantly as he whom she had seen so often at his work in the old garden. ”

“ The perfection of the beloved object always makes an honest man painfully conscious of his own inferiority and unworthiness. And so it was with Johnny Everard, this day beside the green pool. And the slim, cool hand was not withdrawn.
“Johnny, what are you asking me? Why have you come here to me? What do you want—of me?” she asked, yet did not look him in the face, but sat with eyes resting on the placid water.
“Just to tell you that—to tell you how I love you, Joan.”
Another man had told her that; the echo of his words came back to her from the past. ”

“ There are no flowers in the garden now, for the garden of Homewood Manor and all the world beside lies under a pall of white, for the winter is here, the winter of seventeen hundred and five, which is remembered by all men as a winter of bitter cold, of great frosts and heavy snows.
In a tiny cottage that stands a bare quarter of a mile on the Stretton Road from the Homewood gates, a man is on his knees beside a bed. ”

“ But she saw it all in her quiet way, and was anxious and worried, as a kindly, gentle, tender-hearted woman must be when she notices one of her own sex give all the love of a passionate heart to one who neither realises nor desires it.
So, day after day, Johnny drove over to Starden, and when he came Helen would smile quietly and take herself off about some household duty, leaving the young people together. And Joan would greet him with a smile from which all coldness now had gone, for she accepted him as a friend. She saw his sterling worth, his honour and his honesty. ”

“ What was Kathleen thinking now? Had he surprised, even frightened her, was she hurt or angry, or could she understand and forgive that sudden wave of passion that had come to him? Love and passion for her—his own wife! His cheeks flushed a little, it seemed to him that all his little world was in strange and dire confusion.
Mrs. Hanson, standing at her own gate, tall, erect, and brown of face, beady of eyes, bobbed to him an exaggerated respectful curtsey. ”

“ He stared, open-eyed.
“How?”
“Your marriage!”
“With Joan. You mean that you are against her?”
“I am against any woman who would have you for a husband and give you none of her heart,” cried Connie.
“Why—why?” he stammered. “Con, you couldn’t expect that Joan would fall in love with a chap like me?”
“Then why is she going to marry you? Isn’t marriage a union of love and hearts? Oh, Johnny, I am anxious, very anxious. I hate it, this loveless marriage—”
“But I love her!” ”

“ The tall hollyhocks that cast wavering blue shadows on the white stone pathway nod to one another in the breeze, nod, it seems, knowingly, for from the pathway one may see into the pleasant room where the spinet and its fair player are and seeing these may also see the handsome figure of the Captain, who leans upon the spinet, the better to see into those bright eyes that have brought him home to England and Sussex from across the seas, though at this time in the service of his Grace the Captain General there is much to be done and much to be won. ”