I. A. R. Wylie

“ They knew neither death, nor failure, nor the emptiness of success. If they starved or suffered, still life lay before them—a shimmering pathway stretching into eternity. People held out their arms in pity to them. They wept over their childish griefs. And when the children grew up and knew disillusionment and loss, the doors were closed against them, and they went out into the loneliness of their own hearts. She had cried out to God for a child so that at least she might have some one on whom she might lavish the genius of her motherliness. ”

“ Insensibly “Andy” had become Andrew. And she had become Andrew Margrave's wife.
The people were cheering. They were enormously pleased that Andrew Margrave should have chosen to come down among them. Their jaded and disillusioned imaginations, surfeited with national saviors who had proved themselves personal boosters, fastened eagerly on a man who had succeeded without shame or reproach in becoming richer than any of them. He had been wise and far-seeing for himself, but he had been wise and far-seeing for the whole community as well. They grudged him nothing. ”

“ Cleverer than I am. There must be some way. I don't mind what happens to me. I'm nobody. I've no life that matters to any one. I would do anything—anything—”
“But what have I to do with all this—?”
Jane Margrave swayed a little, like a short, stumpy tree in a bitter wind, “My dear—you're going away with him.” ”

“ You're different, Andrew. You've had everything—taken everything. I've had nothing.”
“Haven't I shared? Hasn't my success meant yours?”
“No—no—” She beat her hands together. “People can't share—not things like that. One has to do one's own work, One has to make one's own life. Hanging on other people—on their money—on their interests—their success—it's no use. It's all empty—empty. One has to succeed oneself—in one's own way. ”

“ She had tried to fight them off, but just now, when she had spoken aloud of that dream-Andy, one of them had been too strong for her. If Andrew had really heard, he would have thought she was going mad.
She mustn't go mad. She must be quiet and reasonable. She must give up brooding and agonizing over things that were over and lost for ever. If this dark, silent room became too much for her, she would go down again and tell Andrew—pour out her heart to him. ”

“ Jane Margrave pleaded. “Can't you trust me? It's very hard—to come like this. Can't you understand that? I'm trying to do the best I can?”
Lady Flavia glanced down at the gloved, tightly-clenched hands and answered patiently. “You and I are at cross-purposes, Mrs. Margrave. If anything has happened to your husband, I should be frightfully unhappy—like every one who knows and loves him. ”

“ You can do no good. He won't listen. He will only hate you—hate you—”
But she held on doggedly. The road grew rougher and petered out into a sheep-track that climbed steeply alongside the dark shining water. Liquid silver fell through the moonlight, and furtive life slid rustling in and out of the heather. Mrs. Margrave's breath came sharp and hard. She did not know why she kept on. If she had met Andrew now, she would only have stared at him, exhausted, tongue-tied, and ashamed. ”

“ She was thinking of Lady Flavia and his love for her, and he did not challenge the significance of her voice.
“Of course. Don't forget there are real people.”
“Andy is the only real person left.”
“Have I been such a failure, Jane?”
“You've been a great success, Andrew. I don't grudge it you. I'm glad you're happy. You're a strong, clever man. And I'm weak and stupid. ”

“ The gilt French chairs were strewn with a fantastic prettiness It was like a stage boudoir. And Jane Margrave stood in the midst like the intruder she had become in life. But now she was not shamed by her intrusion. She stood deliberately, She asked no quarter of her surroundings. She was an alien who had done with pitiful attempts at conciliation and was going back to her own people.
NOR did Lady Flavia, hovering for an instant on the threshold, considering her with a faintly quizzical surprise, shake her from her new self-confidence. She knew that she was at a disadvantage. ”

“ He carried her bag for her, leaving the station to its own devices.
“There's only one place where a body can stay here,” he said. 'Not many visitors come this way. Just a fisherman now and again and a pair of sweethearts maybe.”
He laughed to himself, and Mrs. Margrave plodded at his side along the white, mysterious road. She thought wearily that she and Andrew had been sweethearts once. But that was a long time ago. He had gone on and left her.
The little inn tucked itself snugly between the low, gray-stone cottages. Jane Margrave was very tired, and the warm lights made her long for rest. ”

“ His energy, his passion for ideals and things rather than for human relationships, made him seem stranger than an unknown man to her. Her tiredness was awful. The thought that she might have thirty years to live bore her down like a suffocating wave. ”

“ They were very sorry for Andrew Margrave.
“He was just a bank clerk,” one of them said. “I suppose it seemed right enough at the time.”
“But he must have known. Even the people. who knew him then knew that he would come to something.”
“Tn a way I like an early marriage. But an ambitious man ought to wait until he finds his level.”
“And then their having no children—”
“That must be the hardest. Building all that for nobody.”
Jane Margrave closed her eyes for a moment. The secret charm of her small, thin face was quenched like a little flame by a gust of wind. She looked old and wan. ”

“ Everybody's for Andrew Margrave.”
“You've helped him so much, Lady Flavia. He told me you had worked harder than any one.”
“Did he? I'm so glad. I did all I could. It's one's duty to get the best men for the country, isn't it?” ”

“ Andrew has left me. I wouldn't be sure of it if—if he hadn't been leaving me for a long, long time. He is going to do something that will ruin his whole career. It mustn't happen. His career is everything to him. In the end it would break his heart. You're very young, Lady Flavia, and men are different, I suppose. ”