Ruby M. Ayres

“ She would not further alienate Chris by scenes and tears.
If he did not care for her she would not let him think that it worried her. Surely, if she were brave and turned a smiling face to a world that had suddenly grown so empty something good would come out of it all. Some small reward would creep out of the blackness that enveloped her.
Though she knew it was unjust in her heart she laid all the trouble at Dakers' door—"Feathers," as Chris and young Atkins called him. She thought of his ugly, kindly face as she lay there in the darkness, and silently hated him. ”

“ The light in the center of the room fell full on his ugly face, cruelly revealing all its grimness and pallor, and the trembling tenderness of his mouth. He made no attempt to ignore her meaning. It was too great a moment for pretense.
She was so small, such a child, that his passionate love died down into something infinitely gentle as he spoke.
"Do you know what it means, Marie? Do you realize that you will break Miss Chester's heart, and ruin your husband's life? Do you know what everyone will say of you and me?" ”

“ He tried to show her the tragic impossibility of it all—the hopelessness. He spoke to her of the past, of the days when she and Chris has been children together; he pleaded for his friend as eloquently as he might have pleaded for himself, and at last he stopped, struck to the heart by her silence.
She drew her hand away.
"You mean . . . all this means . . . that you don't love me."
Feathers bit his lip till the blood came. Not love her! When every drop of blood in his body was on fire with love for her; when he was holding himself in with a grip of iron from taking her into his arms. ”

“ Here was a man who disliked all women even as Chris did, and yet he had found it possible to be kind to her, to befriend her in her loneliness and perplexity. She felt that she could not be sufficiently grateful to him.
Feathers did not speak till they had left the main stream and slipped into the wonderful backwater that lies between Wargrave and Henley. Marie had never seen anything like it in her life. She held her breath in sheer delight as she lay back amongst the cushions and looked up at the canopy of leaves overhead. ”

“ He would walk away with a smile on his lips, and nobody would ever know what he suffered.
If she tried to break down his strength she was not worthy of his love, and suddenly Marie Celeste hid her face in her hands and broke into bitter crying, which yet brought tears of healing to her heart. She would be worthy of him—she would not be a coward, snatching greedily at the one hope of happiness offered to her; she would go on, trying to be brave, trying to make the best of things. ”

“ He went off hurriedly, and Chris put his head down on his arms and cried like a child.
He blamed himself mercilessly, and forgave his friend everything, if indeed there had ever been anything to forgive. He felt that he had grown into an old man during those hours of agony last night when he waited outside the closed door of his wife's room.
She was living, but she cared nothing for him, and he could almost find it in his heart to envy Feathers who, although he was dead, had once known the happiness of her love. ”

“ He looked away from her out of the window where a radiant sunset was spreading rays of gorgeous coloring across the sea.
"Chris is the sort of man who likes a woman to be sporting," he said, after a moment, speaking rather carefully, as if choosing his words. "I mean to say that he is a man who would like his wife to be able to join him in his own sports! Do you understand?"
"Yes." Her eyes were fixed anxiously on his averted face, and then she asked suddenly: "And do you ever think I could be that sort of wife, Mr. Dakers?"
Feathers cleared his throat loudly. ”

“ Poor little Marie Celeste! The tears swam traitorously into her eyes, and she bit her lip.
"There isn't anything to forgive," she said. "I think, perhaps, we have both rather exaggerated things."
They walked along the sea front together, Chris silent and morose, with a little frown between his eyes.
Only once before had Marie made him feel ashamed, and that was years and years ago when he had pushed her out of the loft, and she had taken the blame and declared that she had fallen through her own carelessness. ”

“ She smoothed Marie's hands with her soft fingers.
"You have money—much money," she said "But your friends are few. You are shy, and you do not make friends easily . . . There has been one great moment of danger in your life—I cannot tell you what it was, but I can see the sea in your hand—and again in the future I can see much water . . . It will come again in your life, and it carries on its bosom trouble and many tears, and . . ." She looked again into Marie's face. ”

“ Home! He echoed the word in his heart wretchedly. What a home for a man to go to when he might have everything in the world he wanted, and a wife to smile at him from the other side of his own table! He missed Marie a hundred times a day—her step about the house—her voice—even the sight of her slippers and small personal belongings.
He took off his coat and hat in the hall, and went upstairs. There was a light in his room, and he could catch a glimpse of the table laid for dinner, and flowers . ”

“ Were there two ways of loving, she was asking herself desperately? and was it possible to love two men at the same time, or had she indeed ceased to love Chris?
Feathers had given her her first man's kiss of passion. In his arms she had first known complete happiness, and it seemed a crude impossibility that she would never hear his voice again, that his eyes would never open any more to look at her with their faithful adoration.
And it came home to her with bitter truth as she stood there, that 295 in her selfishness, and self absorption, she must have caused him great suffering. ”

“ I swear I've never given a thought to any woman but you. If I've treated you badly, there's no woman in the world I've treated better. I know it's a rotten argument, but . . ."
He stopped, choked by a sudden emotion, for Marie had broken down into bitter crying.
Chris drew her down to his shoulder and kissed her hair. It felt very soft against his lips. He was sure he had conquered, as he thought her tears were tenderness for the past and joy for the future. He did not understand that they were only tears of sorrow for the dream that had gone so sadly awry. ”

“ Chris shook his hand off impatiently.
"But when? How? You can't take away hatred with words." he said. "And she meant what she said . . . She's never looked at me like that in her life before . . ."
Feathers walked over to the window and looked out into the darkness. The stars seemed to be watching him with sympathetic eyes—the stars that were as far removed from him as was the woman he loved. ”

“ Miss Chester knitted a row without speaking, then she said gently:
"Dear child, do you think Chris would be quite pleased if he knew you were running about London with his friends like this?"
Marie swung round as if she had been struck.
"What do you mean. Aunt Madge?" Her voice was defiant, but the old lady went on insistently without raising her eyes:
"I know things have progressed since I was a girl, but if I were a man I should not care for my wife to have men friends, as you seem to have."
"Chris does not care," said Marie, and she laughed. ”

“ Chris went past her and into the room where Marie lay.
She was fast asleep, her hair spread out over the pillow like a dark wing, and Chris went down on his knees beside her and hid his face. She had nobody now in the world but him—Miss Chester had gone, and Feathers. . . Oh, he would make it up to her! He would spend his whole life trying to make up to her all she had suffered. ”

“ Feathers came back to her, knelt down beside her, and took both her hands in his. The pallor had not left his face, but it was wonderful in its tenderness and his voice was infinitely gentle when he spoke.
"Chris came to my rooms last night—after . . . after you had gone." She looked up with terrified eyes.
"Chris!"
"Yes." Feathers drew a hard breath. "Marie, you know that . . . that he loves you, too?"
"Loves me!" she laughed harshly. "When he married me for my money— when he left me alone all those weeks! If it hadn't been for you . . ." She pushed his arm away and rose to her feet. ”

“ Feathers turned his white face.
"Why didn't you tell her the truth?" he asked with difficulty. "No good ever comes of lying and subterfuge and deceit . . ." He laughed grimly at his own words! He was a fine one to get up in the pulpit and preach when in another twenty-four hours he would have broken every code of honor and friendship.
It was trembling on his lips to tell Chris the whole truth, to keep back nothing from that first moment in the hotel lounge, when his too-ready tongue had started all the mischief. ”

“ Miss Chester spoke of it once to Marie.
"My dear, don't you think you should be looking about for a house of your own? I love you to be with me, but I am sure that Chris must want his own home—it's only natural."
"I think Chris is quite happy, Aunt Madge," Marie answered, in the too quiet voice in which she always spoke to Miss Chester.
"Quite happy! But what about you?" the old lady asked indignantly. "Every wife wants her own home; it's only natural, and there's plenty of money for you to have a delightful home." ”

“ She went off through the sunshine with young Atkins chattering nineteen to the dozen beside her.
It was a perfect morning! Marie stood for a moment on the steps of the bathing machine in her blue and white costume, and looked up at the sun! It might be such a perfect world if only things were a little different! She wondered if there was always something in life to prevent people being too happy. ”

“ She had found it already, sooner even than Dorothy had dreamed.
She looked down at her hand with its new wedding ring, and a little blush rose to her pale cheeks.
"He's mine, at any rate," she told herself fiercely. "Even if he doesn't love me, he is my husband, and nobody else can have him."
It was some sort of comfort to know that the adored Chris was hers. The knowledge sent some streak of sunshine across the blackness of last night. ”