CHAPTER XXXVI
THE REVELATION OF THE ROSARY
Simpson was crossing the hall just before half-past six o'clock. He
had left his master in the library. He heard a rustle just above
him; and, looking up, saw a tall figure descending the wide oak
staircase.
Simpson stood transfixed. The soft black evening-gown, with its
trailing folds, and old lace at the bosom, did not impress him so
much as the quiet look of certainty and power on the calm face above
them.
"Simpson," said Jane, "my aunt, the Duchess of Meldrum, and her
maid, and her footman, and a rather large quantity of luggage, will
be arriving from Aberdeen, at about half-past seven. Mrs. Graem
knows about preparing rooms; and I have given James orders for
meeting the train with the brougham, and the luggage-cart. The
duchess dislikes motors. When her Grace arrives, you can show her
into the library. We will dine in the dining-room at a quarter past
eight. Meanwhile, Mr. Dalmain and myself are particularly engaged
just now, and must not be disturbed on any account, until the
duchess's arrival. You quite understand?"
"Yes, miss-m'lady," stammered Simpson. He had been boot-boy in a
ducal household early in his career; and he considered duchesses'
nieces to be people before whom one should bow down.
Jane smiled. "'Miss' is quite sufficient, Simpson," she said; and
swept towards the library.
Garth heard her enter, and close the door; and his quick ear caught
the rustle of a train.
"Hullo, Miss Gray," he said. "Packed your uniform?"
"Yes," said Jane. "I told you I was packing."
She came slowly across the room, and stood on the hearth-rug looking
down at him. He was in full evening-dress; just as at Shenstone on
that memorable night; and, as he sat well back in his deep arm-
chair, one knee crossed over the other, she saw the crimson line of
his favourite silk socks.
Jane stood looking down upon him. Her hour had come at last. But
even now she must, for his sake, be careful and patient.
"I did not hear the song," she said.
"No," replied Garth. "At first, I forgot. And when I remembered, I
had been thinking of other things, and somehow--ah, Miss Gray! I
cannot sing to-night. My soul is dumb with longing."
"I know," said Jane, gently; "and I am going to sing to you."
A faint look of surprise crossed Garth's face. "Do you sing?" he
asked. "Then why have you not sung before?"
"When I arrived," said Jane, "Dr. Rob asked me whether I played. I
said: 'A little.' Thereupon he concluded I sang a little, too; and
he forbade me, most peremptorily, either to play a little; or sing a
little, to you. He said he did not want you driven altogether mad."
Garth burst out laughing.
"How like old Robbie," he said. "And, in spite of his injunctions,
are you going to take the risk, and 'sing a little,' to me, to-
night?"
"No," said Jane. "I take no risks. I am going to sing you one song.
Here is the purple cord, at your right hand. There is nothing
between you and the piano; and you are facing towards it. If you
want to stop me--you can come."
She walked to the instrument, and sat down.
Over the top of the grand piano, she could see him, leaning back in
his chair; a slightly amused smile playing about his lips. He was
evidently still enjoying the humour of Dr. Rob's prohibition.
The Rosary has but one opening chord. She struck it; her eyes upon
his face. She saw him sit up, instantly; a look of surprise,
expectation, bewilderment, gathering there.
Then she began to sing. The deep rich voice, low and vibrant, as the
softest tone of 'cello, thrilled into the startled silence.
"The hours I spent with thee, dear heart,
Are as a string of pearls to me;
I count them over, ev'ry one apart,
My rosary,--my rosary.
Each hour a pearl--"
Jane got no further.
Garth had risen. He spoke no word; but he was coming blindly over to
the piano. She turned on the music-stool, her arms held out to
receive him. Now he had found the woodwork. His hand crashed down
upon the bass. Now he had found her. He was on his knees, his arms
around her. Hers enveloped him--, yearning, tender, hungry with the
repressed longing of all those hard weeks.
He lifted his sightless face to hers, for one moment. "You?" he
said. "YOU? You--all the time?"
Then he hid his face in the soft lace at her breast.
"Oh, my boy, my darling!" said Jane, tenderly; holding the dear head
close. "Yes; I, all the time; all the time near him, in his loss and
pain. Could I have stopped away? But, oh, Garth! What it is, at last
to hold you, and touch you, and feel you here! . . . Yes, it is I.
Oh, my beloved, are you not quite sure? Who else could hold you
thus? . . . Take care, my darling! Come over to the couch, just
here; and sit beside me."
Garth rose, and raised her, without loosing her; and she guided
herself and him to a safer seat close by. But there again he flung
himself upon his knees, and held her; his arms around her waist; his
face hidden in the shelter of her bosom.
"Ah,--darling, darling," said Jane softly, and her hands stole up
behind his head, with a touch of unspeakable protective tenderness;
"it has been so sweet to wait upon my boy; and help him in his
darkness; and shield him from unnecessary pain; and be always there,
to meet his every need. But I could not come myself--until he knew;
and understood; and had forgiven--no, not 'forgiven'; understood,
and yet still LOVED. For he does now understand? And he does
forgive? . . . Oh, Garth! . . . Oh--hush, my darling! . . . You
frighten me! . . . No, I will never leave you; never, never! . . .
Oh, can't you understand, my beloved? . . . Then I must tell you
more plainly. Darling,--do be still, and listen. Just for a few days
we must be as we have been; only my boy will know it is I who am
near him. Aunt 'Gina is coming this evening. She will be here in
half an hour. Then, as soon as possible we will get a special
license; and we will be married, Garth; and then--" Jane paused; and
the man who knelt beside her, held his breath to listen--"and then,"
continued Jane in a low tender voice, which gathered in depth of
sacred mystery, yet did not falter--"then it will be my highest joy,
to be always with my husband, night and day."
A long sweet silence. The tempest of emotion in her arms was hushed
to rest. The eternal voice of perfect love had whispered: "Peace, be
still"; and there was a great calm.
At last Garth lifted his head. "Always? Always together?" he said.
"Ah, that will be 'perpetual light!'"
* * * * * * *
When Simpson, pale with importance, flung open the library door, and
announced: "Her Grace, the Duchess of Meldrum," Jane was seated at
the piano, playing soft dreamy chords; and a slim young man, in
evening dress, advanced with eager hospitality to greet his guest.
The duchess either did not see, or chose to ignore the guiding cord.
She took his outstretched hand warmly in both her own.
"Goodness gracious, my dear Dal! How you surprise me! I expected to
find you blind! And here you are striding about, just your old
handsome self!"
"Dear Duchess," said Garth, and stooping, kissed the kind old hands
still holding his; "I cannot see you, I am sorry to say; but I don't
feel very blind to-night. My darkness has been lightened by a joy
beyond expression."
"Oh ho! So that's the way the land lies! Now which are you going to
marry? The nurse,--who, I gather, is a most respectable young
person, and highly recommended; or that hussy, Jane; who, without
the smallest compunction, orders her poor aunt from one end of the
kingdom to the other, to suit her own convenience?"
Jane came over from the piano, and slipped her hand through her
lover's arm.
"Dear Aunt 'Gina," she said; "you know you loved coming; because you
enjoy a mystery, and like being a dear old 'deus ex machina,' at the
right moment. And he is going to marry them both; because they both
love him far too dearly ever to leave him again; and he seems to
think he cannot do without either."
The duchess looked at the two radiant faces; one sightless; the
other, with glad proud eyes for both; and her own filled with tears.
"Hoity-toity!" she said. "Are we in Salt Lake City? Well, we always
thought one girl would not do for Dal; he would need the combined
perfections of several; and he appears to think he has found them.
God bless you both, you absurdly happy people; and I will bless you,
too; but not until I have dined. Now, ring for that very nervous
person, with side-whiskers; and tell him I want my maid, and my
room, and I want to know where they have put my toucan. I had to
bring him, Jane. He is so LOVING, dear bird! I knew you would think
him in the way; but I really could not leave him behind."
