"Then, Agnes, darling"--he drew her to the table "we must talk together a little. If she won't, then we ought to.""WE tell him?" cried the girl, white with horror. "Tell him now, when everything has been comfortably arranged?""You see, darling"--he took hold of her hand--"what one must do is to think the thing out and settle what's right, I'm still all trembling and stupid. I see it mixed up with other things. I want you to help me. It seems to me that here and there in life we meet with a person or incident that is symbolical. It's nothing in itself, yet for the moment it stands for some eternal principle. We accept it, at whatever costs, and we have accepted life. But if we are frightened and reject it, the moment, so to speak, passes; the symbol is never offered again. Is this nonsense? Once before a symbol was offered to me--I shall not tell you how; but I did accept it, and cherished it through much anxiety and repulsion, and in the end I am rewarded. There will be no reward this time. I think, from such a man--the son of such a man. But I want to do what is right.""Because doing right is its own reward," said Agnes anxiously.
"I do not think that. I have seen few examples of it. Doing right is simply doing right.""I think that all you say is wonderfully clever; but since you ask me, it IS nonsense, dear Rickie, absolutely.""Thank you," he said humbly, and began to stroke her hand. "But all my disgust; my indignation with my father, my love for--" He broke off; he could not bear to mention the name of his mother.
"I was trying to say, I oughtn't to follow these impulses too much. There are others things. Truth. Our duty to acknowledge each man accurately, however vile he is. And apart from ideals"(here she had won the battle), "and leaving ideals aside, Icouldn't meet him and keep silent. It isn't in me. I should blurt it out.""But you won't meet him!" she cried. "It's all been arranged.
We've sent him to the sea. Isn't it splendid? He's gone. My own boy won't be fantastic, will he?" Then she fought the fantasy on its own ground. "And, bye the bye, what you call the 'symbolic moment' is over. You had it up by the Rings. You tried to tell him, I interrupted you. It's not your fault. You did all you could."She thought this excellent logic, and was surprised that he looked so gloomy. "So he's gone to the sea. For the present that does settle it. Has Aunt Emily talked about him yet?""No. Ask her tomorrow if you wish to know. Ask her kindly. It would be so dreadful if you did not part friends, and--""What's that?"
It was Stephen calling up from the drive. He had come back. Agnes threw out her hand in despair.
"Elliot!" the voice called.
They were facing each other, silent and motionless. Then Rickie advanced to the window. The girl darted in front of him. He thought he had never seen her so beautiful. She was stopping his advance quite frankly, with widespread arms.
"Elliot!"
He moved forward--into what? He pretended to himself he would rather see his brother before he answered; that it was easier to acknowledge him thus. But at the back of his soul he knew that the woman had conquered, and that he was moving forward to acknowledge her. "If he calls me again--" he thought.
"Elliot!"
"Well, if he calls me once again, I will answer him, vile as he is."He did not call again.
Stephen had really come back for some tobacco, but as he passed under the windows he thought of the poor fellow who had been "nipped" (nothing serious, said Mrs. Failing), and determined to shout good-bye to him. And once or twice, as he followed the river into the darkness, he wondered what it was like to be so weak,--not to ride, not to swim, not to care for anything but books and a girl.
They embraced passionately. The danger had brought them very near to each other. They both needed a home to confront the menacing tumultuous world. And what weary years of work, of waiting, lay between them and that home! Still holding her fast, he said, "Iwas writing to Ansell when you came in."
"Do you owe him a letter?"
"No." He paused. "I was writing to tell him about this. He would help us. He always picks out the important point.""Darling, I don't like to say anything, and I know that Mr. Ansell would keep a secret, but haven't we picked out the important point for ourselves?"He released her and tore the letter up.
