A happy woman
"Look me in the face," he said; but Sara would not.
Then she gave a weary little sigh.
"Love is very strong," she said, "but if it is only love for this
life, it is not worth much. What good would love do if you and I
were drowning? Supposing I got safely to a rock, and you were still
struggling in the water, if you refused the rock, would our love be
worth much?"
He dropped her hands.
"You are as cold and hard as ice!" he said bitterly. "I will say no
more."
In silence they retraced their steps to the house. Then just as he
opened the gate for her, Sara put her hand on his arm. It was dusk, but
he saw that tears were in her eyes.
"Forgive me for having hurt you," she said; "you can have the assurance
that I am if anything more unhappy than you are at present. I would
give a good deal to be able to give you the answer you would like."
"You are wrapped up in unassailable self-righteousness," was the quick
reply, "too celestial to mate with men on the earth!"
He had hurt her now, and he knew it, but he was in a seething state of
wild rebellion and bitter disappointment. He went straight off to his
study and stayed there, and Sara shut herself into her room and had a
very miserable hour.
"I have allowed myself to love him," she moaned; "and now I am dealing
him a real blow. How I long to go straight down to the study and
into his arms! If only he had the one thing! He is so unselfish, so
honourable, so chivalrous and kind to women in need! I could trust him
so utterly and entirely! And yet I know it would spoil his life and
mine if we married each other. He would shunt all the religious work
off on me and never give it a thought. If he has to tackle it alone,
isn't it possible that it may lead him to think more seriously! Oh, I
hope it may, for I feel as if I have now destroyed something in his
soul, and I must, I do, seem a self-righteous prig! How difficult it
is! If he only knew that I am deliberately shutting the gate of golden
romance and love in front of me. I have only now a lonely old age to
look forward to, and I love him. I can't do anything but love him with
all my heart and with all my soul."
Tears would have been a relief to her, but she fought them bravely,
this was no time for tears. Mrs. Laird was expecting her even now in
the drawing-room to pour out afternoon tea. She must go down, and wear
a bright face as usual.
She was rather relieved when she did go to find that Ina was out. Mrs.
Laird and she were quite alone. Graham sent in word that he was busy
and did not want any tea. Sara was glad of the message. Not so his
mother. Instinctively she knew something was wrong. She looked across
at Sara in perplexity.
"Did you not come in together, Sara? Is he upset at your going away?
Has anything passed between you?"
"A good deal," said Sara, gently; "and we are both unhappy in
consequence. Your son has made me an offer of marriage, dear Mrs.
Laird, and I have refused him."
Mrs. Laird uttered a little piteous cry.
"Oh, Sara, it has been the hope of my heart lately. Don't say that you
mean it! I longed for him to speak to you before. He has loved you ever
since the first day that you entered the house; he told me so. But he
has been diffident of himself, and with his rare unselfishness was
afraid of your refusal, and then feared for my sake that his proposal
would drive you away from us. He has been so happy lately. He hoped the
congenial work waiting for you might induce you to look upon him more
favourably. He has such humble ideas of his own power to attract, and
he is so proud and reticent that a refusal from you will be very bitter
to him. Don't you love him, dear? I have seen a look in your eyes
sometimes when he is speaking that makes me think you must."
Sara knelt down by Mrs. Laird's chair, and tried to speak calmly.
"Oh, dear Mrs. Laird, I know how I am disappointing you, but much as I
like and admire your son as a friend, I could not make him my husband.
We should not be suited to each other. We should not make each other
happy."
"Why not? He worships the ground you tread on, he has never given me a
day's anxiety in his life; a good son makes a good husband. Is he not
good enough for you?"
Tears rose in Sara's eyes, and could not be repressed.
"I fear you will not understand," she whispered; "I could not marry any
one who did not put God first in his life. I am not a woman who can
marry easily. I am no mere girl, and I have my ideals. No happiness
comes to those who are not absolutely one in the matter of eternal
things."
Mrs. Laird was speechless. But she stooped and kissed Sara.
"That will come," she said with conviction; "a mother's prayers will be
answered. Is that your only reason for refusing him?"
Sara nodded. She could not speak.
"Never mind, my dear. I have learnt to wait, and I can wait still. You
will pray for him with me."
Ina came in at this moment, and their talk was interrupted.
Sara was busy for the rest of the day packing and leaving instructions
for Ina and the servants.
The next morning the post was late, and letters were opened at the
breakfast table. Graham made an exclamation as he read one of his. His
mother's quick eyes had seen that it was from Eva.
"I must go up to town at once," he said. "I was going to drive you to
the station, Miss Darlington. I think now that I shall accompany you to
town if you will allow me."
Sara murmured that she would be very pleased, though she hardly felt so.
"Is it business?" asked Mrs. Laird. "You have heard from Eva, have you
not?"
"Yes, it is her business. She is staying in town and wants to see me.
It is rather important."
So very shortly afterwards Graham was driving Sara to the station, and
though both were silent, both were thinking of the first drive when
they met each other for the first time. It was a cold foggy day. He was
very particular about her comfort, and when they were settled in the
train, wrapped his own plaid round her knees to keep her warm. Then,
when they were really off, he spoke.
"A night's rest has made me ashamed of myself," he said; "I want to
apologize for my lack in courtesy yesterday—I promise you I am not
going to refer to the matter again. You have a perfect right to act in
life as you think best. And I bow to your decision. For my mother's
sake there need not be a break in our friendship, need there?"
Sara looked up at him and smiled.
"No," she said; "and I shall go away the happier for feeling that there
is no bitterness between us."
Peace was made. Though they did not talk much, all awkwardness
disappeared between them, and when they arrived at Euston Station, it
was with mutual good will that they parted.
And then Sara found herself in her brother's house again, being
welcomed with tears from Lacy, and with real gratitude and affection
from Arnold. He took her straight upstairs to the nursery, and himself
took his baby son out of his cot and put him in her arms.
"He has suffered, poor mite, from being motherless, and the first days
were torment to me, hearing his incessant wail for her. But now he is
all right, nurse tells me."
Sara bent down and kissed the tiny puckered face.
"I will do my best to be a mother to him," she said softly.
The baby opened his eyes and looked up, then a faint smile came to his
lips.
"There!" said the old monthly nurse triumphantly. "He has taken you
into his little heart, ma'am."
And Sara felt that from that moment she had taken him into hers.
BOOK II
CHAPTER I
A MOVE TO THE COUNTRY
"WELL, my dear Sara, and how are you? And the infant? I've come in for
a regular good long gossip. I only got back to town last night, and two
months' absence is an unheard-of thing for me!"
It was little Miss Grafton who spoke. Sara had been living in her
brother's house for six months, and it was now June. She was sitting
in the upstairs drawing-room by the open window. The balcony outside
was gay with flowers. Inside, the room was fragrant with pots of lilies
of the valley and mignonette. Sara herself always gave her friends the
idea of fresh fragrance. She was in a pale blue linen gown, and she was
sewing some dainty white for the chubby baby, who was sprawling on a
soft rug at her feet.
"I am always delighted to see you, as you know," she said. "Come and
have my chair. It is very comfortable."
"So is this one, thank you. I don't want to disturb the pretty picture
before me. Bless me! How the boy has grown!"
The baby, seeing a stranger, began to whimper. Sara put down her work,
and took him upon her lap. With coaxing words and smiles she comforted
him. And pillowing his head on her arm, he put his thumb in his mouth,
and placidly regarded the old lady in front of him.
"Isn't he a darling? Nurse had to go out and I am minding him. Well!
We are going along very smoothly. I don't see much of Arnold. He is
out a good deal, and is working very hard at present. He is not the
same man since his wife's death, Miss Grafton. He seems restless and
preoccupied. Yesterday evening he told me he had a chance of going
abroad, and he thought he would take it."
"And does he want you to go with him?"
"Oh, dear no! I suppose I shall stay on here."
"Not through the very hot weather, will you?"
"It would be nice to take baby to the sea," said Sara, reflectively. "I
must talk to Arnold about it."
"And how are your friends in the North? Do you hear from them still?"
"Mrs. Laird is a very regular correspondent. I heard from her this
month. They have quite settled down in their new home. They went
straight into the old cousin's house. I think I told you about her, did
I not? I heard one pleasant bit of news. Ina, the nice girl who is with
Mrs. Laird and who took my place, is just engaged to be married."
"Oh, ho! To that immaculate son, I suppose. What is his name? Gerald,
isn't it?"
"Graham. No, not to him, but to his great friend, a Colonel Fleming.
I am so very glad! He is such a cheery delightful little man, and so
good!"
"And they are going to be married soon? She'll be leaving the old lady.
What a pity she did not marry the other man, and then they could have
still remained the same happy family! Do you know, at one time I was
almost afraid you would have engaged yourself to him. I am sure he must
have adored you."
Sara looked down at the baby in her arms. His eyes were heavy with
sleep. She altered his position a little, and then was able to meet her
old friend's bright eyes with equanimity.
"He and I would not have suited each other, Miss Grafton."
"Ah, Sara, my dear, you must marry! The way you hold that child makes
me know you were meant for a mother. Don't be too fastidious. Don't
drift into a single life as I did, because I was always waiting for an
impossible bird in the bush."
Sara laughed her low happy laugh, but there was a wistful look in her
eyes, which did not escape Miss Grafton.
"What a pity they have left that lovely country place by the lake and
mountains!" continued the old lady. "For you and baby could have paid
them a visit. I am sure they would have loved to have you. But as it
is, a colliery town is not the most attractive place in summer."
"No, I don't think that place would be at all feasible," replied Sara.
A little silence fell upon them, broken by the entrance of Lacy
ushering in a visitor.
And the visitor was Colonel Fleming.
"I took the chance of finding you at home. This is good."
He came forward in his usual hearty, impetuous fashion, and Sara
welcomed him gladly.
She introduced him to Miss Grafton.
"I've never looked her up before," he said to the old lady in a
confidential manner, "but I was up on particular business, and I wanted