第7章

Instinctively she knew what he was about to say, for what he was trying to prepare her.She felt, too, that he had not expected to talk thus to her to-night.She knew that he loved her, that inevitably, sooner or later, they must return to a subject that for long had been excluded from their conversations, but it was to have been when they were alone, remote, secluded, not in the midst of a crowd, brilliant electrics dazzling their eyes, the humming of the talk of hundreds assaulting their ears.But it seemed as if these important things came of themselves, independent of time and place, like birth and death.There was nothing to do but to accept the situation, and it was without surprise that at last, from out the murmur of Corthell's talk, she was suddenly conscious of the words:

"So that it is hardly necessary, is it, to tell you once more that I love you?"She drew a long breath.

"I know.I know you love me."

They had sat down on a divan, at one end of the promenade; and Corthell, skilful enough in the little arts of the drawing-room, made it appear as though they talked of commonplaces; as for Laura, exalted, all but hypnotised with this marvellous evening, she hardly cared; she would not even stoop to maintain appearances.

"Yes, yes," she said; "I know you love me.""And is that all you can say?" he urged."Does it mean nothing to you that you are everything to me?"She was coming a little to herself again.Love was, after all, sweeter in the actual--even in this crowded foyer, in this atmosphere of silk and jewels, in this show-place of a great city's society--than in a mystic garden of some romantic dreamland.She felt herself a woman again, modern, vital, and no longer a maiden of a legend of chivalry.

"Nothing to me?" she answered."I don't know.

I should rather have you love me than--not.""Let me love you then for always," he went on."You know what I mean.We have understood each other from the very first.Plainly, and very simply, I love you with all my heart.You know now that I speak the truth, you know that you can trust me.I shall not ask you to share your life with mine.I ask you for the great happiness"--he raised his head sharply, suddenly proud--"the great honour of the opportunity of giving you all that I have of good.God give me humility, but that is much since I have known you.If I were a better man because of myself, I would not presume to speak of it, but if I am in anything less selfish, if Iam more loyal, if I am stronger, or braver, it is only something of you that has become a part of me, and made me to be born again.So when I offer myself to you, Iam only bringing back to you the gift you gave me for a little while.I have tried to keep it for you, to keep it bright and sacred and un-spotted.It is yours again now if you will have it."There was a long pause; a group of men in opera hats and white gloves came up the stairway close at hand.

The tide of promenaders set towards the entrances of the theatre.A little electric bell shrilled a note of warning.

Laura looked up at length, and as their glances met, he saw that there were tears in her eyes.This declaration of his love for her was the last touch to the greatest exhilaration of happiness she had ever known.Ah yes, she was loved, just as that young girl of the opera had been loved.For this one evening, at least, the beauty of life was unmarred, and no cruel word of hers should spoil it.The world was beautiful.

All people were good and noble and true.To-morrow, with the material round of duties and petty responsibilities and cold, calm reason, was far, far away.

Suddenly she turned to him, surrendering to the impulse, forgetful of consequences.

"Oh, I am glad, glad," she cried, "glad that you love me!"But before Corthell could say anything more Landry Court and Page came up.

"We've been looking for you," said the young girl quietly.Page was displeased.She took herself and her sister--in fact, the whole scheme of existence--with extraordinary seriousness.She had no sense of humour.She was not tolerant; her ideas of propriety and the amenities were as immutable as the fixed stars.

A fine way for Laura to act, getting off into corners with Sheldon Corthell.It would take less than that to make talk.If she had no sense of her obligations to Mrs.Cressler, at least she ought to think of the looks of things.

"They're beginning again," she said solemnly.

"I should think you'd feel as though you had missed about enough of this opera."They returned to the box.The rest of the party were reassembling.

"Well, Laura," said Mrs.Cressler, when they had sat down, "do you like it?""I don't want to leave it--ever," she answered.

"I could stay here always."

"I like the young man best," observed Aunt Wess'."The one who seems to be the friend of the tall fellow with a cloak.But why does he seem so sorry? Why don't he marry the young lady? Let's see, I don't remember his name.""Beastly voice," declared Landry Court."He almost broke there once.Too bad.He's not what he used to be.It seems he's terribly dissipated--drinks.Yes, sir, like a fish.He had delirium tremens once behind the scenes in Philadelphia, and stabbed a scene shifter with his stage dagger.A bad lot, to say the least.""Now, Landry," protested Mrs.Cressler, "you're making it up as you go along." And in the laugh that followed Landry himself joined.

"After all," said Corthell, "this music seems to be just the right medium between the naive melody of the Italian school and the elaborate complexity of Wagner.

I can't help but be carried away with it at times--in spite of my better judgment."Jadwin, who had been smoking a cigar in the vestibule during the _entr'acte,_ rubbed his chin reflectively.