Tales Of Men And Ghosts
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Edith Wharton >> Tales Of Men And Ghosts
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To escape from the sensation, she rose and went again to thewindow.
No one was in sight. But presently the gate began to swing back, and
her heart gave a leap--she knew not whether up ordown. A moment
later the gate opened slowly to admit a perambulator, propelled by
the nurse and flanked by Juliet and Andora. Lizzie's eyes rested on
the familiar group as if she hadnever seen it before, and she stood
motionless, instead of flyingdown to meet the children.
Suddenly there was a step on the stairs, and she heard Andora's
agitated knock. She unbolted the door, and was strainedto her
friend's emaciated bosom.
"My darling!" Miss Macy cried. "Remember you have your child--and
me!"
Lizzie loosened herself gently. She looked at Andora with afeeling
of estrangement which she could not explain.
"Have you spoken to my husband?" she asked, drawing coldly back.
"Spoken to him? No." Andora stared at her in genuine wonder.
"Then you haven't met him since he left me?"
"No, my love. Is he out? I haven't met him."
Lizzie sat down with a confused sense of relief, which welled up to
her throat and made speech difficult.
Suddenly light came to Andora. "I understand, dearest. Youdon't feel
able to see him yourself. You want me to go to him for you." She
looked about her, scenting the battle. "You're right, darling. As
soon as he comes in I'll go to him. The sooner we get it over the
better."
She followed Lizzie, who without answering her had turned
mechanically back to the window. As they stood there, the gate moved
again, and Deering entered the garden.
"There he is now!" Lizzie felt Andora's fervent clutch uponher arm.
"Where are the letters? I will go down at once. You allow me to
speak for you? You trust my woman's heart? Oh, believe me, darling,"
Miss Macy panted, "I shall know just what to say to him!"
"What to say to him?" Lizzie absently repeated.
As her husband advanced up the path she had a sudden trembling
vision of their three years together. Those years were her
wholelife; everything before them had been colorless and
unconscious, like the blind life of the plant before it reaches the
surface ofthe soil. They had not been exactly what she dreamed; but
if they had taken away certain illusions, they had left richer
realities in their stead. She understood now that she had gradually
adjusted herself to the new image of her husband as he was, as he
would always be. He was not the hero of her dream, but he was the
man she loved, and who had loved her. For she saw now, in this last
wide flash of pity and initiation, that, as a solid marble may
bemade out of worthless scraps of mortar, glass and pebbles, so
outof mean mixed substances may be fashioned a love that will bear
the stress of life.
More urgently, she felt the pressure of Miss Macy's hand.
"I shall hand him the letters without a word. You may rely, love, on
my sense of dignity. I know everything you're feeling at this
moment!"
Deering had reached the door-step. Lizzie continued to watch him in
silence till he disappeared under the glazed roof of the porch below
the window; then she turned and looked almost compassionately at her
friend.
"Oh, poor Andora, you don't know anything--you don't know anything
at all!" she said.
THE END
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