She looked up at him in wonder. He seemed no longer the kind and patient husband whom she had held in secret contempt because of what had seemed to her his lack of force--of spirit. Here was a man who meant to be obeyed.
"And, when you have done so," she heard him saying, "ask Him to help you to be worthy of them. G.o.d knows you need it." He stood over her, looking down at her with fierce determination.
She caught his glance, and her eyes fell. "You--you won"t let me go?"
she faltered.
"No. Your place is here, and here you shall stay. I have stood all of this folly that I intend to stand."
She buried her face in the pillows of the couch beside which she was kneeling, and lay thus for a long time, shaking with sobs. Into her mind had come a new emotion--a new understanding of her love for her husband. Always before he had failed to master her, to make her feel that in the conjunction of their two lives he was the dominant spirit, willing even to govern her by force, when force seemed necessary to her welfare. What had changed him so? What had caused him to keep her here, at his side, against her will? What, indeed, but his love for her? She knew it was that, knew that, had he been indifferent to her, he would have let her pa.s.s from his life without lifting a hand to prevent it. A fierce joy rose within her heart that this man desired her so greatly--that he held her, as the primitive man held his women, by the right of might. She wanted all the luxuries that had come to her--wanted them still, but, compared with the joy of realizing that Donald still loved her, they seemed as nothing.
So he had held her--meant to hold her, against everything in the world--against even herself, and her own folly. She rejoiced in the thought, and her sobbing ceased. After all--he--he and her little boy--were more to her than anything that money could buy. Had Donald temporized with her--allowed her to keep the money that had come to her, she knew in her heart that she would have secretly despised him, that in the end she would have ceased to love him. It seemed good to be home again--good to be alive. She had always wanted someone to rule her--she felt strangely humble, knowing her own weakness. Presently she raised her head, and found him standing beside her. With a swift, eager movement she grasped his hand.
"I"m so--very--very glad!" she sobbed, unable to keep back her tears. "I did not--want--to go. I never--never--want to--go away from you--again."
She looked up, her eyes shining. "Donald--do you--still care for--me--a little?" she asked, in a quavering voice. "Do you?"
Donald"s sudden burst of rage had gone. He stood looking at her with a deep sadness in his eyes. After all, she seemed so much a child. "Do you think I would take the trouble to keep you here, if I did not?" he asked.
She began to sob violently. "Donald--forgive me--forgive me!" she cried.
"I shall--never go away from you--and--Bobbie--as--long--as--I live."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "YOU--YOU WON"T LET ME GO?" SHE FALTERED]
He looked down, not understanding this sudden change in her. "I have kept you here for the sake of our boy," he said slowly, "and here you must stay. But, for your sake and mine, independent of him, you must answer me one question. Were you West"s mistress?"
She started to her feet, and dashed the tears from her eyes. "No!" she cried. "Before G.o.d--no! I was just as bad, I know, for I intended to be, but that one thing I had not done."
"Are you telling me the truth?"
"Oh, Donald, I am--I am!" she cried hysterically.
"Then there is still a chance for you, and for me," he said, his face lighting up with sudden joy.
"Donald!" she cried; "Donald!" and tried to smile through her tears. As she spoke, the door of the bedroom opened, and she heard a childish voice. "Mamma!" it said, and Bobbie rushed up to her, and threw his arms about her.
She reached down and clasped him to her breast. "My darling--my darling!" she cried, as she kissed him.
"Mamma--I"m so glad you"ve come. I had such awful dreams. I dreamed that you and papa were fighting, and I came and called, and you wouldn"t listen to me."
"Never mind, precious. It"s all right now," she said, soothing him.
"Papa told me if I prayed very hard for you to come back, you would--and you _did_, didn"t you, mamma?"
"Yes, dear," she said; then looked toward her husband, and smiled happily.
"And you won"t ever go away and leave me any more, mamma?"
"No, Bobbie--never more." She rose, and, tearing off her hat, flung it carelessly aside, then went up to her husband, holding out her hands.
"Donald," she said, "I am ready to do anything you wish--anything." She appeared very happy, and looked at him with a new and almost girlish embarra.s.sment.
He held out his arms, and took her to his heart. "Edith!" he said; then softly kissed her hair.
THE END.