She felt quite sure, now, that she could never marry the Professor; and humbly she thanked G.o.d for opening her eyes to the wrong she had contemplated, before it was too late.
But there still remained the difficult prospect of having to disappoint a man she esteemed so highly; a man who had been led to believe she cared for him, and had waited years for him; a man who, for years, had set his heart upon her. This was a heavy stone, and it lay right in the path of perfect bliss which she longed to tread with her Little Boy Blue.
Who should roll it away?
Could she feel free to take happiness with the Boy, if she had disappointed and crushed a deeply sensitive nature which trusted her?
She dressed, and went down to the breakfast-room, her soul filled, in spite of perplexities, with a radiance of glad thanksgiving.
Martha and Jenkins came in to prayers. Martha had now taken to curling all her wisps. She appeared with many frizzled ringlets, kept in place by invisible pins.
Martha always came in to prayers, as if she were marching at the head of a long row of men and maids. Jenkins followed meekly, placing his chair at what would have been the tail of Martha"s imaginary retinue.
According to the triumphant dignity of Martha"s entry, Jenkins placed his chair near or far away. Martha was in great form to-day. Jenkins sat almost at the door. If the door-bell rang during prayers, the first ring was tacitly ignored; but if it rang again, Martha signed to Jenkins, who tiptoed reverently out, and answered it. No matter how early in the morning"s devotions the interruption occurred, Jenkins never considered it etiquette to return. Miss Charteris used to dread a duet alone with Martha. She always became too intensely conscious of herself and of Martha, to be uplifted as usual by the inspired words of Bible and Prayer-book. The presence of Jenkins at once const.i.tuted a congregation.
On this particular morning, no interruptions occurred.
The portion for the day chanced to be the scene at the empty tomb, in the early dawn of that first Easter Day, as given by Saint Mark.
The quiet voice vibrated with unusual emotion as Miss Charteris read:
"_And very early in the morning, the first day of the week, they came unto the sepulchre at the rising of the sun. And they said among themselves, Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulchre? And when they looked, they saw that the stone was rolled away: for it was very great._"
Christobel Charteris paused. She seemed to see the sh.o.r.e at Dovercourt, and the brave little figure struggling to carry the heavy stone; and, later on when the cannon-ball lay safely in the castle court-yard, Little Boy Blue standing erect, with lifted cap, and shining eyes, a picture of faith triumphant.
"_I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not._"
How far were the happenings of this strange night owing to that dead mother"s prayers; and to the Boy"s unfailing faith, even through these hard days?
Miss Charteris could read no farther. She closed the Bible. "Let us pray," she said, and turned to the Collect for the week.
"_O G.o.d, Whose never-failing providence ordereth all things both in heaven and earth: We humbly beseech Thee to put away from us all hurtful things, and to give us those things which be profitable for us; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen._"
On the breakfast-table, beside her plate, lay the Professor"s letter.
She had known it would be there.
She poured out her coffee and b.u.t.tered her toast.
Then she opened the letter.
"My dear Ann"----
After the nightmare through which she had just pa.s.sed, this beginning scarcely surprised her. She glanced back at the envelope to make quite sure it was addressed to herself; then read on. It was dated the evening before, from the Professor"s rooms in College.
"MY DEAR ANN,--I regret to have been unable to look in upon you this evening, on my return from town, and my duties will keep me from paying you a visit until to-morrow, in the late afternoon. Hence this letter.
"Needless to say, I have been thinking over, carefully, the remarkable statement you saw fit to make to me, concerning the feelings and expectations of our young friend. It came to me as a genuine surprise.
I have always looked upon our friendship as purely Platonic; based entirely upon the intellectual enjoyment we found in pursuing our cla.s.sical studies together.
"I admit, I cannot bring myself to contemplate matrimony with much enthusiasm.
"At the same time, your feeling in the matter being so strong, and my sense of grat.i.tude toward my late friend, a thing never to be forgotten; if you are quite sure, Ann--and I confess it seems to me altogether incredible--that our young friend entertains, toward me, feelings which will mean serious disappointment to her, if I fail----"
This brought the letter to the bottom of the first page.
Without reading any farther, Miss Charteris folded it, and replaced it in the envelope.
The indignant blood had mounted to the roots of her soft fair hair.
But already, in her heart, sounded a song of wondering praise.
"_And when they looked, they saw that the stone was rolled away: for it was very great._"
The iron gate of the front garden swung open. Hurried steps flew up the path. Emma, poor soul, had been told to _fly_; and Emma had flown.
She almost fell into the arms of Jenkins, as he opened the hall door.
The note with which Emma had run, at a speed which was now causing her "such a st.i.tch as never was," came from Miss Ann, and was marked "_urgent_" and "_immediate_."
The corners of Christobel"s proud mouth curved into a quiet smile as she took it from the salver. She had expected this note.
"Take Emma downstairs, Jenkins," she said. "Ask Martha to give her a cup of coffee, and an egg, if she fancies it. Tell Emma, I wish her to sit down comfortably and rest. The answer to this note will be ready in about half an hour; not before."
Miss Charteris finished her coffee and toast, poured out a fresh cup, and took some marmalade. She did not hurry over her breakfast.
When she had quite finished, she rose, and walked over to the writing-table. She sat down, opened her blotter, took paper and envelopes; found a pen, and tried it.
Then she opened Miss Ann"s letter, marked "urgent" and "immediate."
"SWEETEST CHILD" (wrote Miss Ann)--"See what Kenrick has done! We--you and I--_so_ understand his dear absent-minded ways. He wrote this letter to you last night, and, owing to his natural emotion and tension of mind, addressed it to me! Needless to say, I have read only the opening sentences. Darling Christobel, you will, I feel sure, overlook the very natural mistake, and not allow it in any way to affect your answer to my brother"s proposal. Remember how difficult it is for _great_ minds to be accurate in the _small_ details of _daily_ life. I have known Kenrick to put two spoonfuls of mustard into a cup of coffee, stir it round, and drink it, _quite_ unaware that anything was wrong--I have indeed! See how our dear Professor needs a _wife_!
"I feel quite foolishly anxious this morning. Do send me one line of a.s.surance that all is well. You cannot but be touched by my brother"s letter. From beginning to end, it breathes the faithful devotion of a lifetime. Do not misunderstand the natural reticence of one wholly unaccustomed to the voicing of sentiment. I only wish you could hear all he _says_ to me!"
Then followed a few prayers and devout allusions to Providence--which brought a stern look to the face of Miss Charteris--and, with a whiff of effusive sentiment, Ann Harvey closed her epistle.
An open letter from the Professor to herself was enclosed; but this, Christobel quietly laid aside.
She took pen and paper, and wrote at once the note for which Emma waited.