A Singer from the Sea

by Amelia E. Barr

Never before had Denas had such joy in God’s pleasant gift of a melodious voice. To look at her father’s and mother’s faces was a happiness sufficient. The adoration of Tris, the delight and gratitude of her friends, the conviction that she had lifted for a few moments mortal men above their mortality 335 and made them realise that they should “yet see God,” was in itself a recompense beyond anything she had ever dreamed of. Nor could she put aside the comparisons that naturally came from this effort of her power. To sing holily and loftily, to sing in––

“... Strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of death”––

How dear to heaven and earth such saintly melody! How different from the––

“Midnight song and revelry, Tipsy dance and jollity”

that had once appeared an elysium of musical ravishment to her.

Tris walked home with Denas, and this evening they came very close to each other. And then, at the close of it, Tris unfortunately said some words which showed how bitterly he regarded the years that had been stolen from him by Roland Tresham. And Denas resented the anger shown to this paling, dying shade of her memory, and the next day Tris went away with Mr. Arundel and did not return for full five weeks.

But Mr. Arundel had been so much interested in the singer as to ask from Tris all that he could tell him of the life of Denas. And Tris, like all lovers, was only too glad to talk of the girl he adored; so as they sat together at midnight on the lonely sea, with the full moon above them, they grew very confidential. Tris told all the story of his love, and Mr. Arundel told Tris about the beauty 336 and accomplishments of the woman he was going to marry; and there was, in this way, a kind of intimacy established which resulted in a financial proposition making the question of marriage a very easy and happy one to Captain Tristram Penrose, of the yacht Spindrift.

That five weeks of lonely heartache taught Denas that Tris had become a very dear portion of her life, and when he returned he found it more easy than he had dared hope to induce her to bury for ever the strange years which a strange love had somehow slipped into her sheaf of life. And she promised Tris to let them fall from out her grasp, all the vain regrets, the vain hopes, the vain love which were garnered in them.

Then Tris told her that he had signed a contract with Mr. Arundel for five years, and that a portion of this contract was the use of the stone cottage on the hill beyond the Abbey––the pretty home covered with clematis and jasmine vines and surrounded by a lovely garden. He said if Denas would share it with him he would make it as beautiful within as it was without, and that he would love her more and more fondly to the last moment of his life. He spoke with all the simple passion of his nature and circumstances; but his heart was hot behind his words, and Denas gave herself freely to their persuasion.

They were sitting on the rocks by the sea-side as she did so; the waves were breaking at their feet; the boats were lying on the horizon; the village was as quiet as a painted village. She gave her 337 heart and hand to Tris there; she suffered him at last to take her to his heart and kiss her; she intoxicated him with rapture by shyly kissing him in return. Then they went back to the village together. Joan was asleep in her chair. John was away with the boats. They both kissed Joan and Tris called her “mother.” And Joan said she had just been dreaming of such a joy, and she blessed them and then went to the door and looked toward the Darling Denas. If she could only see her old dear upon the deck, she thought she could send a thought, a thanksgiving, that would somehow, some way, reach him.