“No! there must be no delay,” she whispered, as at last, weary with thought, she laid her head on her pillow. “I will go to-morrow, or, at any rate, on the day following.” And with this determination, she fell asleep.
Just in the gray light before the dawning, she leaped from her bed like one pursued. She was drenched in the sweat of terror; the very sheets which had wrapped her were wet with the unhappy dew. To the window she ran, and threw it open, and leaned far out, and looked up and down the dim, silent street, sighing heavily, and wringing her hands like a child in terror, lost and perplexed. It was strange to see her walk round the room, touch the chairs, the ornaments, lift her garments, and finally go to the mirror and peer into it at her own white face.
A few hours later she was in Woodsome, talking to Peter Van Hoosen. Memories and fears that she could not endure were pressing her so sorely that she must needs tell them, and there seemed to be no one at once so strong and so sympathetic as Antony’s father. He was listening to her story with an almost incredulous silence, as with tears and shame-dyed cheeks, she confessed her many sins and contradictions against her husband. Peter sat with eyes cast down, but ever and anon he lifted his searching gaze to the penitent’s face; and anger and pity strove for the mastery.
“I think I was possessed of a devil,” she said, and she looked hopelessly at Peter, with the self-accusation.
“You were possessed of yourself, Rose Van Hoosen; and there is no greater mystery than to be possessed of self.”
“I know. I never cared for Antony’s happiness. It was always what I wanted, and what I thought. That is the reason I must go and tell him how sorry I am.”
“You must go further and higher than Antony. You must feel as David felt when he cried out to God, ‘Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned; and done this evil in Thy sight.’ It is not Antony, but God, you will have to answer. You have lived as the fool lives. You have not remembered that every day is bringing you closer to that Great Day when this heaven and earth shall pass away like a burning scroll. Then Rose, you yourself will have to tell what you have done with the love and the time and the money that have been loaned you. If God sent you away from His presence forever, how could you bear it?”
An awful fear came into her eyes; she was white as death, and she trembled visibly.