"That is what happened," she said, calmly. "I have thought that out, too. I think he was right, you know—dear Harry."
He looked up in surprise at this.
"I couldn't have sanctioned it," she said. "And yet I should have sympathized with him—much more than he had any idea of. I'm proud of him. But, oh, how I wish he could have trusted me a little more."
She laid down her work on her lap and gazed into the fire. Wilbraham was stirred by her utterance, so unlike her, with her calm self-control and entire command over all her emotions, to which even now, after years of knowing her, and the springs of her conduct, he had small clue.
She took up her work again, and spoke with as much calmness as before. "I've sometimes asked myself," she said, "whether I wasn't getting so much interested in carrying out a great experiment as to forget what it all tended to. But I don't think I can fairly lay that to my charge. I have loved the boy too much to treat him just as the object of an experiment. If at any time I had thought that I—that we—were not doing rightly by him in keeping him here away from everything that might have prepared him for the future, in the way that other boys are prepared for it—I should have given up the idea, and let the world in on us—and on him. At the beginning I don't think I had any thought of carrying the seclusion as far as I have done. That was only to have been for his childhood. But it has been so fascinating to see him grow up here and only become stronger and finer as he got older. I don't think he has missed anything that would have been for his good. Anything that he has missed has been made up to him in other ways. His intense love of nature—none of us have been able to share that with him to increase his love for it, but I have watched it with a glad heart. It has seemed as if my plan had been helped by it, in a way I couldn't have expected—or at least not to that extent. And the way the people all love him here! He had got right down into their hearts as he couldn't have done unless he had lived with them day after day, all the year round, and for year after year, so that they have been his friends outside his home, and not people away from here or coming here from time to time with whom they could have no concern. Everything has encouraged me to go on. Even the extra freedom that he has taken to himself of late has pleased me. He hasn't felt himself fettered. He has had the life he wanted, and surely it must have been the best life one could have given him, if it has made him so happy."
"Yes," said Wilbraham. "He has made himself happy, and he can be trusted."
The unhappy look on his face had not lightened during her long speech, and he spoke now as if to reassure himself that what she had said was true. Ever since Harry had gone off before dawn on that morning a week ago, leaving messages of love and farewell for his mother and grandmother, he had been asking himself the meaning of it, and whether it was right for him any longer to keep back from Lady Brent what he knew about Harry and she didn't.
How much had Viola had to do with it? Nothing, he was sure, in persuasion of Harry. But Wilbraham knew that his love for her had changed the whole current of his life. Perhaps he wouldn't have gone off like that if he had never seen her.
If Wilbraham could have made up his mind to tell Lady Brent everything, he would have been able to gain from her some consolation in return. He needed it at this time. She was the only person who knew of his temptation, and she had been good to him about it in the past.
The poor man was going through a bad time on his own account. Perhaps he was just emerging from it, but its effects were still heavy on him. After seeing Viola and her father together, in an atmosphere so different from that in which he had first seen Bastian alone, he had had a vivid sense of shame, which had increased after he had seen Harry. The idealism of their fresh youth had made his own lapse look very ugly to him, and still more the knowledge which he had not admitted to himself until later that he was still playing with the idea of drinking with Bastian, though rejecting the possibility of being caught once more in the toils.