Jeremy experienced the most inexplicable feeling of the young lover—admiration for the beloved. He wished to hold her away from him, to contemplate the lovely face, the gallant eyes, to tell her how wonderful she was, and how he could thank Heaven for her even if he might never touch her hand again. And on the heels of this came a great rush of unbearable longing, with the realization that human tongue was not able to express, or human nerves to endure, his love for her. He turned dizzy and faint, his sight went black, and he stretched out his arms vaguely and helplessly. When she gave herself into them, he clasped her fiercely as though by force he could make her part of himself, and she bore his clumsy violence gladly.
“This hurts me,” he said in the puzzled voice of a child, when he had let her go again. She gave him with wet eyes a sufficient answer. Then he went on with the same simplicity, “I have been so lonely here—I didn’t know how lonely. Are we going to be happy now? I am afraid ... of what may happen....” She kissed him once and rose.
“I must go now,” she said steadily. “Oh, we shall be happy—this dread means nothing, it is only because we are so happy.” He started and looked at her, made uneasy by her echo of his thoughts. “Good-by, my dear,” she said. She left the room quietly without his raising a hand to keep her back.
When she had gone his feelings were too violent to find vent in any movement. He sat quite still for some minutes until his brain was calmer and he could at last stand up and walk about the room. It was thus that the Speaker found him; and Jeremy stopped guiltily and stood waiting. The old man was evidently still in good humor. He stroked his chin and regarded Jeremy with beaming eyes.
“I take it you are feeling better,” he pronounced drily, after a moment’s silence.
“I am quite well,” Jeremy answered hurriedly, “very well. I must tell you at once, sir——”
The Speaker stopped him with a gesture. “I know. I passed my daughter in the corridor leading to her room. You want to tell me that you have taken my gift before I could make it. Nevertheless, I shall have the great joy of putting her hand in yours at the banquet to-night.”
“I can’t thank you ...” Jeremy mumbled.
The Speaker made a benevolent movement of his hand. “What you and she have done,” he went on, “is much against our customs, but we are not ordinary people, you and I and she. You will be happy together, and it will make me happy to see you so. And I think you are young enough to get from her the help that I should have had, if there had not been so many years between us. She has something of me in her that you will be able to use. You will need to use it, for you will have a great deal to do, both now and afterwards, when I am gone and you are the Speaker.”
Jeremy inclined his head in silence.