Rachel did not answer, but kept her eyes on the top branches of the tree above her. He did not know her eyes were full of tears. He thought he had explained the situation to her satisfaction, and supposed she knew him well enough to understand that it was his great love for her that was the cause of his decision not to worry her with his troubles.
And Rachel, sitting by his side on the soft moss, kept her eyes away, and wondered if all men were as ignorant of a woman's heart as Luke, or whether it was just because he lived so much up in the clouds that he had never studied human nature.
Luke flung himself back on the moss with his hands behind his head and looked in the same direction as his wife. The silence between them struck him as beautiful and restful, and he felt certain that Rachel was enjoying it to the full, as he was. Silence is the greatest proof of friendship, and it was a luxury to him.
Rachel on the other hand, felt she had rather too much of that luxury. As yet she had made no real friends. Mrs. Stone was the one that she liked best, but they were not on sufficiently intimate terms for her to feel she could run into her house should she be dull. So that with the exception of Polly and her mother-in-law she had no conversation except when callers came. And the callers were not always of the stamp of people with whom she could exchange thoughts. Besides, they often talked about people and things of which she knew nothing, as Luke was not communicative. She sometimes felt in an awkward position in consequence.
"What!" they would exclaim. "Did not the Vicar tell you?"
So now as Luke lay back enjoying the quiet and fully convinced that his wife, whom he loved as his own soul, was equally enjoying it, Rachel sat looking away from him feeling miserable and lonely, conscious that Luke had not found her the helpmeet he had expected her to be. She was feeling it all so much that she knew if the subject was again touched upon she would burst into tears, and cause her husband surprise and worry; so when she had successfully controlled her feelings she turned the conversation to the beauty of the trees. She felt it almost difficult to think of anything to talk about that would interest him, as he had just told her that his work was his life, and she was debarred from taking any part in it.
But Luke, quite unconscious of the sad thoughts of his wife, enthusiastically agreed in her admiration of the trees and began reciting a poem on the subject, thus giving Rachel time to try to get over her sore feelings; before the poem was finished she was able to turn and smile upon him.
"I never indulged in these holidays before I married," he said laughing, "consequently I revel in them with you beside me. You can't think Rachel what it is to come home and find you always there. It is a little heaven on earth. Don't say again that you are outside my life or don't help me. It just makes all the difference to me and to my work. Do you know that sometimes in the very midst of it I suddenly think of you and thank God for giving you to me."
Rachel flushed with happiness. If this really was so, and Luke was not one to flatter, perhaps her longing to be near him in the battle with evil and sin in the belief that she could help him, was a mistake. She was more of a help to him, apparently, in seeing to his house and welcoming him back from his work than if she was actually fighting, as it were, by his side.
Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted by Luke saying, as he had said on that moonlight night at Southwold, which seemed now so long ago: