"Ever since I can remember," said Garth. "And the door between was always open. After my mother's death, I kept it locked. But the night before my birthday, I used to open it; and when I woke early and saw it ajar, I would spring up, and go quickly in; and it seemed as if her dear presence was there to greet me, just on that one morning. But I had to go quickly, and immediately I wakened; just as you must go out early to catch the rosy glow of sunrise on the fleeting clouds; or to see the gossamer webs on the gorse, outlined in diamonds, by the sparkling summer dew. But, somehow, Margery found out about it; and the third year there was a sheet of writing-paper firmly stuck to the pincushion by a large black-headed pin, saying, in Margery's careful caligraphy: 'Many happy returns of the day, Master Garthie.' It was very touching, because it was meant to be so comforting and tactful. But it destroyed the illusion! Since then the door has been kept closed."
Another long sweet silence. Two nightingales, in distant trees, sang alternately; answering one another in liquid streams of melody.
Again Garth turned the wedding ring; then spoke, with his lips against it.
"You said Margery had 'gone through.' Is it open to-night?" he asked.
Jane clasped both hands behind his head—strong, capable hands, though now they trembled a little—and pressed his face against her, as she had done on the terrace at Shenstone, three years before.
"Yes, my own boy," she said; "it is."
"Jane! Oh, Jane—" He released himself from the pressure of those restraining hands, and lifted his adoring face to hers.
Then, suddenly, Jane broke down. "Ah, darling," she said, "take me away from this horrible white moonlight! I cannot bear it. It reminds me of Shenstone. It reminds me of the wrong I did you. It seems a separating thing between you and me—this cruel brightness which you cannot share."
Her tears fell on his upturned fate.
Then Garth sprang to his feet. The sense of manhood and mastery; the right of control, the joy of possession, arose within him. Even in his blindness, he was the stronger. Even in his helplessness, for the great essentials, Jane must lean on him. He raised her gently, put his arms about her, and stood there, glorified by his great love.