Surely if he never learnt this—her one and only secret—it would be impotent as if it had no existence? And never would it be revealed to him by outside agency; at least, so far as human foresight could discern. Who among those who had known the truth in those bygone years was in the least likely to again cross her path? Not a single individual. Surely it would be well for Geoffrey to be so far deceived—to be tricked, and, if necessary, lied to on this one point? Would not his ultimate greatest happiness be thereby ensured? Since he wished her for his wife, should he not have his will? Looking to her unhesitatingly for all the good and true, the pure and beauteous in womanhood—was he to be disillusioned?
Long and earnestly she reflected, endeavouring to weigh impartially and fairly every argument favouring confession. If Geoffrey could know, would he deem this secrecy to be her crowning blemish—the greatest, most personal and unforgivable wrong of all? Not if he could read her heart, and judge by her motives. Her own welfare was indeed not first in her mind. The shielding of his happiness was verily her chief thought. Alas, that deception should be necessary for its preservation—yet surely this was so? Alas! alas!
At length the final doubt ceased to clamour. The decision had been protracted and difficult. It left her lovely face somewhat drawn and pale; but in her soft, eloquent eyes gleamed a light almost superhuman in its intensity of love and desperate resolution.
"What would I not do, dare, defy for your sake, my best and dearest?" she murmured aloud. "Never, while I have strength and power to ward it off, will I bring grief and suffering and agony of mind into your life. Never!"
CHAPTER XXXI
JOURNEYS END IN LOVERS' MEETINGS
Next morning came another little note from Geoffrey. He would arrive in London at noon that day. When and where could they meet? Would she come to the studio as soon as her day's work was over? Might he come to see her, or should they meet out-of-doors somewhere? Anything she decided—though she was implored not to put him off until to-morrow. Would she please telegraph?
Evarne looked across the breakfast table.
"Philia, in what costume do I look nicest of all?"