At this utterance the Archbishop closed his eyes in reprobation. Then, with a paternal air he regarded Elinor. “Dear lady, I have no desire to argue, or to persuade you against your wishes–or against the wishes of your friends. Pardon me if I have appeared insistent. I only ask that you will not forget that our Church is your Church–that in sorrow and in trouble, and at all times, her arms are open to you.”
Then addressing the Princess: “I am the bearer of a message from Jacques Lafenestre. 229The baggage is aboard, and the yacht can sail whenever your Highness is ready.”
With a ceremonious bow–ceremoniously returned by the group before him–his Grace strode slowly away toward the little path that led to the beach. The Princess also–after handing to Pats the key of the house–moved away in the direction of the two graves, promising the lovers another half hour for their parting visit to the cottage. She had gone but a few steps, however, when she stopped and wheeled about as if moved by a sudden thought.
“You know well the tapestry that screens the chamber. The scene in the Garden of Eden?”
Both nodded; and Pats exclaimed: “The most entertaining work of art I have ever seen!”
“I give it for my wedding present, so that Madame Pats may have a portrait of her husband as he appeared when first I met him.”
With a smile and a nod she turned away and the jaunty figure was soon lost among the trees.
Once more alone, Pats and Elinor turned and looked into each other’s eyes; and both discovered an overflowing happiness that choked all words–and all attempt at words.
230Pats opened his arms. As of old, she entered, and the familiar rite was observed.
The surrounding silence remained unbroken. But in the murmuring of the pines, in that floating music now dear to both, there came to the reunited lovers a subdued but universal rejoicing–felicitations from above.