The three had seated themselves in the sweet spring sunlight at indolent ease after a long ramble about the magnificently kept grounds of the Arms. Under their feet the young green grass wove a soft living carpet. Over their heads spread the iron-strong branches of a mammoth tulip tree.
“Just because I am so happy, every once in a while I think of Mr. Brooke, Miss Susanna. Then I grow sad for a little. How beautiful it would have been for Angela and him to live here year after year in the perfect happiness of love! I often wonder how he had the courage to go through so many weary years after she left him. He chose such a patient, brave-hearted way.”
“Perhaps he accomplished more of good because of such a sorrow than he might have wrought without it,” sighed Miss Hamilton. “From the time of Angela’s death he centered himself more than ever on the founding of Hamilton College. It might well be called a monument to the two women he loved. The nobility of plan and execution were inspired by his mother. But the beauty of nature which he cultivated and carried out with such rare taste and sentiment on the campus is his tribute to Angela. Day after day, early and late, he busied himself with enhancing the beauty of that overgrown grass plot. Perhaps his spirit communed with hers as he worked. This was before my time. You will find a packet of what he named, ‘My garden letters,’ among the data. If you haven’t already been over it, you have a joy in store for you.”
Miss Susanna stared absently out over the sea of living green splashed with the pale pinks, yellows and scarlets of early blooming shrubs. Mrs. Dean had taken no part in the conversation, preferring to listen. Marjorie’s wistful observation regarding Brooke Hamilton and Angela Vernon had raised a feeling of surprise in her mind. It was the most sentimental word she had ever heard Marjorie utter.
Since her arrival at the Arms she had been permitted by Miss Hamilton to read the journal over which she had heard the Lady of the Arms and her lieutenant have several long discussions. Jerry had also been permitted to read it. She had at first cried over it, then impatiently characterized stately Brooke Hamilton as a “lovable old stupid” for not “getting it across” first thing that Angela was in love with him.
“I have a perfectly celostrous idea, children.” Marjorie thus gaily designated the two beside her. “It came out of what you just said of Mr. Brooke and the campus.” She lightly clasped Miss Susanna’s arm. “I’ll put Mr. Brooke’s love idyl in ‘Realization,’ together with his nature work on the campus. That will do away with having to write of how he made Angela unhappy for so many years because he didn’t know he loved her. I will state only that they met first when very young, and without knowing their own hearts. I think I will keep the entry about her riding down to the station with the picture to say good-bye to him.” Marjorie turned to Miss Susanna, her eyes questioning.
“You are to do as you please, Marvelous Manager.” Miss Susanna smiled into the beautiful, colorful face so near her own. “If you wished to publish the journal verbatim, I’d not gainsay you.”
“I know you wouldn’t, Goldendede.” Marjorie returned the smile with interest. “I don’t wish him to be misunderstood. He was not intentionally selfish. He was simply wrapped in his own great dream. The world, were it to read that journal, might call him hard-hearted. Even he reproached himself after he found that he loved Angela. I will leave out anything that I should not care to say of him myself. I pledged friendship with him in the beginning, you remember.”
“I am glad you feel as I do about his love affair.” Miss Susanna said with a grateful little nod. “I have always thought mention of it, at least, important in a biography of him. I was not sure what to do. I had thought, at the time when I talked with President Burns of having it prepared for publication, of submitting only a brief paragraph or two about Angela Vernon. I leave the matter contentedly to you.”
“That’s enough to bring back my lost inspiration,” was the blithe declaration. “Come on, both of you.” Marjorie sprang to her feet. She stretched an inviting hand to both her mother and Miss Susanna. “I shall proceed to hustle you about the rest of the grounds before luncheon. I’m going to the study to work this afternoon. Don’t dare lock it up.” She laid energetic command upon Miss Hamilton.