“He’s right,” said Miss Mason. “I hadn’t seen things quite in that light. Also, I was afraid of having my judgment biassed by my desire to keep the child.”
Curiously enough throughout the conversation neither Miss Mason nor Barnabas had spoken of Pippa by name. Instinctively they both felt that to do so would be to suggest an intimacy to which Sybil was not entitled.
Sybil looked at the floor for a few moments without speaking. Then she raised her head.
“Very well,” she said, “I will not tell Luke. He may come to see you, Mr. Kirby. If he does please don’t tell him of my visit here. But of course you won’t. And,” she went on, with a little pleading note in her voice, “please, you two, don’t despise me more than you can help. Some people seem born strong and not afraid. I’ve always been a coward. I think perhaps if my father and mother had been a little more lenient with me when I was a child it would have been different. But I was timid, and dreaded being shut up in the dark. So I used to fib to get out of punishment. And after a time I thought nothing of not speaking the truth to them. But I suppose you can’t understand that.”
“I can understand very well,” said Miss Mason. She had known the parents.
And Barnabas felt a sudden pity for the woman, who in spite of her thirty-two years looked little more than a girl. She was of the fragile flower-like beauty that would no doubt appeal to a man of the strength of Kostolitz. At the moment Barnabas himself would have protected her rather than have blamed her.
All at once Sybil spoke timidly. “Where is she?” she asked, nodding towards the picture. “Could I see her for a moment?”
Miss Mason hesitated, doubtful of the wisdom of the proceeding. “She’s out now,” she said.
Sybil gave a tiny sigh. “Well, perhaps it’s better not,” she said. “I’d have promised not to tell her. Of course, I don’t suppose anyone would trust me very easily who knew everything. But truly she shall never know about me. And I’ll never tell Luke either. I see that you are right. I owe it to him now to keep silence. I’ll try to make him very happy. And—and I’ll take wanting my little girl as a punishment. I know I deserve to lose her, and I see that it is impossible for me to have her and keep Luke’s confidence. I should quite spoil his life and his belief in every one. If only I had been brave long ago I might have had my little girl and Luke too. But I will keep my word now.” She said it all like a child promising to be good.
“I know you will, my dear,” said Miss Mason gently. She was desperately sorry for Sybil, and terribly grieved at the whole situation. Yet she too saw that silence was now the only possible thing for them all. And in the end it would be happier for Sybil too. Possibly she would always now wish for her child and regret her loss. But it would be a tender regret, though sad. And she would keep Luke’s love.