Instinctively Maurice stood aside as she swept past him, her head unbowed, splendid even in her moment of surrender—almost, it seemed, unbeaten to the last.
For a moment there was a silence—palpitant, packed with conflicting emotion.
Then, with a little choking sob, Sara ran across the room to Maurice and caught his hands in hers, smiling whilst the tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Oh, my dear!” she cried brokenly. “Oh, my dear!”
CHAPTER XXXIX
HARVEST
“There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live
as before;
The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound;
What was good, shall be good, with, for evil,
So much good more . . .”
BROWNING.
“How can you prove it, Garth—Maurice, I mean?”—Selwyn corrected himself with a smile. “You'll need more than Mrs. Durward's confession to secure official reinstatement by the powers that be.”
The clamour of joyful excitement and wonder and congratulation had spent itself at last, the Lavender Lady had shed a few legitimate tears, and now Selwyn voiced the more serious aspect of the matter.
It was Herrick who made answer.