The manner in which our great ambitions in life meet their realisation is always and inevitably other than we have imagined. Sometimes so many years have passed by since the dreaming of the cherished plans, that the eager spirit is transformed into a wearied and dispirited being, to whom fulfilment brings no joy; sometimes it comes freighted with complications which rob it of half its zest; sometimes it brings no charm at all, but only bitterness and disappointment; and again—oh, often again, thank God for His mercies!—it comes at the moment of hopelessness, of renunciation, dazzling the eyes and heart with a very incredulity of joy.
Those few quiet words in an old woman’s voice transformed for Darsie Garnett the whole path ahead, making what had seemed a far-away vision become a solid, tangible fact. Quietly, prosaically, without any nourish of trumpets, the great prize of life had been handed into her grasp.
She sat motionless, staring with distended eyes, while Lady Hayes continued to speak in calm, even tones.
“I should like to explain to you, my dear, that I am not as rich a woman as I appear. It was my dear husband’s wish that I should continue to occupy this house for the term of my life, but after that it passes to his relations. It is an expensive place to keep up, and leaves little margin out of the income which goes with it. I cannot save as I should have wished, and my own property is not large. When it is divided among my various nephews and nieces, there will not be much for each. I should like to have done more for your father, as he has a large family to provide for, but it is impossible. In your case, however, you have done me a kindness in spending these weeks with me when I needed companionship—and, I think, we are good friends! I can spare a few hundreds to give you your training and your fun—and it will be a pleasure to me to do so. I will make a formal arrangement in my will so that in the case of my—so that in any case the money may be forthcoming. So, my dear, you may look upon the matter as settled, and make your arrangements accordingly.”
Darsie put her hands to her head. Her cheeks were white, but around her eyes and nose an increasing pinkness of hue betrayed the inward struggle of emotion.
“I’m going to cry! I’m going to cry!” she cried. And when Lady Hayes began a protest, “Oh, Aunt Maria, don’t, don’t be proper!” she pleaded piteously. “I can’t bear it just now. Please, please let me thank you in my own way! I must howl! I must! I’m all seething and churning with emotion, and if I don’t cry I shall burst; but oh, I do love you—I adore you—I shall worship you until my dying day... You’ll be like a saint to me. I’ll put you up on a pedestal and burn incense to you every day of my life. If you knew what it meant! And I’ve been so mean and hateful—such a contemptible little worm! Oh, if I lived a hundred thousand years, I could never repay you for this!”
“My dear, does it strike you that you are talking in a very wild, exaggerated fashion?”
“I am, I am! Girls do, Aunt Maria, when they are off their heads with joy. Wild, I mean, not exaggerated—I mean it, every word. Oh, I must hug you. Never mind your cap; I must give you a bear hug, if I die for it. Dear, dearest, kindest, best—”
The old lady’s stiff, upright figure disappeared bodily within the swooping arms; she was squeezed, hugged, rocked to and fro, and pelted with kisses until she was speechless and gasping for breath. When she was released her cap was askew, and the muslin folds in the front of her gown crumpled out of recognition; but for a marvel she spoke no word of reproach, and Darsie saw, with a sobering thrill, a glitter as of tears in the old eyes, and the mental question which arose at the sight was answered with intuitive sharpness. It was so long since she had been hugged before, so many, many years since anything more than a conventional peck had been pressed upon her cheek! Old, stern, proper as she was, Aunt Maria loved to be loved!
For the rest of the morning Darsie was as subdued and gentle in manner as she had hitherto been boisterous. The future was discussed in detail, and plans made which revolutionised more and more her future life, for Lady Hayes seemed to take for granted that in taking upon herself the responsibility for the girl’s education she had earned a certain right to her society. Such phrases as “And in the holiday-time we can discuss,” “When you are here in the summer vacation,” “I shall look forward to hearing your descriptions,” could not be misunderstood, but for the moment the big gain outweighed the loss, and Darsie smiled on unperturbed. In time to come the sacrifice of merry family holidays would of a certainty demand its toll of suffering, but why encourage trouble that lay ahead when the present was so blissfully full of contentment?