Jack was conscious only of a general regret that he could not claim his bride before the world, but Sylvia saw in a flash the impossibility of frequent meetings, the minute chance of tête-à-têtes, the quicksands in the shape of misunderstandings, which must needs attend so unnatural a position. On the other hand, she honoured Jack the more for his loyalty to his home duties, and agreed with the wisdom of his decision.
“Yes, Jack, I do. I’d like to wait. I love Bridgie with all my heart, and could not bear her to suffer through me. It shall be exactly as you think best for them in every way.”
Jack bent and kissed her, even more tenderly than before.
“My little helpmeet!” he said, and Sylvia found her best reward in the sound of that word, and the knowledge that she was strengthening him in the right path. Surely it was the best guarantee for the happiness of their new relationship, that it was inaugurated in a spirit of self-sacrifice and care for others.
Chapter Twenty Six.
Reminiscences.
Bridgie was not waiting at the station. “She heard me saying that I might be here myself, and maybe remembered that two are company,” said Jack, with a laugh.
But when Rutland Road was reached someone stood waiting to open the door of the cab and welcome the wanderer in the sweetest tones of a sweet contralto voice. She said only a few words, but with true Irish tact chose just the ones which were most comforting under the circumstances.