"And is this love that you now feel, like the first?"
"No." She shook her head, her face saddening sweetly. "No. I adored Sargent Everett. It was worship. A girl only has that experience once in life; fortunately it came to me early and I outgrew it. But I remember it painfully well. It is the sort of feeling that one must have who bows down and worships a god, and sees that god returning his affection—can there be any sensation more wonderful! And all the incidents of our association naturally added a picturesqueness that impressed my childish imagination, coloured it, and made his image sink very deep upon mv mind. This morning when I went out to the old bench under the magnolias where he and I used to sit, I actually felt a return of my old love for him. I actually forgot Morgan for the moment!" She ended with a happy laugh.
"Tell me then," Judge Houston asked after a pause. "How does this other love differ from the first?"
She clasped her hands in her lap and leaned back against the sofa, her eyes half closed in meditation. Finally, with a graceful movement, she put out her hand and drew the old man's into hers.
"My love for Morgan," she began slowly. "How can I ever describe it! It did not come to me suddenly—it was more the outgrowth of association—a drifting into it without realization. Is it not always that way?" She lifted her face towards the old man intently, and found him looking down at her with a sad expression that she did not understand.
"You say you found it that way?"
"Yes, Uncle Felix," Natalia answered gayly. "Now please don't upbraid me for not falling in love at first sight. You know such things don't happen nowadays. I first met Morgan at the boarding school where Mamma Brandon sent me. Millicent was there with me at the time, and through our friendship I began to hear stories of her beautiful brother whom she described as the acme of all that was handsome and brave and wonderful. You must remember we were only twelve then. It is rather a strange thing, now, as things have eventuated, that I used to answer all her descriptions of Morgan with effusions about Sargent Everett. Then I met him. You can see the impression he would be likely to make upon a lonely little school-girl away from the few people who had ever loved her. Naturally the absent scene faded as the years passed, and I found myself living only in the world about me—a world filled with all the interests of the school and my broadening education, and made a place of enchantment to me by the kindness and affection of Morgan's family. They made me one of them. And when the day of real freedom came, when I left school to enter the world, with the enormous accretions from my plantations which you and Mamma Brandon had so skilfully managed for me—everything was perfect. Ah, it was beautiful! That first year of my real life. I can remember exactly my sensations the night I made my debut. We went to the opera first to hear Jenny Lind sing, and afterwards there was a big ball. I carried a beautiful bouquet of lilies of the valley—oh, Uncle Felix, it was gorgeous! That was two years ago. Since then, you know how I have travelled, how I spent a year in Europe, losing myself in the shadows of all that historic past, all that overpowering procession of events that has left its monuments for us to wonder over.... Those were carefree days, happy and thoughtless, with no suspicion of a to-morrow, and in them, with me—for long periods of travel—was Morgan—always faithful, always attentive, always an ideal lover. I never thought of marrying him then—at least never seriously, until I came back from Europe, and found that the same things that filled my life before amused me no longer. I was tired of playing, Uncle Felix, I had played too much. Something within called me to the great problems of life—I felt that I wanted to be in touch with people whose lives were amounting to something, who were doing good in the world and helping others. I seemed to realize then, for the first time, that I was drifting along in a happiness that would bring me nothing in the future, and I saw myself in my old age, when my youth and freshness and beauty were all gone, as a little child, without any one dependent upon me for their happiness. I think it was that, Uncle Felix," and she drew his hand gently to her cheek, "that opened my eyes to Morgan's love. He was there, waiting to give me a protection and haven from that awful lonely future. And I thought of you and Aunt Maria growing old together so beautifully, and I know now, Uncle Felix, that Morgan and I shall do the same.... When I have a child, Uncle Felix, think how everything that has gone before will be as nothing! When I have one that is mine, a part of me—that is what will make my life divine!" Suddenly she put her hands up to his face and kissed him. "Forgive me! Forgive me! I did not mean to wound you. I did not mean to thrust my happiness at you—so."
There were tears in the old man's eyes as she talked on, lost in her own narration, and when she looked up at him again, they were streaming down his cheeks, she rose from the stool and slipped on to the sofa beside him, pulling his arm around her waist, so that her face lay close against his, with the silence deepening between them.
"Uncle Felix," she began again, after having risen and carefully snuffed the candles on the mantel. "I have never told any one what I have told you to-night; indeed, there was no one to tell—not even Morgan. It was my thought of you and this dear old place that made me wish to solemnize my marriage here. It may be the last time I shall ever be here, at least for many, many years; yet now that I have come back, and all the past has rushed over me with all its old charm and fascination—I feel that I should like to remain here always. There is something so protected and safe here—an aloofness from the world that would save one from almost every suffering. But of course it is impossible." She stirred restlessly. "Already Morgan is growing impatient, and wants to get back to the rush and stir of a city." She rose and with both hands pulled the old gentleman up after her. "Let's go back to the others now. But first—I may never have the chance to speak to you of it again—tell Sargent Everett of my deep affection for him still—tell him that I shall always be grateful for his having made me a very happy little girl, and that the only thing that marred my happiness on my wedding day was his absence. Now, let's go back to Morgan."
CHAPTER VI