“I heard you, Betty. I had a dingy little studio up three flights of stairs in Paris, and I sat there painting one day––and I heard you. I had sent a picture to the Salon, and was waiting in suspense to know the result, and I heard your call––”
“Was––was––that what made you come home––or––or was it because you knew you ought to?” She lifted her head and looked straight into his eyes.
Richard laughed. “It’s the same little Betty! The same Betty with the same conscience bigger than her head––almost bigger than her heart. I can’t tell you what it was. I heard it again and again, and the last time I just packed my things and wound up matters there––I had made a success, Betty, dear––let me say that. It makes me feel just a little bit more worth your while. I thought to make a success would be sweet, but it was all worthless––I’ll tell you all about it later––but it was no help and I just followed the call and returned, hurrying as if I knew all about the thing that was going on, when really I knew nothing. Sometimes I thought it was you calling me, and sometimes I thought it was my own conscience, and sometimes I thought it was only that I could no longer bear my own thoughts––See here, Betty, darling––don’t––don’t ever kill any one, for the thought that you have committed a murder is an awful thing to carry about with you.”
She laughed and hid her face again on his breast. 502 “Richard, how can we laugh––when it has all been so horrible?”
“We can’t, Betty––we’re crying.” She looked up at him again, and surely his eyes were filled with tears. She put up her hand and lightly touched his lips with her fingers.
“I know. I know you’ve suffered, Richard. I see the lines of sorrow here about your mouth––even when you smile. I saw the same in Peter Junior’s face, and it was so sad––I just hugged him, I was so glad it was he––I––I––hugged him and kissed him––”
“Bless his heart! Somebody ought to.”
“Somebody will. She’s beautiful––and so––fascinating! Let’s go in so you can meet her.”
“I have met her, and father has told me a great deal about her. I’ve had a fine talk with my father. How wonderful that Peter should have been the means of finding my father for me––and such a splendid father! I often used to think out what kind of a father I would like if I could choose one, but I never thought out just such a combination of delightful qualities as I find in him.”
“It’s like a story, isn’t it? And we’ll all live happily ever after. Shall we go in and see the rest, Richard? They’ll be wanting to see you too.”