“To be first with the man I love. I am first, am I not?”
“Don’t you know? Need you ask? If—if I ever had the chance, my one aim would be to make you happy, because—a man is always selfish, you see—that would make me happy.”
“And that knowledge does make me happy. You and I belong to one another, just as much as if we were married, wherever we are, whatever we may do.” Then she gave a little laugh of contentment, and threw out her arms to the countryside, so green and smiling all around them. “This afternoon you and I, Colin, are on the top of the hill. We’ve climbed away from the stuffy, humdrum houses in the valleys. To-day we can shout and sing and be glad! Do you know, I seem to hear that Sullivan madrigal ringing in my ears, ‘All creation seems to say, earth was made for man’s delight’—do you remember? I am so happy, so happy. But it won’t always be as easy as it is this afternoon. We’re of the earth, earthy. At least, I am very earthy sometimes.”
“My darling,” he cried, passionately, more moved than he had ever been in his life, “you are the most wonderful woman in the world!”
“Dearest, shall I tell you a secret in the greatest of confidence? You won’t tell anyone? I’m not. I like to think you think so, but I’m the most ‘ornery’ person, really. I shan’t remain on the hill-top. I shall sigh and groan and grunt inwardly, and—I shall want you just as much as you’ll want me.... I should hate to think you were too placid without me, I should hate to see serene, ethereal content in your eyes.... But if you know I’m feeling just as you are feeling, but, like you, resolutely sitting on those feelings, it makes it easier, doesn’t it? Sexless, unemotional people never helped anyone. And because we look things in the face we won’t be afraid to meet as friends; we won’t run away from our happiness and—our pain; we won’t fret because of a mistake that we can’t alter, will we? We’ll just make the best of what we have, shall we?”
“Everything shall always be exactly as you wish,” he said, raising her hands to his lips. For a moment she wished that he would take her in his arms and kiss her, just once. Then she knew that he was right. Things in the future would be hard enough without that memory. For this was no sudden rush of passion that she felt, so that she longed to have his arms close round her. This man, standing on the hill-top with her, was her mate, her man, and naturally all that she had or was was his, by Nature’s unalterable laws. If she could have then and there gone away with him, there would have been no hesitation, no fear, no breathlessness, only a joyous and calm acceptance of the beauty that such mating would hold for them.
After a while he said, “I shall go back to Manchester to-morrow, but at any time you send me the word ‘Come,’ I shall be with you by the next train. If you feel you want to talk to me, if you are in any difficulty, you won’t hesitate to send for me?”
“No.”
When they arrived back at Wynnstay they found only stewed tea, an empty cake-dish, Patricia and an unrepentant cheerful Socrates under the trees.