But these blessings, alas, had not been granted Ellen. Perhaps it had been her own fault. She may deliberately have thrust the gentle visitant, Love, from her dwelling, and once repulsed he may never have sought again for entrance.
Or it might be the woman was one at whose door the god had never knocked. Oh, the pity of it!
For after all did life hold any gift so rare, so supreme, as the perfect devotion of a man and woman who loved one another. It must 198 be a wonderful thing, that divine miracle of Love.
Dreamily Lucy’s gaze wandered off to the sunny fields, and with solemn realization it came to her that should Ellen die, they and all the Webster lands would be hers, to do with as she pleased. There were so many things she had been powerless to get her aunt to do. The house needed repairs if it were to be preserved for coming generations: certain patches of soil had been worked too long and should be allowed to lie fallow; there were scores of other improvements she would like to see carried out. Now she would be free to better the property as she saw fit. She would talk with Martin Howe about it. He was brimming with all the latest farming methods. She would get him to buy her a cultivator such as he used in his own garden, and a wheel-hoe. He could advise her, too, about plowing buckwheat into the soil. And Martin would know what to do about shingling the barn and cementing the cellar.
In fact, it was amazing to discover how inseparable Martin seemed to be from her plans. He was so strong, so wise, just the type of man a woman could depend upon for sympathy and 199 guidance. Absently she twisted the ring on her finger.
Her mind had traveled to the events of the morning, to his battle with himself and final victory. How appealing had been his surrender! The stern personality had melted into a tenderness as winning as a child’s.
If he loved a woman and she loved him—— She started guiltily to find Ellen staring at her with vague, troubled eyes.
“Where—where—am—I—?” asked the woman in a weak, quavering voice.
“Upstairs in your own room, Aunt Ellen,” replied Lucy gently.
“How’d I come here?”