“Glory!”
“John!”
“For God's sake! Glory!”
With a wild shout of joy he rushed upon her, flung his arms about her, and covered her face and hands with kisses. After a moment he whispered, “Not here, not here!” and she felt too that the room was suffocating them, and they must go out into the open air, the fields, the park.
Somebody was knocking at the door. It was Mrs. Pincher. A man was waiting to speak to the Father. They found him in the lane. It was Jupe, the waiter. His simple face wore a strange expression of joy and fear, as if he wished to smile and dare not.
“My pore missis 'as got off and wants to come 'ome, sir, and I thought as you'd tell me what I oughter do.”
“Take her back and forgive her, my man, that's the Christian course.”
His love was now boundless; his large charity embraced everything, and going off he saluted everybody. “Good-evening, Mrs. Pincher.—Good-night, Lydia.”
“Well, 'e is a Father, too, and no mistake!” somebody was saying behind him as he went away with Glory.
The moon was at the full, and while they were passing through the streets it struggled with the gas from the shop windows as the flame of a fire struggles with the sunshine, but when they passed under the trees it shone out in its white splendour like a bride. The immeasurable vault above was silvered with stars, too, through depth on depth of space, and all the glorious earth and heaven seemed to smile the smile of love. A strong south breeze was blowing, and as it shook the trees of the park, that blessed patch of Nature in the midst-of the toiling city seemed to sing the song of love!