“I? I shall repent it every day—every hour—of my existence.” It was the bitter cry of the man who sees every interest and every pleasure in life snatched from him in a moment. “I am a useless, brainless log, and you force me to live.”
“Dearest, there is still so much that you can do.” The woman’s unselfishness led her to try to comfort him in his own way, instead of resenting the little value he set upon her love. “You never even discovered your loss until a very momentous crisis arose. If Philippa marries Michael, you can return to Thracia, and become Premier again.”
“Are you trying to tempt me to sacrifice poor Phil? Don’t you see that I could never go back to office as a humdrum, routine, red-tape Minister, incapable of effecting combinations or making bold strokes? I could not face a horrible monotony of that sort.”
“Then we will settle down in England, near——”
“And add another specimen to the British collection of political failures from the Continent? Hear myself continually pointed out as an awful warning of the dangers of leaving the beaten track? Never!”
“Well, then, we will go back to Sitt Zeynab. You shall reign there in peace, and no one can come near you against your will. Wherever you are, there I shall be happy.”
“My poor Ernestine, I am not worth it. You had better let me die, dear.” His eyes sought the pistol longingly. “I am a miserable, broken wretch, with no hope and no contentment left, and I shall lead you a terrible life.”
“No life with you could be terrible to me. To be near you is joy enough. It was not your success I loved, it was you, and you are the same still. I love you, Cyril, I love you.”
The passion of the tone, the eyes shining into his, the trembling hands laid upon his shoulders, stirred Cyril with a stronger emotion than he had ever known, and words came to his lips,—echoes, perhaps, of others heard long before in his childhood—he knew not how or whence.
“God do so to me and more also, Ernestine, if I ever forget what you have done for me to-night. Dearest, you understand. Some women would have upbraided me for despising their love, but you are not like that. And you will have your reward. Politics will never again separate me from you, at any rate.” He kissed her gently on the forehead, and wrapped her cloak round her. “You must go back, dear, or you will be missed. A curious little interlude in the evening’s entertainment, isn’t it? Well, your coming here has saved me, such as I am.”