The golden hours went by, and nothing came to disturb them in their solitude until the evening light, a most gentle messenger, stole through the blossoms in a rosy glow, warning them that they must part.
Everest rose after one last strenuous passionate embrace, and as she saw him standing above her, his brilliant face flushed and smiling, his dark eyes kindling with elation, she felt that this life had given her her due, if it gave no more. When he had gone she lay still for a little while longer in the shadow.
"I was right to refuse to marry him. I am sure I was right. If he loves me he will still wish it. If not, it is I who will suffer, not he, and he will know—he must know now—that I only care about him, that I would die for his happiness," she thought vaguely, mistily, for she was tired and would have liked to stay there, half waking, half dreaming of him.
It was with a great effort that she got up a little later and walked slowly back to the Rectory.
With dressing for dinner and appearing reasonably conversational at the meal, Everest had not much time for quiet thought until late that night when he was going to bed. Then, as his mind reverted to the afternoon, the stupendous unselfishness of Regina's attitude came before him. If a girl refused such a marriage with a man to whom she was indifferent, the refusal would be remarkable for its negation of so much worldly good; but for one filled with intense and passionate desire for the man who offered it, such a refusal must need the most heroic courage, the greatest steadfastness of purpose, the highest fortitude, the acme of devotion. He sat in his room, absorbed in the contemplation of it, unable to go to bed, unable to sleep, feeling compelled to study this new light on a woman's love.
It was worth while conquering and winning and possessing a woman like that. All his blood glowed within him as he thought of the greatness of that character, the largeness and the splendour of that soul that had yielded to his influence, that had submitted so unquestioningly to him. He had been accustomed to view women somewhat as soft and pretty kittens, liable to scratch and bite sometimes in their little tempers, but, on the whole, caressable and lovable, charming to indulge and to fondle; but he had often thought vaguely how differently he could feel for another type, how glad he would be if a wild lioness, full of her splendid strength and mettle and independence, sprang across his path and became gentle and tame to him. Caressing a lioness he would like much better than stroking a kitten. And this now had actually happened! He knew that in Regina, under her soft and beautiful exterior, lay just those same wild, brave impulses, that contempt for the dangers of life, that enthusiasm for great things and emotions that burned within himself. The realisation that now he had made this soul his own, that, grand though it was, it now virtually knew no law except his will and his pleasure, seemed to send waves of fire through his whole being.
When he at last went to bed that night, it was only to dream of her as she had stood crowned with ruddy light in the garden.
The golden days of June slipped by swiftly, silently, vanishing into the past like radiant dreams, and while the rest of the household, in the sleepy, creeper-covered Rectory, led their ordinary, bovine existence of feeding and sleeping, varied by their unbovine petty quarrelling, these two at least lived a life of which every hour flew off to Eternity on gilded, flame-coloured wings. When two such deep and strong natures as Everest's and Regina's come together and mingle, the education to each, the interchange and interplay of emotion and feeling are very great. And as each lovely day of sunshine, or gentle silver rain, or turbulent grey cloud wrought imperceptible changes in the nature round them, added different notes to the nightingales' songs, unclosed new roses and ripened fresh blossom on the lime and chestnuts, ardently leading onward and upward to the glorious perfection of midsummer, so did each day work mysteriously and enchantingly on the passion and intimacy of these two, unfolding fresh impulses, new thoughts, striking hidden chords, unveiling deep recesses.
This period for them was different in its gentle and subtle teaching, in its gradual drawing away of the sacred veil that floats before the face of passion, from the conventional honeymoon with its abrupt and violent candour, its sudden wrenching down of all the delicate curtains of mystery, of idealism, of poetical fancy which fall round the shrine of love. In a honeymoon the two lovers are flung suddenly into incessant contact, absolute isolation with each other, from which they cannot escape, as one might push a couple of prisoners into a cell. Every obstacle, every bar between them that has till now raised their passion to divine heights is removed. Every duty, every work from which either has been accustomed to receive moral stimulus and support, is laid aside, every diversion, every amusement and occupation taken away. Night and day, without change, without rest, they are thrust into each other's arms. Is it surprising that when the moon is past so few have anything but utter satiety to show for it?—that the wonderful flame of love that lives on excitement, danger, privation, romance, difficulties, should for ever be quenched and put out?—leaving the travellers to wander on down the narrow lane of marriage without its sparkling, radiant light to guide them in its dark places.
Everest and Regina could never meet except by the overcoming of difficulties, by planning, by suffering, between periods of eager waiting, and when they met the parting was never far off, the possibility of discovery, of interruption always present. So the wild pleasure of their first embrace lived in all the others, and their passion for each other increased, as a fire blazes all the more fiercely for a little water thrown on to it and other futile attempts to extinguish it. For the girl, life had suddenly turned into the mazes of a glorious dream. Her ordinary existence of hard work, of study, stood still. She mixed with the rest of the family and did such tasks and duties as were required of her, exactly as a well-regulated machine would have done, her real life for herself began and ended only in the garden. She was glad that she had always spent so much time there, in solitude and away from the others: it made her absences from home now less noticeable.