“I know about the boys entraining to-night. Gordon has been here this evening. I—know!”
Mrs. Theddon dropped off her hat, her furs, her coat. The daughter, woman—grown though she was, came into her arms. Together they sank to the divan, the daughter a distraught little girl, sobbing upon her mother’s lap.
“He asked me to be his wife for the last time to-night, mother mine. He brought me a—diamond.”
“Madelaine! Are you engaged to marry him?”
“I couldn’t, mother-mine! I couldn’t! I couldn’t! I love Gordon. But somehow it’s the great love of a sister for a brother. Oh, mother-mine, what’s the matter with me? What is it? What is it?”
What could Mrs. Theddon say?
“I feel that I’ve so much to offer, mother-mine, so much to give! And I want my heart to leap as I give it. I want to look into his face—his eyes—and read there the great, sweet mystery that we were made for each other from the first. I want the world to fade out as he takes me. I want to abandon myself in his tenderness. I want to lose all that I am, or ever may be, in the depths of his love which I know in that one great Moment I’m meeting gloriously. I want Romance—mother-mine! And I want it to bear me up and away to a Palace where the eastern sunrise lies always radiant upon its towers. And I haven’t found it, mother-mine. I’ve only found a sweet, deep friendship that makes me feel that the real essence of womanhood is passing me by!”
“Madelaine! Madelaine! You tear my heart when you talk so!”
“I want a man who’s been through more than Gordon has—whose fight has cost him more—who’s been true to himself in spite of everything! I want a man who’s gone through dark shadows and black fog—and never once lost faith that somewhere above the sun was shining brightly. I want to work with him, play with him, laugh with him, love with him. I want him to draw upon me, to feed upon me, body as well as brain—to leave me stronger than ever for the things I may give him. I want to be his workmate, his playmate, his hunt-mate, his home-mate! I want to be his partner, his mother, his sister, his mistress—everything, everything, everything! I want to feel that he’s the other half of myself, for whom I’ve hunted a dreary time and found at last—and know that all the world is wonderful and God is good. And I haven’t found that man yet, mother-mine. I’ve never met him yet. And I want to meet him so. I’m cruelly lonely without him. I’ve suffered that loneliness a hideous time. Where is he, mother-mine? Tell me where he is, that I can go to him quickly? Wherever he is, he wants me—he needs me! Right at this moment he’s hungry for me, too!”
“Hush, dear! Don’t feel so badly! You’ll meet him yet. I know you’ll meet him yet. God is good! He wouldn’t permit it otherwise.”