"He's always in a terrible temper though," said Martin."He mutters to himself--and he eats nothing.His room is next to mine, and he walked up and down all night talking.I don't know how he keeps alive."Perhaps Aunt Anne thought Martin's tone irreverent.She relapsed into herself and seemed suddenly, with a spiritual wave of the hand, to have dismissed the whole company.
Martin took his leave.He barely touched Maggie's hand, but his eyes leapt upon hers with all the fire of a greeting too long delayed.
His lips did not move, but she heard the whisper "Soon!" Then he was gone.
Soon! She felt as though she could not wait another instant but must immediately run after him, follow him into the street, and make clear his plans both for himself and her.
Then, continuing her struggle of the long day, she beat into herself endurance; she was in a new world, in a world with roads and cities, mountains, rivers, seas and forests that had to be traversed by her, to be learnt and remembered and conquered, and for the success of this she must have her own spirit absolutely aloof and firm and brave.She loved him.That must be enough for her, and meanwhile she need not lose her common sense and vision of everyday life...But meanwhile it hurt.She was now twice as lonely as she had been before because she did not know what he intended to do, and always with her now there was something strange and unknown that might at any moment be stronger than she.
But by next morning she had conquered herself.She would see him at Chapel that night and perhaps have a word with him, and so already she had arrived at her now lover's calendar of dates and seasons.
There was the time before she would see him and the time after--no other time than that.
The trouble that weighed upon her most heavily was her deceitfulness to the aunts.Fifty times that day she was on the edge of speaking and telling them all, but she was held back by the vagueness of her relations to Martin.Were they engaged? Did he even love her? He had only kissed her.He had said nothing.No, she must wait, but with this definite sense of her wickedness weighing upon her--not wickedness to herself, for that she cared nothing, but wickedness to them--she tried, on this day, to be a pattern member of the household, going softly everywhere that she was told, closing doors behind her, being punctual and careful.Unhappily it was a day of misfortune, it was one of Aunt Anne's more worldly hours and she thought that she would spend it in training Maggie.Very good--but Maggie dropped a glass into which flowers were to have been put, she shook her pen when she was addressing some envelopes so that some drops of ink were scattered upon the carpet, and, in her haste to be punctual, she banged her bedroom door so loudly that Aunt Anne was waked from her afternoon nap.
A scene followed.Aunt Anne showed herself very human, like any other aunt justly exasperated by any other niece.
"I sometimes despair of you, Maggie.You will not think of others.Idon't wish to be hard or unjust, but selfishness is the name of your greatest weakness."Maggie, standing with her hands behind her, a spot of ink on her nose and her short hair ruffled, was hard and unrepentant.
"You must send me away," she said; "I'm not a success here.You don't like me."Aunt Anne looked at Maggie with eyes that were clear and cold like deep unfriendly waters."You mustn't say that.We love you, but you have very much to learn.To-night I shall speak to Miss Avies and arrange that you go to have a talk with her sometimes.She is a wise woman who knows many things.My sister and I are not strong enough to deal with you, and we are weakened perhaps by our love for you.""I don't want to go to-night," Maggie said, then she burst out: "Oh, can't I lead an ordinary life like other girls--be free and find things out for myself, not only go by what older people tell me--earn my living and be free? I've never lived an ordinary life.Life with Father wasn't fair, and now--"Aunt Anne put out her arm and drew her towards her."Poor Maggie...Aren't you unfair to us? Do you suppose really that we don't love you? Do you think that I don't understand? You shall be free, afterwards, if you wish--perfectly free--but you must have the opportunity of learning what this life is first, what the love of God is, what the companionship of Him is.If after you have seen you still reject it, we will not try to keep you.But it is God's will that you stay with us for a time.""How do you know that it is God's will?" asked Maggie, melted nevertheless, as she always was by any sign of affection.
"He has told me," Aunt Anne answered, and then closed her eyes.
Maggie went away with a sensation of being tracked by some stealthy mysterious force that was creeping ever closer and closer upon her, that she could only feel but not see.For instance, she might have said that she would not go to Chapel to-night, and she might have taken her stand upon that.And yet she could not say that.Of course she must go because she must see Martin, but even if she had known that he would not be there she would have gone.Was it curiosity?
Was it reminiscence? Was it superstition? Was it cowardice? Was it loneliness? All these things, perhaps, and yet something more than they...
All through the afternoon of the lovely November day she anticipated that evening's services as though it were in some way to be a climax.She knew that it was to be for all of them an especial affair.She had heard during the last days much discussion of old Mr.Crashaw.He was an old man with, apparently, a wonderful history of conversions behind him.His conversions had been, it seemed, of the forcible kind, seizing people by the neck and shoving them in;he was a fierce and militant kind of saint; he believed, it seemed, in damnation and eternal hell fire, and could make you believe in them too; his accent was on the tortures rather than the triumphs of religion.
