She closed them in an envelope and addressed them. Then she rolled up the manuscript on the table and rang the bell. She gave it to the servant.
"Tell the boy to give this to his master, and say the article ends rather abruptly; they must state it is to be continued; I will finish it tomorrow.
As he passes No. 20 let him leave this note there."
The servant went out. She walked up and down with her hands folded above her head.
Two months after, the older woman stood before the fire. The door opened suddenly, and the younger woman came in.
"I had to come--I couldn't wait. You have heard, he was married this morning? Oh, do you think it is true? Do help me!" She put out her hands.
"Sit down. Yes, it is quite true."
"Oh, it is so terrible, and I didn't know anything! Did you ever say anything to him?" She caught the woman's hands.
"I never saw him again after the day you were here,--so I could not speak to him,--but I did what I could." She stood looking passively into the fire.
"And they say she is quite a child, only eighteen. They say he only saw her three times before he proposed to her. Do you think it is true?"
"Yes, it is quite true."
"He can't love her. They say he's only marrying her for her rank and her money."
The woman turned quickly.
"What right have you to say that? No one but I know him. What need has he of any one's rank or wealth? He is greater than them all! Older women may have failed him; he has needed to turn to her beautiful, fresh, young life to compensate him. She is a woman whom any man might have loved, so young and beautiful; her family are famed for their intellect. If he trains her, she may make him a better wife than any other woman would have done."
"Oh, but I can't bear it--I can't bear it!" The younger woman sat down in the chair. "She will be his wife, and have his children."
"Yes." The elder woman moved quickly. "One wants to have the child, and lay its head on one's breast and feed it." She moved quickly. "It would not matter if another woman bore it, if one had it to take care of." She moved restlessly.
"Oh, no, I couldn't bear it to be hers. When I think of her I feel as if I were dying; all my fingers turn cold; I feel dead. Oh, you were only his friend; you don't know!"
The older spoke softly and quickly, "Don't you feel a little gentle to her when you think she's going to be his wife and the mother of his child? I would like to put my arms round her and touch her once, if she would let me. She is so beautiful, they say."
"Oh, I could never bear to see her; it would kill me. And they are so happy together today! He is loving her so!"
"Don't you want him to be happy?" The older woman looked down at her.
"Have you never loved him, at all?"
The younger woman's face was covered with her hands. "Oh, it's so terrible, so dark! and I shall go on living year after year, always in this awful pain! Oh, if I could only die!"
The older woman stood looking into the fire; then slowly and measuredly she said, "There are times, in life, when everything seems dark, when the brain reels, and we cannot see that there is anything but death. But, if we wait long enough, after long, long years, calm comes. It may be we cannot say it was well; but we are contented, we accept the past. The struggle is ended. That day may come for you, perhaps sooner than you think." She spoke slowly and with difficulty.
"No, it can never come for me. If once I have loved a thing, I love it for ever. I can never forget."
"Love is not the only end in life. There are other things to live for."
"Oh, yes, for you! To me love is everything!"
"Now, you must go, dear."
