X + 

I + 

Toward morning the still, breathless heat broke without warning into a fantastic storm which filled all the sky with blinding light and enveloped the whole countryside in a wild uproar of wind and thunder, leaving the dawn to reveal fields torn and ravaged and strewn with broken branches, and the bright garden bruised and battered by hail. + 

At breakfast Anson appeared neat and shaven and smooth, as though there had been no struggle a few hours before in the drawing-room, as if the thing had made no impression upon the smooth surface which he turned toward the world. Olivia poured his coffee quietly and permitted him to kiss her as he had done every day for twenty yearsвБ†вАФa strange, cold, absentminded kissвБ†вАФand stood in the doorway to watch him drive off to the train. Nothing had changed; it seemed to her that life at Pentlands had become incapable of any change. + 

And as she turned from the door Peters summoned her to the telephone to receive the telegram from Jean and Sybil; they had been married at seven in Hartford. + 

She set out at once to find John Pentland and after a search she came upon him in the stable-yard talking with Higgins. The strange pair stood by the side of the red mare, who watched them with her small, vicious red eyes; they were talking in that curious intimate way which descended upon them at the mention of horses, and as she approached she was struck, as she always was, by the fiery beauty of the animal, the pride of her lean head, the trembling of the fine nostrils as she breathed, the savagery of her eye. She was a strange, half-evil, beautiful beast. Olivia heard Higgins saying that it was no use trying to breed herвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ an animal like that, who kicked and screamed and bit at the very sight of another horse.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Higgins saw her first and, touching his cap, bade her good morning, and as the old man turned, she said, вАЬIвАЩve news for you, Mr.¬†Pentland.вАЭ + 

A shrewd, queer look came into his eyes and he asked, вАЬIs it about Sybil?вАЭ + 

вАЬYes.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs done.вАЭ + 

She saw that Higgins was mystified, and she was moved by a desire to tell him. Higgins ought to know certainly among the first. And she added, вАЬItвАЩs about Miss Sybil. She married young Mr.¬†de Cyon this morning in Hartford.вАЭ + 

The news had a magical effect on the little groom; his ugly, shriveled face expanded into a broad grin and he slapped his thigh in his enthusiasm. вАЬThatвАЩs grand, MaвАЩam.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I donвАЩt mind telling you I was for it all along. She couldnвАЩt have done betterвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ nor him either.вАЭ + 

Again moved by impulse, she said, вАЬSo you think itвАЩs a good thing?вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs grand, MaвАЩam. HeвАЩs one in a million. HeвАЩs the only one I know who was good enough. I was afraid she was going to throw herself away on Mr.¬†OвАЩHara.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But she ought to have a younger man.вАЭ + 

She turned away from him, pleased and relieved from the anxiety which had never really left her since the moment they drove off into the darkness. She kept thinking, вАЬHiggins is always right about people. He has a second sight.вАЭ Somehow, of them all, she trusted him most as a judge. + 

John Pentland led her away, out of range of HigginsвАЩ curiosity, along the hedge that bordered the gardens. The news seemed to affect him strangely, for he had turned pale, and for a long time he simply stood looking over the hedge in silence. At last he asked, вАЬWhen did they do it?вАЭ + 

вАЬLast night.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ She went for a drive with him and they didnвАЩt come back.вАЭ + 

вАЬI hope weвАЩve been rightвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ he said. вАЬI hope we havenвАЩt connived at a foolish thing.вАЭ + 

вАЬNo.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩm sure we havenвАЩt.вАЭ + 

Something in the brilliance of the sunlight, in the certainty of SybilвАЩs escape and happiness, in the freshness of the air touched after the storm by the first faint feel of autumn, filled her with a sense of giddiness, so that she forgot her own troubles; she forgot, even, that this was her fortieth birthday. + 

вАЬDid they go in SabineвАЩs motor?вАЭ he asked. + 

вАЬYes.вАЭ + 

Grinning suddenly, he said, вАЬShe thought perhaps that she was doing us a bad turn.вАЭ + 

вАЬNo, she knew that I approved. She did think of it first. She did propose it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

When he spoke again there was a faint hint of bitterness in his voice. вАЬIвАЩm sure she did. I only hope sheвАЩll stop her mischief with this. In any case, sheвАЩs had a victory over CassieвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and thatвАЩs what she wanted, more than anything.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He turned toward her sharply, with an air of anxiety. вАЬI suppose heвАЩll take her away with him?вАЭ + 

вАЬYes. TheyвАЩre going to Paris first and then to the Argentine.вАЭ + 

Suddenly he touched her shoulder with the odd, shy gesture of affection. вАЬItвАЩll be hard for you, Olivia dearвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ without her.вАЭ + 

The sudden action brought a lump into her throat, and yet she did not want to be pitied. She hated pity, because it implied weakness on her part. + 

вАЬOh,вАЭ she said quickly, вАЬtheyвАЩll come back from time to time.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I think that some day they may come back here to live.вАЭ + 

вАЬYes.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Pentlands will belong to them one day.вАЭ + 

And then for the first time she remembered that there was something which she had to tell him, something which had come to seem almost a confession. She must tell him now, especially since Jean would one day own all of Pentlands and all the fortune. + 

вАЬThereвАЩs something I didnвАЩt tell you before,вАЭ she began. вАЬItвАЩs something which I kept to myself because I wanted Sybil to have her happinessвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ in spite of everything.вАЭ + 

He interrupted her, saying, вАЬI know what it is.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou couldnвАЩt know what I mean.вАЭ + 

вАЬYes; the boy told me himself. I went to him to talk about Sybil because I wanted to make sure of himвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and after a time he told me. It was an honorable thing for him to have done. He neednвАЩt have told. Sabine would never have told usвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ never until it was too late.вАЭ + 

The speech left her feeling weak and disconcerted, for she had expected anger from him and disapproval. She had been fearful that he might treat her silence as a disloyalty to him, that it might in the end shatter the long, trusting relationship between them. + 

вАЬThe boy couldnвАЩt help it,вАЭ he was saying. вАЬItвАЩs a thing one canвАЩt properly explain. But heвАЩs a nice boyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and Sybil was so set on him. I think she has a good, sensible head on her young shoulders.вАЭ Sighing and turning toward her again, he added, вАЬI wouldnвАЩt speak of it to the othersвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ not even to Anson. They may never know, and if they donвАЩt what they donвАЩt know wonвАЩt hurt them.вАЭ + 

The mystery of him, it seemed, grew deeper and deeper each time they talked thus, intimately, perhaps because there were in the old man depths which she had never believed possible. Perhaps, deep down beneath all the fierce reticence of his nature, there lay a humanity far greater than any she had ever encountered. She thought, вАЬAnd I have always believed him hard and cold and disapproving.вАЭ She was beginning to fathom the great strength that lay in his fierce isolation, the strength of a man who had always been alone. + 

вАЬAnd you, Olivia?вАЭ he asked presently. вАЬAre you happy?вАЭ + 

вАЬYes.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ At least, IвАЩm happy this morningвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ on account of Sybil and Jean.вАЭ + 

вАЬThatвАЩs right,вАЭ he said with a gentle sadness. вАЬThatвАЩs right. TheyвАЩve done what you and I were never able to do, Olivia. TheyвАЩll have what weвАЩve never had and never can have because itвАЩs too late. And weвАЩve helped them to gain it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ThatвАЩs something. I merely wanted you to know that I understood.вАЭ And then, вАЬWeвАЩd better go and tell the others. The devil will be to pay when they hear.вАЭ + 

She would have gone away then, but an odd thought occurred to her, a hope, feeble enough, but one which might give him a little pleasure. She was struck again by his way of speaking, as if he were very near to death or already dead. He had the air of a very old and weary man. + 

She said, вАЬThereвАЩs one thing IвАЩve wanted to ask you for a long time.вАЭ She hesitated and then plunged. вАЬIt was about Savina Pentland. Did she ever have more than one child?вАЭ + 

He looked at her sharply out of the bright black eyes and asked, вАЬWhy do you want to know that?вАЭ + 

She tried to deceive him by shrugging her shoulders and saying casually, вАЬI donвАЩt know.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩve become interested lately, perhaps on account of AnsonвАЩs book.вАЭ + 

вАЬYouвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ interested in the past, Olivia?вАЭ + 

вАЬYes.вАЭ + 

вАЬYes, she only had one childвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and then she was drowned when he was only a year old. He was my grandfather.вАЭ Again he looked at her sharply. вАЬOlivia, you must tell me the truth. Why did you ask me that question?вАЭ + 

Again she hesitated, saying, вАЬI donвАЩt knowвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ it seemed to me.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬDid you find something? Did she,вАЭ he asked, making the gesture toward the north wing, вАЬdid she tell you anything?вАЭ + 

She understood then that he, marvelous old man, must even know about the letters. вАЬYes,вАЭ she said in a low voice, вАЬI found somethingвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ in the attic.вАЭ + 

He sighed and looked away again, across the wet meadows. вАЬSo you know, too.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ She found them first, and hid them away again. She wouldnвАЩt give them to me because she hated meвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ from our wedding-night. IвАЩve told you about that. And then she couldnвАЩt remember where sheвАЩd hid themвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ poor thing. But she told me about them. At times she used to taunt me by saying that I wasnвАЩt a Pentland at all. I think the thing made her mind darker than it was before. She had some terrible idea about the sin in my family for which she must atone.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs true,вАЭ said Olivia softly. вАЬThereвАЩs no doubt of it. It was written by Toby Cane himselfвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ in his own handwriting. IвАЩve compared it with the letters Anson has of his.вАЭ After a moment she asked, вАЬAnd youвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ youвАЩve known it always?вАЭ + 

вАЬAlways,вАЭ he said sadly. вАЬIt explains many things.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Sometimes I think that those of us who have lived since have had to atone for their sin. ItвАЩs all worked out in a harsh way, when you come to think of it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She guessed what it was he meant. She saw again that he believed in such a thing as sin, that the belief in it was rooted deeply in his whole being. + 

вАЬHave you got the letters, Olivia?вАЭ he asked. + 

вАЬNoвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I burned themвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ last nightвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ because I was afraid of them. I was afraid that I might do something shameful with them. And if they were burned, no one would believe such a preposterous story and there wouldnвАЩt be any proof. I was afraid, too,вАЭ she added softly, вАЬof what was in themвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ not what was written there, so much as the way it was written.вАЭ + 

He took her hand and with the oddest, most awkward gesture, kissed it gently. вАЬYou were right, Olivia dear,вАЭ he said. вАЬItвАЩs all they haveвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the othersвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ that belief in the past. We darenвАЩt take that from them. The strong darenвАЩt oppress the weak. It would have been too cruel. It would have destroyed the one thing into which Anson poured his whole life. You see, Olivia, there are peopleвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ people like youвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ who have to be strong enough to look out for the others. ItвАЩs a hard taskвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and sometimes a cruel one. If it werenвАЩt for such people the world would fall apart and weвАЩd see it for the cruel, unbearable place it is. ThatвАЩs why IвАЩve trusted everything to you. ThatвАЩs what I was trying to tell you the other night. You see, Olivia, I know youвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I know there are things which people like us canвАЩt do.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Perhaps itвАЩs because weвАЩre weak or foolishвБ†вАФwho knows? But itвАЩs true. I knew that you were the sort who would do just such a thing.вАЭ + 

Listening to him, she again felt all her determination slipping from her. It was a strange sensation, as if he took possession of her, leaving her powerless to act, prisoning her again in that terrible wall of rightness in which he believed. The familiar sense of his strength frightened her, because it seemed a force so irresistible. It was the strength of one who was more than right; it was the strength of one who believed. + 

She had a fierce impulse to turn from him and to run swiftly, recklessly, across the wet meadows toward Michael, leaving forever behind her the placid, beautiful old house beneath the elms. + 

вАЬThere are some things,вАЭ he was saying, вАЬwhich it is impossible to doвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ for people like us, Olivia. They are impossible because the mere act of doing them would ruin us forever. They arenвАЩt things which we can do gracefully.вАЭ + 

And she knew again what it was that he meant, as she had known vaguely while she stood alone in the darkness before the figures of Higgins and Miss Egan emerged from the mist of the marshes. + 

вАЬYou had better go now and telephone to Anson. I fancy heвАЩll be badly upset, but I shall put an end to thatвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and Cassie, too. She had it all planned for the Mannering boy.вАЭ + 

II + 

Anson was not to be reached all the morning at the office; he had gone, so his secretary said, to a meeting of the Society of Guardians of Young Working Girls without Homes and left express word that he was not to be disturbed. But Aunt Cassie heard the news when she arrived on her morning call at Pentlands. Olivia broke it to her as gently as possible, but as soon as the old lady understood what had happened, she went to pieces badly. Her eyes grew wild; she wept, and her hair became all disheveled. She took the attitude that Sybil had been seduced and was now a woman lost beyond all hope. She kept repeating between punctuations of profound sympathy for Olivia in the hour of her trial, that such a thing had never happened in the Pentland family; until Olivia, enveloped in the old, perilous calm, reminded her of the elopement of Jared Pentland and Savina Dalgedo and bade her abruptly to stop talking nonsense. + 

And then Aunt Cassie was deeply hurt by her tone, and Peters had to be sent away for smelling-salts at the very moment that Sabine arrived, grinning and triumphant. It was Sabine who helped administer the smelling-salts with the grim air of administering burning coals. When the old lady grew a little more calm she fell again to saying over and over again, вАЬPoor Sybil.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ My poor, innocent little SybilвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ that this should have happened to her!вАЭ + 

To which Olivia replied at last, вАЬJean is a fine young man. IвАЩm sure she couldnвАЩt have done better.вАЭ And then, to soften a little Aunt CassieвАЩs anguish, she said, вАЬAnd heвАЩs very rich, Aunt CassieвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a great deal richer than many a husband she might have found here.вАЭ + 

The information had an even better effect than the smelling-salts, so that the old lady became calm enough to take an interest in the details and asked where they had found a motor to go away in. + 

вАЬIt was mine,вАЭ said Sabine dryly. вАЬI loaned it to them.вАЭ + 

The result of this statement was all that Sabine could have desired. The old lady sat bolt upright, all bristling, and cried, with an air of suffocation, вАЬOh, you viper! Why God should have sent me such a trial, I donвАЩt know. YouвАЩve always wished us evil and now I suppose youвАЩre content! May God have mercy on your malicious soul!вАЭ And breaking into fresh sobs, she began all over again, вАЬMy poor, innocent little Sybil.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ What will people say? What will they think has been going on!вАЭ + 

вАЬDonвАЩt be evil-minded, Aunt Cassie,вАЭ said Sabine sharply; and then in a calmer voice, вАЬIt will be hard on me.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I wonвАЩt be able to go to Newport until they come back with the motor.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ began Aunt Cassie, and then fell back, a broken woman. + 

вАЬI suppose,вАЭ continued Sabine ruthlessly, вАЬthat we ought to tell the Mannering boy.вАЭ + 

вАЬYes,вАЭ cried Aunt Cassie, reviving again. вАЬYes! ThereвАЩs the boy she ought to have married.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬAnd Mrs.¬†Soames,вАЭ said Sabine. вАЬSheвАЩll be pleased at the news.вАЭ + 

Olivia spoke for the first time in nearly half an hour. вАЬItвАЩs no use. Mr.¬†Pentland has been over to see her, but she didnвАЩt understand what it was he wanted to tell her. She was in a dazeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ only half-consciousвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and they think she may not recover this time.вАЭ + 

In a whisper, lost in the greater agitation of Aunt CassieвАЩs sobs, she said to Sabine, вАЬItвАЩs like the end of everything for him. I donвАЩt know what heвАЩll do.вАЭ + 

The confusion of the day seemed to increase rather than to die away. Aunt Cassie was asked to stay to lunch, but she said it was impossible to consider swallowing even a crust of bread. вАЬIt would choke me!вАЭ she cried melodramatically. + 

вАЬIt is an excellent lunch,вАЭ urged Olivia. + 

вАЬNoвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ noвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ donвАЩt ask me!вАЭ + 

But, unwilling to quit the scene of action, she lay on Horace PentlandвАЩs Regence sofa and regained her strength a little by taking a nap while the others ate. + 

At last Anson called, and when the news was told him, the telephone echoed with his threats. He would, he said, hire a motor (an extravagance by which to guage the profundity of his agitation) and come down at once. + 

And then, almost immediately, Michael telephoned. вАЬI have just come down,вАЭ he said, and asked Olivia to come riding with him. вАЬI must talk to you at once.вАЭ + 

She refused to ride, but consented to meet him halfway, at the pine thicket where Higgins had discovered the foxcubs. вАЬI canвАЩt leave just now,вАЭ she told him, вАЬand I donвАЩt think itвАЩs best for you to come here at the moment.вАЭ + 

For some reason, perhaps vaguely because she thought he might use the knowledge as a weapon to break down her will, she said nothing of the elopement. For in the confusion of the day, beneath all the uproar of scenes, emotions and telephone-calls, she had been thinking, thinking, thinking, so that in the end the uproar had made little impression upon her. She had come to understand that John Pentland must have lived thus, year after year, moving always in a secret life of his own, and presently she had come to the conclusion that she must send Michael away once and for all. + 

As she moved across the meadow she noticed that the birches had begun to turn yellow and that in the low ground along the river the meadows were already painted gold and purple by masses of goldenrod and ironweed. With each step she seemed to grow weaker and weaker, and as she drew near the blue-black wall of pines she was seized by a violent trembling, as if the sense of his presence were able somehow to reach out and engulf her even before she saw him. She kept trying to think of the old man as he stood beside her at the hedge, but something stronger than her will made her see only MichaelвАЩs curly black head and blue eyes. She began even to prayвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ she (Olivia) who never prayed because the piety of Aunt Cassie and Anson and the Apostle to the Genteel stood always in her way. + 

And then, looking up, she saw him standing half-hidden among the lower pines, watching her. She began to run toward him, in terror lest her knees should give way and let her fall before she reached the shelter of the trees. + 

In the darkness of the thicket where the sun seldom penetrated, he put his arms about her and kissed her in a way he had never done before, and the action only increased her terror. She said nothing; she only wept quietly; and at last, when she had gained control of herself, she struggled free and said, вАЬDonвАЩt, MichaelвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ please donвАЩtвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ please.вАЭ + 

They sat on a fallen log and, still holding her hand, he asked, вАЬWhat is it? What has happened?вАЭ + 

вАЬNothing.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩm just tired.вАЭ + 

вАЬAre you willing to come away with me? Now?вАЭ And in a low, warm voice, he added, вАЬIвАЩll never let you be tired againвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ never.вАЭ + 

She did not answer him, because it seemed to her that what she had to tell him made all her actions in the past seem inexplicable and cheap. She was filled with shame, and tried to put off the moment when she must speak. + 

вАЬI havenвАЩt been down in three days,вАЭ he was saying, вАЬbecause thereвАЩs been trouble in Boston which made it impossible. IвАЩve only slept an hour or two a night. TheyвАЩve been trying to do me inвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ some of the men I always trusted. TheyвАЩve been double-crossing me all along and I had to stay to fight them.вАЭ + 

He told her a long and complicated story of treachery, of money having been passed among men whom he had known and trusted always. He was sad and yet defiant, too, and filled with a desire to fight the thing to an end. She failed to understand the story; indeed she did not even hear much of it: she only knew that he was telling her everything, pouring out all his sadness and trouble to her as if she were the one person in all the world to whom he could tell such things. + 

And when he had finished he waited for a moment and then said, вАЬAnd now IвАЩm willing to chuck the whole dirty business and quitвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ to tell them all to go to hell.вАЭ + 

Quickly she answered, вАЬNo, you mustnвАЩt do that. You canвАЩt do that. A man like you, Michael, darenвАЩt do such a thing.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ For she knew that without a battle life would mean nothing to him. + 

вАЬNoвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I mean it. IвАЩm ready to quit. I want you to go with me.вАЭ + 

She thought, вАЬHe says thisвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and yet he stayed three days and nights in Boston to fight!вАЭ She saw that he was not looking at her, but sitting with his head in his hands; there was something broken, almost pitiful, in his manner, and it occurred to her that perhaps for the first time he found all his life in a hopeless tangle. She thought, вАЬIf I had never known him, this might not have happened. He would have been able to fight without even thinking of me.вАЭ + 

Aloud she said, вАЬI canвАЩt do it, Michael.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs no use. I canвАЩt.вАЭ + 

He looked up quickly, but before he could speak she placed her hand over his lips, saying, вАЬWait, Michael, let me talk first. Let me say what IвАЩve wanted to say for so long.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩve thought.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩve done nothing else but think day and night for the past three days. And itвАЩs no good, Michael.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs no good. IвАЩm forty years old today, and what can I give you that will make up for all you will lose? Why should you give up everything for me? No, IвАЩve nothing to offer. You can go back and fight and win. ItвАЩs what you like more than anything in the worldвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ more than any womanвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ even me.вАЭ + 

Again he tried to speak, but she silenced him. вАЬOh, I know itвАЩs trueвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ what I say. And if I had you at such a price, youвАЩd only hate me in the end. I couldnвАЩt do it, Michael, becauseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ because in the end, with men like you itвАЩs work, itвАЩs a career, which is first.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You couldnвАЩt bear giving up. You couldnвАЩt bear failure.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And in the end thatвАЩs right, as it should be. ItвАЩs what keeps the world going.вАЭ + 

He was watching her with a look of fascination in his eyes, and she knewвБ†вАФshe was certain of itвБ†вАФthat he had never been so much in love with her before; but she knew, too, from the shadow which crossed his face (it seemed to her that he almost winced) and because she knew him so well, that he recognized the truth of what she had said. + 

вАЬItвАЩs not true, Olivia.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You canвАЩt go back on me nowвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ just when I need you most.вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩd be betraying you, Michael, if I did the other thing. ItвАЩs not me you need half so much as the other thing. Oh, I know that IвАЩm right. What you should have in the end is a young womanвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a woman who will help you. It doesnвАЩt matter very much whether youвАЩre terribly in love with her or notвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ but a woman who can be your wife and bear your children and give dinner parties and help make of you the famous man youвАЩve always meant to be. You need someone who will help you to found a family, to fill your new house with childrenвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ someone whoвАЩll help you and your children to take the place of families like ours who are at the end of things. No, MichaelвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩm right.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Look at me,вАЭ she commanded suddenly. вАЬLook at me and youвАЩll know that itвАЩs not because I donвАЩt love you.вАЭ + 

He was on his knees now, on the carpet of scented pine-needles, his arms about her while she stroked the thick black hair with a kind of hysterical intensity. + 

вАЬYou donвАЩt know what youвАЩre saying, Olivia. ItвАЩs not true! ItвАЩs not true! IвАЩd give up everything.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I donвАЩt want the other thing. IвАЩll sell my farm and go away from here forever with you.вАЭ + 

вАЬYes, Michael, you think that today, just nowвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and tomorrow everything will be changed. ThatвАЩs one of the mean tricks Nature plays us. ItвАЩs not so simple as that. WeвАЩre not like Higgins andвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the kitchen-maidвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ at least not in some ways.вАЭ + 

вАЬOliviaвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Olivia, do you love me enough to.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She knew what he meant to ask. She thought, вАЬWhat does it matter? Why should I not, when I love him so? I should be harming no oneвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ no one but myself.вАЭ + 

And then, abruptly, through the mist of tears she saw through an opening in the thicket a little procession crossing the meadows toward the big house at Pentlands. She saw it with a terrible, intense clarityвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a little procession of the gardener and his helper carrying between them on a shutter a figure that lay limp and still, and following them came Higgins on foot, leading his horse and moving with the awkward rolling gait which afflicted him when his feet were on the ground. She knew who the still figure was. It was John Pentland. The red mare had killed him at last. And she heard him saying, вАЬThere are some things which people like us, Olivia, canвАЩt do.вАЭ + 

What happened immediately afterward she was never able to remember very clearly. She found herself joining the little procession; she knew that Michael was with her, and that there could be no doubt of the tragedy.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ John Pentland was dead, with his neck broken. He lay on the shutter, still and peaceful, the bitter lines all melted from the grim, stern face, as he had been when she came upon him in the library smelling of dogs and woodsmoke and whisky. Only this time he had escaped for good.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

And afterward she remembered telling Michael, as they stood alone in the big white hall, that Sybil and Jean were married, and dismissing him by saying, вАЬNow, Michael, it is impossible. While he was living I might have done it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I might have gone away. But now itвАЩs impossible. DonвАЩt ask me. Please leave me in peace.вАЭ + 

Standing there under the wanton gaze of Savina Pentland, she watched him go away, quietly, perhaps because he understood that all she had said was true. + 

III + 

In the tragedy the elopement became lost and forgotten. Doctors came and went; even reporters put in an awkward appearance, eager for details of the death and the marriage in the Pentland family, and somehow the confusion brought peace to Olivia. They forgot her, save as one who managed everything quietly; for they had need just then of someone who did not break into wild spasms of grief or wander about helplessly. In the presence of death, Anson forgot even his anger over the elopement, and late in the afternoon Olivia saw him for the first time when he came to her helplessly to ask, вАЬThe men have come to photograph the portraits. What shall we do?вАЭ + 

And she answered, вАЬSend them away. We can photograph ancestors any time. TheyвАЩll always be with us.вАЭ + 

Sabine volunteered to send word to Sybil and Jean. At such times all her cold-blooded detachment made of her a person of great value, and Olivia knew that she could be trusted to find them because she wanted her motor again desperately. Remembering her promise to the old man, she went across to see Mrs.¬†Soames, but nothing came of it, for the old lady had fallen into a state of complete unconsciousness. She would, they told Olivia, probably die without ever knowing that John Pentland had gone before her. + 

Aunt Cassie took up her throne in the darkened drawing-room and there, amid the acrid smell of the first chrysanthemums of the autumn, she held a red-eyed, snuffling court to receive the calls of all the countryside. Again she seemed to rise for a time triumphant and strong, even overcoming her weakness enough to go and come from the gazeboed house on foot, arriving early and returning late. She insisted upon summoning Bishop Smallwood to conduct the services, and discovered after much trouble that he was attending a church conference in the West. In reply to her telegram she received only an answer that it was impossible for him to return, even if they delayed the funeralвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ that in the role of prominent defender of the Virgin Birth he could not leave the field at a moment when the power of his party was threatened. + 

It seemed for a time that, as Sabine had hoped, the whole structure of the family was falling about them in ruins. + 

As for Olivia, she would have been at peace save that three times within two days notes came to her from MichaelвБ†вАФnotes which she sent back unopened because she was afraid to read them; until at last she wrote on the back of one, вАЬThere is nothing more to say. Leave me in peace.вАЭ And after that there was only silence, which in a strange way seemed to her more unbearable than the sight of his writing. She discovered that two persons had witnessed the tragedyвБ†вАФHiggins, who had been riding with the old man, and Sabine, who had been walking the river pathвБ†вАФwalking only because Jean and Sybil had her motor. Higgins knew only that the mare had run off and killed his master; but Sabine had a strangely different version, which she recounted to Olivia as they sat in her room, the day after. + 

вАЬI saw them,вАЭ she said, вАЬcoming across the meadow.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Cousin John, with Higgins following. And then, all at once, the mare seemed to be frightened by something and began to runвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ straight in a line for the gravel-pit. It was a fascinating sightвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a horrible sightвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ because I knewвБ†вАФI was certainвБ†вАФwhat was going to happen. For a moment Cousin John seemed to fight with her, and then all at once he leaned forward on her neck and let her go. Higgins went after him; but it was no use trying to catch her.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ One might as well have tried to overtake a whirlwind. They seemed to fly across the fields straight for the line of elders that hid the pit, and I knew all the while that there was no saving them unless the mare turned. At the bushes the mare jumpedвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the prettiest jump IвАЩve ever seen a horse make, straight above the bushes into the open air.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

For a moment SabineвАЩs face was lighted by a macabre enthusiasm. Her voice wavered a little. вАЬIt was a horrible, beautiful sight. For a moment they seemed almost to rise in the air as if the mare were flying, and then all at once they fellвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ into the bottom of the pit.вАЭ + 

Olivia was silent, and presently, as if she had been waiting for the courage, Sabine continued in a low voice, вАЬBut thereвАЩs one thing I saw beyond any doubt. At the edge of the pit the mare tried to turn. She would have turned away, but Cousin John raised his crop and struck her savagely. There was no doubt of it. He forced her over the elders.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ Again after a pause, вАЬHiggins must have seen it, too. He followed them to the very edge of the pit. I shall always see him there, sitting on his horse outlined against the sky. He was looking down into the pit and for a moment the horse and man together looked exactly like a centaur.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ It was an extraordinary impression.вАЭ + 

She remembered him thus, but she remembered him, too, as she had seen him on the night of the ball, slipping away through the lilacs like a shadow. Rising, she said, вАЬJean and Sybil will be back tomorrow, and then IвАЩll be off for Newport. I thought you might want to know what Higgins and I knew, Olivia.вАЭ For a moment she hesitated, looking out of the window toward the sea. And at last she said, вАЬHe was a queer man. He was the last of the great Puritans. There arenвАЩt any more. None of the rest of us believe anything. We only pretend.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

But Olivia scarcely heard her. She understood now why it was that the old man had talked to her as if he were very near to death, and she thought, вАЬHe did it in a way that none would ever discover. He trusted Higgins, and Sabine was an accident. PerhapsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ perhapsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ he did it to keep me hereвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ to save the thing he believed in all his life.вАЭ + 

It was a horrible thought which she tried to kill, but it lingered, together with the regret that she had never finished what she had begun to tell him as they stood by the hedge talking of the lettersвБ†вАФthat one day Jean might take the name of John Pentland. He had, after all, as much right to it as he had to the name of de Cyon; it would be only a little change, but it would allow the name of Pentland to go on and on. All the land, all the money, all the tradition, would go down to Pentland children, and so make a reason for their existence; and in the end the name would be something more then than a thing embalmed in The Pentland Family and the Massachusetts Bay Colony. The descendants would be, after all, of Pentland blood, or at least of the blood of Savina Dalgedo and Toby Cane, which had come long ago to be Pentland blood. + 

And she thought grimly, вАЬHe was right, after all. I am one of them at lastвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ in spite of everything. ItвАЩs I who am carrying on now.вАЭ + 

On the morning of the funeral, as she stood on the terrace expecting Jean and Sybil, Higgins, dressed in his best black suit and looking horribly awkward and ill at ease, came toward her to say, looking away from her, вАЬMr.¬†OвАЩHara is going away. TheyвАЩre putting up a вАШFor SaleвАЩ sign on his gate. He isnвАЩt coming back.вАЭ And then looking at her boldly he added, вАЬI thought you might want to know, Mrs.¬†Pentland.вАЭ + 

For a moment she had a sudden, fierce desire to cry out, вАЬNo, he mustnвАЩt go! You must tell him to stay. I canвАЩt let him go away like that!вАЭ She wanted suddenly to run across the fields to the bright, vulgar, new house, to tell him herself. She thought, вАЬHe meant, then, what he said. HeвАЩs given up everything here.вАЭ + 

But she knew, too, that he had gone away to fight, freed now and moved only by his passion for success, for victory. + 

And before she could answer Higgins, who stood there wanting her to send him to Michael, Miss Egan appeared, starched and rigid and wearing the professional expression of solemnity which she adopted in the presence of bereaved families. She said, вАЬItвАЩs about her, Mrs.¬†Pentland. She seems very bright this morning and quite in her right mind. She wants to know why he hasnвАЩt been to see her for two whole days. I thought.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Olivia interrupted her quietly. вАЬItвАЩs all right,вАЭ she said. вАЬIвАЩll go and tell her. IвАЩll explain. ItвАЩs better for me to do it.вАЭ + 

She went away into the house, knowing bitterly that she left Miss Egan and Higgins thinking of her with pity. + 

As she climbed the worn stair carpet to the north wing, she knew suddenly a profound sense of peace such as she had not known for years. It was over and done now, and life would go on the same as it had always done, filled with trickiness and boredom and deceits, but pleasant, too, in spite of everything, perhaps because, as John Pentland had said, вАЬOne had sometimes to pretend.вАЭ And, after all, Sybil had escaped and was happy. + 

She knew now that she herself would never escape; she had been too long a part of Pentlands, and she knew that what the old man had said was the truth. She had acted thus not because of duty, or promises, or nobility, or pride, or even out of virtue.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Perhaps it was even because she was not strong enough to do otherwise. But she knew that she had acted thus because, as he said, вАЬThere are things, Olivia, which people like us canвАЩt do.вАЭ + 

And as she moved along the narrow hall, she saw from one of the deep-set windows the figure of Sabine moving along the lane in a faint cloud of dust, and nearer at hand, at the entrance of the elm-bordered drive, Aunt Cassie in deep black, coming along briskly in a cloud of crape. No, nothing had changed. It would go on and on.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

The door opened and the sickly odor of medicines flooded the hallway. Out of the darkness came the sound of a feeble, reedlike voice, terrible in its sanity, saying, вАЬOh, itвАЩs you, Olivia. I knew youвАЩd come. IвАЩve been waiting for you.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 