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