CHAPTER XVIII
A DREAM
The day that Ariston left, the Mater summoned me to her room to makeplans for the day, and I found Lydia there, engaged in moving a bracketof beautifully wrought iron that she found too low. While I talked tothe Mater I found my eyes following Lydia's movements as she stood withher back to me unscrewing the bracket from the wall. The Mater soon cameto an understanding with me and left the room to attend to her householdduties. I was left alone with Lydia.
She had by this time unscrewed the bracket and was holding it higher upagainst the wall, estimating the height, prior to fastening it in again.
"You will never be able to fasten it at that height," said I, "without aladder."
She looked round at me, still holding the bracket against the wall, andI wished I had the art of a sculptor to immortalize her as she stood.
She smiled as she said: "How about a chair, Xenos?"
I immediately brought a chair to her.
She stepped upon it but slipped. I was holding the back of the chair,and as she slipped I put out my hands to catch her. For a moment I heldher in my arms. She had stumbled in such a way that her head was throwna little back over my shoulder, and before she could recover herself herface was so close to mine that I could have kissed her with theslightest possible movement of my face.
I thought that I had conquered the feeling which she had inspired in methe first moment I set eyes on her on Tyringham hill. But the blood,rushing through my veins, and my beating pulses, as I held her for amoment in my arms, told me that I was still hopelessly in love with her.
She seemed altogether unaware of it, for recovering her balance shelaughed a little, looked at me straight in the eyes, her brows a littlelifted, and her lovely lips parted by a smile.
"I slipped," she said. "Wasn't it silly of me!"
And jumping on the chair she got to work again.
I watched her work and drank deep draughts of delicious poison as Iwatched.
As soon as she had finished she looked at her work critically and said:"That is very much better!" and turning to me, added, "Isn't it?"
I could not help wondering whether she was as unconscious of the effectshe produced as she seemed to be. But she gave me no chance ofdiscovering, for finding I did not answer but stood there silent, like afool, she added:
"I must be off! _Au revoir!_" and taking up her screwdriver and otherthings, went with the appearance of utter unconsciousness out of theroom.
* * * * *
All that day my mind was haunted by her; I knew it was folly to harborhope, and yet I harbored it fatuously; her image came in and out of mymind as the sun on a rainy day in and out of the clouds, to delight andto torment.
That evening the orchestra played a minuet of Mozart so charmingly thatLydia rose, and saying, "We really must dance to that," made a sweepingbow.
I jumped up at the challenge, and soon eight of us were on our feet.Lydia was my partner. I was so absorbed by her every movement, soentranced by the occasional touch of her ungloved hand, that I wasaware of nothing else in the room. Surely, thought I, there never was aTanagra figure to compare with hers.
When we separated for the night I was in a fever. It was useless to goto bed, and I went out into the bright cold air. I saw the light in herroom and stood in front of it, cursing myself for a love-sick fool. Butthe cold drove me in--and to bed. For hours I tossed about, and sleepovertook me at last, but only to torture me; it played with me, threw meon my back, as it were, at one moment, only to jump me on my feet thenext; and throughout it all I saw Lydia at odd intervals in everyconceivable mood; now smiling and beckoning, now turning from me asthough offended, and, again, treating me with indifference. But at lastI seemed to have passed through a period of deep unconsciousness, for Iwoke suddenly to find Lydia before me more lovely than I had ever seenher. I was not surprised--although I know I ought to have been--to findher in a dress that showed her bosom, her hair hung like a curtain ofgold about her; her long eyes were wet with tears, and yet there shoneout of them a light so mystic and divine that I threw myself at herfeet. She held out a hand to me and lifted me up. I did not know themeaning of her tears or of her graciousness, but as I rose nearer toher she smiled. In an ecstasy I touched her lips with mine; she did notwithdraw them; nay, she kissed me on the brow and cheek, fond anddespairing kisses, for her tears fell upon my face and they were warm.
How long did it last? Was it for a moment or for all time? A blaze oflight pouring through my window roused me. I jumped out of bed andlooked stupidly out on the old sugar house that Anna had converted intoa studio. It was nothing but a dream.
"Nothing but a dream!" thought I exultingly. "But no one can everdeprive me of it. I have felt her kisses on my lips and her tears. Allmy life long that memory will belong to me--and suffice."
I sat down, weak and tired, closing my eyes to recall the vanisheddream; and it came back to me, every detail of it, so vividly that Ijumped up from my chair with the thought that it was not all mere fancy;something had happened, something had actually happened, of this I feltsure, and was it possible--I hardly dared entertain the thought--was itpossible she had dreamed also of me?
I dressed automatically, breakfasted automatically, strolledautomatically about the grounds. I must see Lydia. I returned to thehouse, asked the Mater where Lydia was, and was told that she could befound in the room where she had been the previous morning. I almost ranthere, and, on opening the door, saw her seated in a high-backed oakchair, very erect, with her hair about her and something resemblingtears in her eyes as I had seen her in my dream. She had tapestry in herhands, but they rested idly in her lap. She did not move when I entered.She seemed to be expecting me.
I advanced toward her slowly with something like awe in my heart.
"Did you have a dream in the night?" I at last summoned courage to ask.
She did not answer, and the look in her eyes baffled me.
"Did you dream of _me_?" I asked huskily--almost aghast.
Still she said nothing but kept fixed upon me her inscrutable eyes.
I hardly dared to go on, but in my folly I continued.
"Did you"--stammered I--but I could not put my question in words.
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she sat there just as I had seen her inmy dream, save that she wore the usual chiton.
I was in an anguish of suspense, but it came to an end, for she shookher head sadly.
"Don't!" she said. "Don't!"
I fell at her feet and buried my head in her lap. She did not shrinkfrom me. On the contrary, I felt her hand stroke my head, and I knew itwas not love but compassion.
I knelt there a full minute, but even to the luxury of grief I had notthe right to surrender. So I rose abruptly. I took her hand, kissed it,held it for a moment in mine, and said:
"I shall not intrude on you again, Lydia; I love you consumedly, but Ishall not intrude on you again."
And laying her hand gently upon her lap I turned abruptly and left theroom.
* * * * *
Next day I left Tyringham.
Almost the entire population of the farm--save only Lydia, her mother,and the few farm hands necessary to care for the stock--and these lasthad their holiday later--repaired to New York. Most of them went to thebuilding in which lived Anna's family. Ariston and I returned to our oldquarters.