BANKED FIRES
by
E. W. SAVI
Author of "The Daughter-in-Law," "Sinners All," Etc.
_"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies."_--Proverbs xxxi., 10.
G. P. Putnam's SonsNew York and LondonThe Knickerbocker Press1919
Copyright, 1919byE. W. Savi
The Knickerbocker Press, New York
To MY SISTER, A. B. B.IN LOVING APPRECIATION OF HER INTEREST AND HELP
CONTENTS
I.--The Lonely Encampment
II.--Mainly Retrospective
III.--The Civil Surgeon
IV.--A Point of View
V.--What Can't be Cured
VI.--The Leading Lady
VII.--An Anxious Experience
VIII.--The Dinner-Party
IX.--A Moment of Relaxation
X.--The Mission
XI.--A Sunday Observance
XII.--Infatuation
XIII.--Vanished
XIV.--The Indiscretion
XV.--The Aftermath
XVI.--Cornered
XVII.--Breaking Bounds
XVIII.--Secret Joys
XIX.--The Deluge
XX.--The "Ideal"
XXI.--The Real Thing
XXII.--A Desperate Resort
XXIII.--Temporisings
XXIV.--Suspense
XXV.--The Meeting
XXVI.--The Fair
XXVII.--A Difficult Task
XXVIII.--The Atonement
Epilogue: All's Well
BANKED FIRES
CHAPTER I
THE LONELY ENCAMPMENT
An autumn evening in Bengal was rapidly drawing to a close, with a briefafterglow from a vanished sun to soften the rich hues of the tropicalfoliage, and garb it fittingly for approaching night. The grass besidethe Government tents showed grey in the gathering dusk, while a bluehaze of smoke, creeping upward, gently veiled the sheltering trees. Butfor the modulated chatter of servants, the stillness was eerie. Theflat, low-lying fields, having yielded their corn to the harvester, werebarren and without sign of life, for the cultivators had departed totheir homesteads, and the roving cattle were housed.
Far in the misty distance were the huts of the peasantry groupedtogether, with their granaries, haystacks, and pens; their date-palms,and the inevitable tank illustrating the typical Bengalvillage--picturesque and insanitary; too far for noxious smells to annoythe senses, or the intermittent beating of the nocturnal "tom-tom" toaffect the nerves of the Magistrate and Collector during the writing ofhis judgments and reports.
The spot for the encampment had been well chosen by the blue-turbaned_chaukidar_--the sturdy watchman of the village--who was experienced inthe ways of touring officials; for even such a little matter as a sitefor pitching the tents of the _hakim_,[1] had its influence for good orill; and what might not be the effect of a good influence on the temperof a lawgiver?
[Footnote 1: Magistrate.]
This one, especially, instilled the fear of God and of the British, intohis servants and underlings in spite of his sportsmanship andgenerosity, for he had a great understanding of native character and,like a wizard, could, in the twinkling of an eye, dissect the mind andbetray the soul of a false witness! None could look him in the face andpersist in falsehood. He was a just man, and courageous; and when rousedto wrath, both fierce and fluent. But the diplomatic domestic andcautious coolie, alike, respect justice and fearlessness, determination,and a high hand.
Servants, engaged in culinary duties before open fire-places, gossipedin lowered tones of standing grievances: It was like the exactness ofthe Great to require a five-course dinner, served with due attention torefinement and etiquette in untoward circumstances, such as animprovised cooking-range of clay and bricks, a hurried collection oftwigs, some charcoal, and every convenience conspicuous by its absence!And what a village to rely upon!--no shops; only a weekly market withnothing suitable to the wants of white men fastidious and difficult toplease.
Yet, the day that sahibs condescend to study the convenience of theirIndian domestics, the prestige of the British Raj will be at an end.
"Ho! _Khansaman-jee_!" cried an agitated voice in Hindustani. "With alittle clemency, look quickly in the rubbish heap for the pepper pot.The _masalchi_,[2] out of the perversity of his youthfulness, has lostthat and every other ingredient for the flavouring of the soup; and now,what can I do? Of a truth, this night will the Sahib give me much abusefor that which is no fault of mine. I shall twist the idle one's ear themoment he returns with firewood from the jungle, just to stimulate hismind and teach him carefulness."
[Footnote 2: Scullion.]
The _khansaman_[3] uncoiled his legs and rose from the ground where hehad been peeling potatoes at his leisure with a table knife, andproceeded to do as he was bid. He was of an obliging nature and could berelied upon to perform odd jobs not strictly his duty, so long as theydid not establish a precedent.
[Footnote 3: Butler.]
After some diligent searching among loose charcoal, dried twigs, kitchenrags, utensils, and vegetable parings, a rusty tin box was discoveredand handed to the cook. Old Abdul grunted approval of his ownintelligence, and after liberally sprinkling the soup with pepper frombetween a dirty finger and thumb, he wiped both, casually, in the foldsof his loin-cloth.
Altogether, the task of preparing dinner in camp was no mean effort. Thebusiness of the moment was to produce a clear soup with its artisticgarniture of sliced carrots and turnips; to be followed by tank fishcaptured that afternoon from the property of a local Hindu landownerand, in the serving, robbed of its earthly flavour by a miracle ofsavoury dressing. Considering the lapses of the mate-boy's memory, thiswas a marvel of achievement. Next, the _entree_ of devilled goat (calledby courtesy, mutton) was also a difficulty; nevertheless with a lavishaddition of mango chutney, it was on its way to completion. The "chickenroast" was a tolerable certainty in a deep vessel where it baked in itsown juices, stuffed with onions, cloves, and rice. But thepudding--alas! black despair, invisible owing to natural pigment, was inpossession of Abdul's soul. What to do, he grumbled, but to serve, infear and trembling, that abomination of sahibs, a "custul-bile" (boiledcustard), since every possible ingredient for a respectable pudding hadbeen left behind at the last Rest Bungalow! What the master would say,might well be imagined, for these were not the easy-going days of hisbachelorhood, when such makeshifts, varied with "custul-bake," could beimposed upon him with the regularity of the calendar; for, after asuccessful day's _shikar_, with a tiger spread at full length on thegrass before the tent for the benefit of an admiring semicircle ofenthusiastic villagers, the quality of a meal used to be a secondaryconsideration.
Well--what use to repine? Even a cook must sometimes be excused, sincehe was not God to create something out of nothing. Peradventure, thetimely indisposition of the babe within the tent would offerdistraction. In the interludes of stirring the pots and declaimingagainst fate and the misdemeanours of the _masalchi_, the cook soothedhis ruffled spirits with a pull at his beloved _hukha_.
Yes, the Sahib was married, worse luck! and lived, above all, to pleasehis Memsahib who, to him, was the sun, moon, and stars; the light of theworld. And she?--of a sort wholly unsuited to the conditions of hislife; a flower plucked to wither in a furnace-blast. The rough soil ofthe country was no place for a delicate plant; and such was alsoapparent in the case of her infant. Since its arrival from the hillswhere it was born, it daily faded as though a blight had descended uponits vitality; and now it was stricken with a fever.
Devil take s
ahibs for their folly! This one had been content enough as abachelor, hunting and shooting in his spare time, and consorting withhis kind where games were played to pass the time away; what-for did heallow himself to be shackled thus during his visit to _Belait_? Itpassed understanding; for there were many _Miss Babas_ in the country,already acclimatised, from among whom he might have selected a suitablewife; one who could at least have made herself intelligible to hisservants in their own language, instead of this one who created endlessconfusion by non-comprehension. But no! he had been unable to stand theallurements of her person. The rounded outlines of her slender form andthe bloom on her flawless cheek had enslaved him, depriving him of thepower to resist. Truly she was good to look upon, as every masculine eyebetrayed by its open homage.
In all the annals of the District, never had there been a morepicturesque creature than this girl-wife, with her hair like ripe cornand eyes like full-blown flowers of heavenly blue. Even the servants ingazing on their wonder forgot to heed the orders she delivered throughthe ayah, whose linguistic powers commanded the respect of the entireestablishment.
The subject of the little lady from _Belait_ was a favourite theme ofconversation when domestics congregated in the region of the kitchen togossip and smoke, and criticism was condescending and tolerant becauseof her good looks, which made their inevitable appeal. But opinion wasagreed that no longer was Meredith Sahib the same man. Henceforth, ifthey would keep their situations, they must satisfy his lady. Her littlehand would point the way he must in future tread.
And he, the respected Magistrate and Collector, representative of theGovernment in the District--a sahib whose word had authority overthousands on the land, and before whom all delinquents trembled!
Such was the influence of beauty!
According to the words of a local poet who sang his verses in theMuktiarbad bazaar to an accompaniment of tom-tomming:
_A beautiful wife is as wine in the head to her husband; as wax is in the palm of her hand. His wisdom cometh to naught in his dwelling; his will is bartered for the things in her gift. Beguiled is he by the words of her mouth, and he taketh only the way that will please her. Bereft is he of his power to govern, yet happy is he in the bonds of enslavement._
And these did he compose out of the rumours current in the market-placerespecting Meredith Sahib and the Memsahib he had taken to wife. _Yah,Khodah!_ the white race were amazingly simple!
The sound of an infant's distressed wail broke the calm of thedescending gloom. Voices within the tent conferred together in agitatedwhispers. There was a call for hot water, and in a moment the Madrassiayah rushed forth for the steaming kettle which was boiling for sculleryneeds, and carried it off without a question. The waterman, clad only ina loin-cloth, hurried round to the bath tent, and a diminutive, tinbath-tub was extracted. Apparently the child was to be immersed.
"What has happened?" called the Sahib's body servant, the _bearer_, whowas the major-domo of the camp. But the waterman, fully appreciative ofhis temporary importance, refused to reply as he disappeared from view.
"Ice--ice!" the lady cried dashing through the bamboo chick and almosttearing it from its fastenings. "Give me ice quickly." She lookedhaggard and distracted. Dark circles ringed her eyes; her sleeves rolledabove the elbows revealed rounded arms from which water dripped; herskirt was splashed; her blouse and hair were in disarray.
"There is none, _huzur_," said the _bearer_ in Hindustani. "Hourly is itexpected from Muktiarbad, but as yet it is not in sight."
"What is he saying?" she cried vaguely in her distress, refusing tobelieve that there was none, which the corroborating action of a handhad implied.
"No ice got it, Memsahib," volunteered the _khansaman_ in his bestEnglish, learned from a teacher in the Station bazaar. "Allfinish--melting fast--making saw-dust one porridge."
"No ice?--my God! My child will die if I cannot have ice." Shedisappeared within the tent, wringing her hands, leaving the servants tohold council together on what was the best course to pursue.
"Without doubt the little one is in a fit," ventured the cook. "Such issometimes the case when the teeth press their way through the gums."
"What folly," sneered the _khansaman_, "when the infant is barely threemonths old!"
"Without doubt it is a fit," the cook repeated, "else why the hot bath?Such is the treatment the doctor-_babu_ ordered for the son of AmirKhan, my relative in Benares when, from fever, his eyes fixed and hislimbs grew rigid."
"Thou speakest true words," said the waterman approaching the group invisible excitement. "To see the limbs twisting and the eyes strainedupward turns my stomach. Assuredly it will die--and the masteraway!--_ai ma!_--what a calamity!"
"It will die, and we shall all be blamed because there was no ice,"sighed the _bearer_ feeling the weight of his responsibility.
"God send that he be even now returning," prayed the _khansaman_devoutly. "The sun has long set, and any moment he may be here, for whocan shoot a leopard in the dark?"
"Tell Hosain to drive the _hawa-ghari_[4] quickly to the Station for thedoctor and the ice. If he meet not the ice cart on the road, let himborrow all they will lend him at the houses of the sahibs," said thecook. "_Jhut!_--lose no time. In these illnesses the life of a child isas the flicker of a candle. A breath, and it is out; and once dead, whocan restore it to life again?"
[Footnote 4: Motor-car.]
Servants ran to do his bidding while he returned to his pots and pans,anxious lest the roast should burn at the bottom of the pan, and thesoup boil over.
"For what dost thou concern thyself?" jeered an old watchman who stood aspectator of the scene. "All that thou cookest will be given to thesweeper's family. Who will eat of thy cooking tonight when the child islike to die?"
"Not the sweeper and his family, _bhai_,[5] but we of the kitchen shallhave a feast, have no fears." "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good,"was the essence of the cook's philosophy, and since there was noswine-flesh in the menu, there was no reason why Mohammedans should notenjoy the repast he was cooking for the Sahib's table. It was adispensation of Providence that had not made him at birth a Hindu likethe watchman, who took pride in the exclusiveness of his caste, yetfeasted on the sly, on things forbidden.
[Footnote 5: Brother.]
Inside the tent the lady and the ayah together ministered to the smallsufferer lying in the warm bath. The sympathetic servant supported thelight body which had relaxed its rigidity, while the mother bathed thebrows and head with cold water.
"He is better, ayah, don't you think?" asked Mrs. Meredith, dependent onthe woman's superior knowledge.
"Plenty better, Ma'am. Heaven is merciful."
"Or do you think he is dying? Don't lie to me."
"He not dying, oh, no! See that black round his mouth?--now fast going.This is what they call _bahose_."
"Thank God if it's only that. Children recover from fainting fits, don'tthey? Oh, ayah, I could not bear to lose my baby!" she cried in chokedaccents.
"Say not like that. Got is goot and the baba will live. Now take out ofthe water, dry, and keep head cool," said the woman whose experience inthe management of infants had gained her her present post at someconsiderable advantage to herself.
They placed the limp form, when dried, on the cool sheets in its criband hung upon its every breath.
"Barnes-_mem_ saying, when bad with fever, lap plenty hot place, bedgoot," the ayah remarked; "Barnes-_mem_," a former mistress, being astandard reference in nursery difficulties.
"Had she many children?"
"Children? My lort! Every year a child. She was plenty blest. One childfor every finger, and a grand-child older than her last. Master, heshake his head and say, 'Damn-damn,' but Barnes-_mem_, she say, 'Letcome; the Lort will provide.'"
"Were they all brought up in India?"
"In Calcutta they were born and grew up; no Darjeeling _pahar_;[6] noMunsuri _pahar_! All living; all plenty strong."
/> [Footnote 6: Mountains.]
"Yet most children cannot thrive out here--English, I mean."
"English Memsahib making much fuss, like there is no Got Almighty.Everywhere there is sickness, also in _pahar_."
Mrs. Meredith shivered at the cold consolation. After a short intervalspent in anxious suspense, a clatter of hoofs announced the return ofthe Sahib. Raymond Meredith galloped into the camp and flinging hisreins to a _saice_, leaped to the ground. A messenger had met him on theroad with the disturbing news of his infant's bad turn. In anothermoment he was beside his wife, eagerly sympathetic and anxious tocomfort her.
At any other time she would have received him affectionately upon hisreturn from a long day's outing, and he marked the change, excusing iton the plea of anxiety and distraction.
"This is very sudden, darling," he said in lowered tones, placing hisarms tenderly about her. "How did it happen?"
His wife explained emotionally. "Baby was feverish when you left. Youremember, perhaps, that I was worried and did not like being leftalone?" she concluded resentfully, her eyes refusing to meet his.
"He seemed a bit out of sorts, but nothing to alarm one," her husbandallowed in self-defence. "You know, sweetheart, you are often needlesslyanxious." He would have kissed her to soften the reproach, but sheturned her face aside. "Anyhow, I had to go, you know that? The leopardhad done enough damage in the village and was a danger to human life. Aninfant had been carried off from the doorway of its dwelling the momentits mother's back was turned. I simply had to hunt and shoot the beast,or let the people think I funked it. I managed to bag it in the end, butthe fellow gave us a devil of a time," he continued, warming to hissubject. "Had it not been for the pluck of the _chaukidar_, I mightnever have returned at all--" He waited for some evidence of concern."He's a fine sportsman," he went on, though disappointed at her lack ofinterest. "With only a stout stick in his hand, he--" his voice trailedaway as he became convinced that he was talking to an inattentive mind."Don't worry, I'll send post-haste for Dalton. He'll be here beforemorning."
"Anything might happen before morning," she cried brokenly.
"You mustn't be so pessimistic."
"The car was sent for the doctor when Baby was in convulsions," she saidcoldly. "It was terrible not having you here to advise. I have beendesperate, and you--" a sob--"you were enjoying yourself in thejungles." She had not an atom of sympathy for the sport.
"Surely you are not blaming me?" he cried deprecatingly, afraid that hehad injured himself for ever in her sight.
"It is not a question of blame; you have failed me, that is all."
"That's a cruel thing to say, dearest!" he cried kissing herunresponsive lips at last, in the hopes of melting her hardness. "It isonly that you are in a mood to be unjust, that you say so. You know I amhappiest with you."
"This is a cruel country which I shall hate to the end of my days," shereturned miserably. "It is trying at every turn to rob me of my littlebaby."
Meredith winced almost as though he had been struck. It was not thefirst time that she had expressed disgust for her life in India, whichgave them their living, and every time her words gained in feeling.Early in the summer he had sent her to the hills because of an episodewith a snake that had unnerved her and imperilled her condition as anexpectant mother. He had not forgotten that her first arrival at theStation had synchronised with an outbreak of cholera, so virulent, thathalf the community of Europeans among whom she was to live weredemoralised. It was a crying shame that Life should be so perverse. Heyearned for her to settle down and take kindly to Station ways anddoings, but fate eternally intervened. Muktiarbad was a merry littlestation, full of friendly souls eager to accept the youthful bride as asocial leader for her husband's sake, he being the most popular of men.
Meredith was aware of his own popularity and enjoyed it as ahealthy-minded individual usually does when success has crowned hisefforts to govern a large District with sympathy and tact. But alreadythe young wife and mother was pining for "home," and was declaring thatthe India he loved was a "cruel country," which she would hate to theend of her days. How should he be able to pin her down to his side in aland she detested and feared? She was too young and uninformed toappreciate his position in the Government and her possibilities as a_Bara Memsahib_; and too delicately nurtured to endure the rough andtumble of life far from towns and cities, where money could not buyimmunity from inconvenience and climatic ills.
He had expected, as many another husband of a very young wife, to mouldher ideas to fit his own; instead, his peace of mind was being steadilywhittled away.
"There is not even any ice to be had in this God-forsaken spot!" hiswife's voice was saying helplessly.
"Damnation!" he swore under his breath, enraged that the servants shouldhave supplied him at the cost of the child; for he recalled the veryacceptable iced beer he had drunk in the jungles after a dangerousexploit that had exhausted his energies and reduced him to a perspiringrag of humanity, even though it was autumn.
The urgent need to find a scapegoat to suffer for this miserable muddlesent him outside with a stride and malignant intentions at heart. Neveragain while he toured with his family would he drink iced stimulants,however damnably hot it was in the sun.
"What can I say?" whined the _bearer_ in indignant sympathy, cleverlyaverting the storm he saw ready to descend on the head of the guilty."Such unusual heat for this time of the year, and that swine, thecarter, who is now many miles distant, left the ice-box on the sunnyside of the tent! Without sense is he, and possessed of a mind equalonly to that of a sheep. So much shade to be had, yet of a perversitymust he commit this brainless act! What can I do? Had this pair of handsnot been incessantly occupied in performing urgent tasks for the comfortof the Memsahib, I might have cast eyes on the packing-case earlier, andmyself have removed it to safety. But alas! how much can one poorservant do among so many who are idle and indifferent? So there it layout of sight and the water running freely through the joins till therewas one tank, and my bedding beside it, floating! Tonight I am withoutbedding, but what of that? With the child ill, will any one care tosleep?" He cast a triumphant eye around on a semicircle of admiringfellow-servants who were envying him his resourcefulness and powers ofinvention.
"Who sent ice with me into the jungles?" Meredith asked fiercely.
"Who, indeed, Image-of-God? Such an act of folly while the tender babelay sick is not to be forgiven. Peradventure, it was the mate-boy of thecook who is of an imbecility past understanding, owing to his extremeyouth. Not even the intellect of a cow has he. _Urre bap!_ Did he notleave at the Rest Bungalow----"
"Be silent, you talk too much," said Meredith. "Go and chastise him forhis interference. If I strike him I shall break every bone in his body.Never again let ice be sent anywhere with me if it is likely to runshort at the camp, remember that," he said, impressing the fact on the_bearer_, as he knew full well that, in the native mind, very littleimportance is attached to a woman's needs in comparison with herlord's,--the superiority of the masculine sex being unchallenged. Whenice travelled by rail some hundreds of miles three times a week toMuktiarbad, it invariably fell short when the servants were careless orassisted to make it vanish. Every silent witness of the colloquy knewthat the Sahib's _bearer_ considered an iced whisky-and-soda hisperquisite at the close of a strenuous day, and would continue to haveit as long as ice came from Calcutta for the alleviation of sufferersfrom the climate.
"Buck up, darling," said Meredith comfortingly, "you'll have the doctorhere in no time. Dalton is a clever fellow and prompt. They say he willmake a name for himself some day, he's such an able physician andsurgeon. What he doesn't understand concerning the ills that flesh isheir to is not worth knowing, so we are jolly lucky to have him in sucha potty little station as ours. What got him sent here is a mystery;usually we get fossils of the Uncovenanted service at Muktiarbad,whereas Dalton is--" "Sorry," interrupting himself as his wife put herhands to her head. "You've a headache, s
weetheart, and it's not to bewondered at."
"Is there nothing you can suggest for Baby in the meantime?" shequestioned.
"I shouldn't like to experiment, knowing nothing of kids--infants, Imean," he replied with irritating cheerfulness. "Had it been a horse ora dog"--he discreetly ceased and made tender love to her instead, forhis darling girl was sobbing piteously. "Don't worry," he advised withmasculine lack of understanding of maternal feelings, "babies aremarvellous creatures; like sponges, my dear. Squeeze them dry and theyswell out again. See how the youngsters swarm in the bazaars andvillages. Nothing seems to kill them," he asserted ignorantly. "They getover almost any illness without a hundredth part of the care you lavishon our little scallywag. Keep his head cool and you'll see, he'll be asright as rain in the morning."
"Cool without ice!" she said witheringly.
"Cold water on the head with a dash of vinegar in it will do to carryalong with till the ice comes."
Somehow he was less concerned with the child's case than his wife's. Herdistress, the added reason for her abhorrence of India, cut him to theheart and made him a coward of consequences. It was the child, thatinsignificant atom of indefinite humanity, that had intruded itselfbetween them and was daily usurping his place in his wife's thoughts. Atfirst he had been fool enough to imagine that it was going to be thelink that would bind them closer together, instead of which it was thewedge that was surely driving them asunder. For its sake she was readyto put the seas and continents between them, and treat him as if he wereof secondary importance in her life--the being who had to provide thewherewithal on which the human idol might be suitably reared. His ownpersonal need of her was viewed as masculine self-indulgence and lack ofspirituality.
"I don't think you half realise what a wonderful thing has happened,"she had once said in the midst of her baby-worship. "Here is a miraclestraight from God. A man-child who, if properly cared for, will become auseful citizen of the Empire; and he is my VERY OWN--yours, too," shecondescended to add with her exquisite smile.
"But where do I come in? I, who am already a useful citizen of theEmpire?" he had delicately insinuated. "With due regard to nature andthe multiplication table----"
She had considered him coarse and had refused to smile. The matter of afamily was entirely in God's hands and not to be treated with levity. Hecould have added a rider to that, but refrained; she was only a littlegirl of nineteen lacking the logical sense in the usual, adorable,feminine way. He was not hankering considerably after a family in theplural sense when in imagination he could see an intensification of thepresent situation which was forcing him into the background of domesticlife. The baby, waking and sleeping, and all its multifarious concernsoccupied its mother's time to the exclusion of all else, and it was nowonder that the father was feeling injured and a trifle lonely.
Yet, in her childish way, she was fond of him, while unconsciouslylearning from him that, after all, men were truly long-suffering andunselfish creatures, patient, and forgiving.
So he possessed his soul in patience, never tired of recalling thesupreme episode of their married life, when, after the birth of theirson, she had embraced him with a new affection, spontaneous and sincere.She had been so utterly ill that for a day and a night her life had hungin the balance, while he, like a maniac, had paced the footpath in mistand rain, praying as he had never prayed before for her restoration. Itwas in Darjeeling where he had gone hurriedly on receipt of a telegram,and never should he forget the anxieties of that journey. He had beenready to register any vow under the sun that he might ensure herrecovery; and when he had crept with broken nerve and sobbing breath toher bedside, she had clung to his neck with blessed demonstrativenesskissing him of her own accord on the lips. Generally, he had kissed her.
"You love me still, my precious?" he had asked fearfully. Mark the"still," for by her agony he was ready to believe he had forfeited theright to her love.
"Aren't you my baby's Daddy?" she had replied happily with shining eyesand quivering mouth. "Of course I shall love you better now than ever."
She loved him only through the child! However, Meredith did not quarrelwith the process, so long as the fact was full of promise. It had alwaysbeen a calm and unemotional affection, not in the least of the qualityhe craved, but his love and patience were equal to the demand made uponthem, his mind having realised the unawakened condition of hers. "Allthings come to those who know how to wait," and he was learningpatience, for his life was wrapped up in the person of his girl-wife.She was so infinitely lovable even when least comprehending his man'snature and holding herself aloof. Again, her charm was indescribablewhen, with adorable grace, she offered compensation, sorry for heruncomprehending selfishness; and he eternally rejoiced that, by the lawof marriage, she was irrevocably his till death should them part, abondage which he endeavoured to make her Eden, as it was his.