第43章

"It is for that some of us have lived." Barney's deep voice, thrilling with sad and tender feeling, brought the quick tears to Iola's eyes. To her, the words had in them the sound of farewell.

Even Mrs. Duff Charrington was touched. She leaned over the carriage door toward him.

"Mr. Boyle, I am taking Miss Lane home to dinner. Come with us."

Barney felt the kindly tone. "Thank you, Mrs. Charrington, it would give none of us pleasure, and I have much to do. I am leaving to-morrow for Baltimore."

Iola could not check a quick gasp. Mrs. Duff Charrington glanced at her white face.

"Young man," she said sternly, leaning out toward him and looking Barney in the eyes, "don't be a fool. The man that would, from pique, willingly hurt a friend is a mean and cruel coward."

"Mrs. Charrington," replied Barney in a steady voice, "I have just come from an operation by which a little girl, an only child, has lost her arm. It was the mother that desired it, not from cruelty, but from love. It is because it is best, that I go to-morrow.

Good-bye." Then turning to Iola he said, "I shall see you to-night." He lifted his hat and turned away."

"Drive home, Smith," said Mrs. Charrington sharply; "the others will find their way."

"Take me home," whispered Iola, with dry lips.

"Do you love him?" said Mrs. Duff Charrington, taking the girl's hand in hers.

"Ah, yes. I never knew how much."

"Tut! tut! child, the world still moves. Baltimore is not so far and he is only a man." Mrs. Duff Charrington's tone did not indicate a high opinion of the masculine section of humanity.

"You'll just come with me for dinner and then I shall send you home. Thank God, we can still eat."

For some minutes they drove along in silence.

"Yes," said Mrs. Charrington, following up the line of her thought, "that's a man for you--thinks the whole world moves round the axis of his own life. But I like him. He has a good face. Still," she mused, "a man isn't everything, although once I--but never mind, there is always a way of bringing them to time."

"You don't know Barney, Mrs. Charrington," said Iola; "nothing can ever change him."

"Pish! You think so, and so, doubtless, does he. But none the less it is sheer nonsense. Can you tell me the trouble?"

"No, I think not," said Iola softly.

"Very well. As you like, my dear. Few things are the better for words. If ever you wish to come to me I shall be ready. Now let us dismiss the thing till after dinner. Disagreeable thoughts hinder digestion, I have found, and nothing is quite worth that."

With such resolution did she follow her own suggestion that, during the drive and throughout the dinner hour and, indeed, until the moment of her departure, Iola was not permitted to indulge her anxious thoughts, but with Mrs. Duff Charrington's assistance she succeeded in keeping them deep in her heart under guard.

As Mrs. Duff Charrington kissed her good-night she whispered:

"Don't face any issue to-night. Don't settle anything. Give time a chance. Time is a wonderfully wise old party."

And Iola, sitting back in the carriage, decided she would act upon the advice which suited so thoroughly her own habit of mind. That Barney had made up his mind to a line of action she knew. She would set herself to gain time, and yet she was fearful of the issue of the interview before her. The fear and anxiety which she had been holding down for the last two hours came over her in floods. As she thought of Barney's last words she found herself searching wildly, but in vain, for motives with which to brace her strength. If he had only been angry! But that sad, tender solicitude in his voice unnerved her. He was not thinking of himself, she knew. He was, as ever, thinking of and for her.

A storm of wind and rain was rapidly drawing on, but she heeded not the big drops driving into her face, nor did she notice that before she reached her door she was quite wet. She found Barney waiting for her. As she entered he arose and stood silent.

"Barney!" she exclaimed, and paused, waiting. But there was no reply.

"Oh, Barney!" she cried again, her voice quivering, "won't you tell me to come?"

"Come," he said, holding out his arms.

With a little cry of timid joy she ran to him, wreathed her arms about his neck, and clung sobbing. For some moments he held her fast, gently caressing with his hand her face and her beautiful hair till she grew quiet. Then disengaging her arms, he kissed her with grave tenderness and put her away from him.

"Go and take off your wet things first," he said.

"Say you forgive me, Barney," she whispered, putting her arms again about his neck.

"That's not the word," he replied sadly; "there's nothing to forgive. Go, now!"

She hurried away, praying that Barney's mood might not change. If she could only get her arms about his neck she could win and hold him, and, what was far more important, she could conquer herself, for great as she knew her love to be, she was fully aware of the hold her ambition had upon her and she dreaded lest that influence should become dominant in this hour. She knew well their souls would reach each other's secrets, and according to that reading the issue would be.