I'm rather--patriotic. It's only we who live away from England who really love it. I'm so proud of my country, and I wanted so much to do something for it. Often in Africa I've thought of this dear England and longed not to die till I had done my work.'
His voice shook a little, and he paused. It seemed to Julia that she saw the man for the first time, and she wished passionately that Lucy could hear those words of his which he spoke so shyly, and yet with such a passionate earnestness.
'Behind all the soldiers and the statesmen whose fame is imperishable there is a long line of men who've built up the empire piece by piece. Their names are forgotten, and only students know their history, but each one of them gave a province to his country. And I too have my place among them. Year after year I toiled, night and day, and at last I was able to hand over to the commissioner a broad tract of land, rich and fertile. After my death England will forget my faults and my mistakes; and I care nothing for the flouts and gibes with which she has repaid all my pain, for I have added another fair jewel to her crown. I don't want rewards; I only want the honour of serving this dear land of ours.'
Julia went up to him and laid her hand gently on his arm.
'Why is it, when you're so nice really, that you do all you can to make people think you utterly horrid?'
'Don't laugh at me because you've found out that at bottom I'm nothing more than a sentimental old woman.'
'I don't want to laugh at you. But if I didn't think it would embarrass you so dreadfully, I should certainly kiss you.'
He smiled and lifting her hand to his lips, lightly kissed it.
'I shall begin to think I'm a very wonderful woman if I've taught you to do such pretty things as that.'
She made him sit down, and then she sat by his side.
'I'm very glad you came to-day. I wanted to talk to you. Will you be very angry if I say something to you?'
'I don't think so,' he smiled.
'I want to speak to you about Lucy.'
He drew himself suddenly together, and the expansion of his mood disappeared. He was once more the cold, reserved man of their habitual intercourse.
'I'd rather you didn't,' he said briefly.
But Julia was not to be so easily put off.
'What would you do if she came here to-day?' she asked.
He turned round and looked at her sharply, then answered with great deliberation.
'I have always lived in polite society. I should never dream of outraging its conventions. If Lucy happened to come, you may be sure that I should be scrupulously polite.'
'Is that all?' she cried.
He did not answer, and into his face came a wild fierceness that appalled her. She saw the effort he was making at self-control. She wished with all her heart that he would be less brave.
'I think you might not be so hard if you knew how desperately Lucy has suffered.'
He looked at her again, and his eyes were filled with bitterness, with angry passion at the injustice of fate. Did she think that he had not suffered? Because he did not whine his misery to all and sundry, did she think he did not care? He sprang up and walked to the other end of the room. He did not want that woman, for all her kindness, to see his face. He was not the man to fall in and out of love with every pretty girl he met. All his life he had kept an ideal before his eyes. He turned to Julia savagely.
'You don't know what it meant to me to fall in love. I felt that I had lived all my life in a prison, and at last Lucy came and took me by the hand, and led me out. And for the first time I breathed the free air of heaven.'
He stopped abruptly, clenching his jaws. He would not tell her how bitterly he had suffered for it, he would not tell her of his angry rebelliousness because all that pain should have come to him. He wanted nobody to know the depths of his agony and of his despair. But he would not give way. He felt that, if he did not keep a tight hold on himself, he would break down and shake with passionate sobbing. He felt a sudden flash of hatred for Julia because she sat there and watched his weakness. But as though she saw at what a crisis of emotion he was, Julia turned her eyes from him and looked down at the ground. She did not speak. She felt the effort he was making to master himself, and she was infinitely disturbed. She wanted to go to him and comfort him, but she knew he would repel her. He wanted to fight his battle unaided.
At last he conquered, but when he spoke again, his voice was singularly broken. It was hoarse and low.
'My love was the last human weakness I had. It was right that I should drink that bitter cup. And I've drunk its very dregs. I should have known that I wasn't meant for happiness and a life of ease. I have other work to do in the world.'
He paused for a moment, and his calmness was restored to him.
'And now that I've overcome this last temptation I am ready to do it.'
'But haven't you any pity for yourself? Haven't you any thought for Lucy?'
'Must I tell you, too, that everything I did was for Lucy's sake? And still I love her with all my heart and soul.'
There was no bitterness in his tone now; it was gentle and resigned. He had, indeed, won the battle. Julia's eyes were filled with tears, and she could not answer. He came forward and shook hands with her.
'You mustn't cry,' he said, smiling. 'You're one of those persons whose part it is to bring sunshine into the lives of those with less fortunate dispositions. You must always be happy and childlike.'
'I've got lots of handkerchiefs, thanks,' she sobbed, laughing the while.
'You must forget all the nonsense I've talked to you,' he said.
He smiled once more and was gone.
Dick was sitting in his bedroom, reading an evening paper, and she flung herself sobbing into his arms.
'Oh, Dick, I've had such a lovely cry, and I'm so happy and so utterly wretched. And I'm sure I shall have a red nose.'
'Darling, I've long discovered that you only weep because you're the only person in the world to whom it's thoroughly becoming.'
'Don't be horrid and unsympathetic. I think Alec MacKenzie's a perfect dear. I wanted to kiss him, only I was afraid it would frighten him to death.'
'I'm glad you didn't. He would have thought you a forward hussy.'
'I wish I could have married him, too,' cried Julia, 'I'm sure he'd make a nice husband.'
XXI
The days went by, spent by Alec in making necessary preparations for his journey, spent by Lucy in sickening anxiety. The last two months had been passed by her in a conflict of emotions. Love had planted itself in her heart like a great forest tree, and none of the storms that had assailed it seemed to have power to shake its stubborn roots. Season, common decency, shame, had lost their power. She had prayed God that a merciful death might free her from the dreadful uncertainty. She was spiritless and cowed. She despised herself for her weakness. And sometimes she rebelled against the fate that crushed her with such misfortunes; she had tried to do her duty always, acting humbly according to her lights, and yet everything she was concerned in crumbled away to powder at her touch. She, too, began to think that she was not meant for happiness. She knew that she ought to hate Alec, but she could not. She knew that his action should fill her with nameless horror, but against her will she could not believe that he was false and wicked. One thing she was determined on, and that was to keep her word to Robert Boulger; but he himself gave her back her freedom.
He came to her one day, and after a little casual