Love, sacred love, how sweet thy will—
How perfect thy entrancing bliss—
What purer joy our hearts could thrill—
What rapture soothe our souls like this?
In a common cause of suffering or rejoicing, social distinction is frequently forgotten,—thus, over Stella's safe return friends, relatives and servants vied with one another in expressions of joy and gratitude, and even touched each other's hands in an outburst of heartfelt congratulation.
To Mrs. Sinclair, Stella related every detail of her most astonishing experience, and the tears she shed over Julia Webber's awful death were the proofs of genuine love and tender remembrance.
It is true that Julia Webber had insisted upon her imprisonment for eight long months, but from what had she not saved her!
Of Maurice's whereabouts she knew as little as did Mrs. Sinclair, and after the first recital his name was never mentioned between them. To her faithful friend, Sir Frederic Atherton, Mrs. Sinclair repeated Stella's story, but between the two no mention of the matter was ever made.
In her perfect innocence, it never occurred to Stella that her imprisonment in Julia Webber's house was anything more than unfortunate and humiliating, and if any more disagreeable thought entered Sir Frederic's mind it was promptly banished as an unworthy suggestion of a worldly education.
During the weeks of convalescence through which Stella passed after the shock of that evening's disaster, Mrs. Sinclair scarcely left her side. The two were inseparable, and during the long winter evenings they would sit before the blazing, open fire, which was always to be found in Mrs. Sinclair's cosy sitting-room on chilly nights, Mrs. Sinclair in the comfortable rocker with Stella's golden head pillowed lovingly upon her knee, while the young girl sat in graceful comfort on the heavy hearth-rug, or a convenient ottoman.
The sorrowful days had left their traces on Mrs. Sinclair's raven locks, and in the shadows about her eyes, but an expression of supreme thankfulness shone on her face as her eyes rested lovingly on Stella's wavy hair. Only now and then when silence fell upon the air, the sweet mouth curved in lines of sadness, and her motherly eyes seemed trying to pierce the clouds of uncertainty and apprehension that closed around her at every unfamiliar step or voice.
It was as if she looked and listened for a nameless something while she dreaded its coming with a mighty dread. Even now, when a card was handed her by the servant, her hand shook perceptibly as she took it from the salver. A look reassured her, and smiling into Stella's upturned face, she said, "It is Sir Frederic, love, shall we have him right up here?"
"Certainly, mamma if you wish," was the simple response, but in some way the face that a moment before was demure and white as the lily, is now flushed and brimming with joy like the heart of an opening rose.
Rising, she had only time to seat herself decorously on the comfortable sofa when Sir Frederic entered.
"Ah, Sir Frederic, I am more than glad to see you this evening," said Mrs. Sinclair, as she gave him her hand in greeting.
"And I," responded he, "have been counting the moments since dinner in my eagerness to come and yet not presume upon your hospitality by the earliness of my appearance."
Then turning, he continued with a sudden rush of tenderness in his tones, "and you, Miss Stella, are glad to see me?" He was so absorbed in the contemplation of her face and his eagerness to hear her answer, that Mrs. Sinclair's somewhat unceremonious exit from the room was unnoticed.
Stella smiled, and giving him her hand, said softly, "I am very glad, Sir Frederic, it is always a pleasure to see you, but to-night,"—here her eyes filled with tears, "is the anniversary of all our trouble, and you have been our best and dearest friend, mamma's and mine. I don't know what we should have done without you," here her voice grew fainter as she continued, brokenly, "I don't know what I,"—
She could not go on, and Sir Frederic, placing his arm tenderly about her, pillowed her head upon his breast while he whispered gently, "You shall never do without me again, little one, for indeed I cannot live longer without you. I may not tell my love prettily, Stella, for I am little versed in that pleasing art, but if a life of untiring devotion can speak my love, I will gladly give you that. Look up dear heart, and tell me that you will give yourself to me forever."
But Stella did not look up. Instead, she nestled her head deeper in his arms, but as his lips touched her shining hair, he murmured with a satisfied and radiant smile, "my darling, my wife."
To a man of forty who has lived his life unsinged by passion's blaze, and unblinded by young love's delusion, the blessing of a woman's love brings peace and happiness, almost too great for human understanding. All the currents of his soul go[Pg 131] out to her, and the restless rivers of his mighty nature find peace at last in the unfathomable ocean of her love.
Thus it was during the first sweet hour of their betrothal. In Sir Frederic's heart the calm of a great joy followed like a summer cloud upon the path of a sorrowful tempest.
Not so with Stella, however, for with the first great rush of joy on knowing that she was so beloved, her very identity, past, present and future, seemed lost in his. A glorious panorama of heavenly sights and entrancing music burst upon her vision.
Self was lost in the whirlpool of future joys and duties, and the only object that stood clear before her eyes was the form of her heart's beloved, and to him she clung with all the fond abandon of her simple trusting nature.
Body and soul she gave herself to her lover, as woman can only give herself once in the period of her existence, and in deeply reverential spirit, Sir Frederic received the precious gift and cherished it forever.
It was Mrs. Sinclair's voice at the door that at last recalled the lovers to a vague consideration of things earthly.
The eyes of an indifferent observer could hardly have misunderstood the situation, and Mrs. Sinclair only glanced into Stella's face and in another second her darling was in her arms and both were laughing and crying in true woman fashion.