"Please pardon my intrusion, Miss Maurine, I called to ask Miss Trevor for a book She spoke of lending me; nay, sit you still, And I, by grant of your permission, will Pass by to where I hear her playing."
"Stay,"
I said, "one moment, Vivian, if you please;" And suddenly bereft of all my ease, And scarcely knowing what to do or say, Confused as any schoolgirl, I arose, And some way made each to the other known.
They bowed, shook hands, then Vivian turned away And sought out Helen, leaving us alone.
"One of Miss Trevor's or of Maurine's beaux?
Which may he be, who cometh like a prince With haughty bearing and an eagle eye?"
Roy queried, laughing; and I answered, "Since You saw him pass me for Miss Trevor's side, I leave your own good judgment to reply."
And straightway caused the tide of talk to glide In other channels, striving to dispel The sudden gloom that o'er my spirit fell.
We mortals are such hypocrites at best!
When Conscience tries our courage with a test, And points to some steep pathway, we set out Boldly, denying any fear or doubt; But pause before the first rock in the way, And, looking back, with tears, at Conscience, say:
"We are so sad, dear Conscience! for we would Most gladly do what to thee seemeth good; But lo! this rock! we cannot climb it, so Thou must point out some other way to go."
Yet secretly we are rejoicing: and, When right before our faces, as we stand In seeming grief, the rock is cleft in twain, Leaving the pathway clear, we shrink in pain, And, loth to go, by every act reveal What we so tried from Conscience to conceal.
I saw that hour, the way made plain, to do With scarce an effort what had seemed a strife That would require the strength of my whole life.
Women have quick perceptions, and I knew That Vivian's heart was full of jealous pain, Suspecting--nay, BELIEVING--Roy Montaine To be my lover. First my altered mien - And next the letter--then the doorway scene - My flushed face gazing in the one above That bent so near me, and my strange confusion When Vivian came all led to one conclusion:
That I had but been playing with his love, As women sometimes cruelly do play With hearts when their true lovers are away.
There could be nothing easier than just To let him linger on in this belief Till hourly-fed Suspicion and Distrust Should turn to scorn and anger all his grief.
Compared with me, so doubly sweet and pure Would Helen seem, my purpose would be sure And certain of completion in the end.
But now, the way was made so straight and clear, My coward heart shrank back in guilty fear, Till Conscience whispered with her "still small voice," "The precious time is passing--make thy choice - Resign thy love, or slay thy trusting friend."
The growing moon, watched by the myriad eyes Of countless stars, went sailing through the skies, Like some young prince, rising to rule a nation, To whom all eyes are turned in expectation.
A woman who possesses tact and art And strength of will can take the hand of doom, And walk on, smiling sweetly as she goes, With rosy lips, and rounded cheeks of bloom, Cheating a loud-tongued world that never knows The pain and sorrow of her hidden heart.
And so I joined in Roy's bright changing chat; Answered his sallies--talked of this and that, My brow unruffled as the calm, still wave That tells not of the wrecked ship, and the grave Beneath its surface.
Then we heard, ere long, The sound of Helen's gentle voice in song, And, rising, entered where the subtle power Of Vivian's eyes, forgiving while accusing, Finding me weak, had won me, in that hour; But Roy, always polite and debonair Where ladies were, now hung about my chair With nameless delicate attentions, using That air devotional, and those small arts Acquaintance with society imparts To men gallant by nature.
'Twas my *** And not myself he bowed to. Had my place Been filled that evening by a dowager Twice his own age, he would have given her The same attentions. But they served to vex Whatever hope in Vivian's heart remained.
The cold, white look crept back upon his face, Which told how deeply he was hurt and pained.
Little by little all things had conspired To bring events I dreaded, yet desired.
We were in constant intercourse: walks, rides, Picnics and sails, filled weeks of golden weather, And almost hourly we were thrown together.
No words were spoken of rebuke or scorn:
Good friends we seemed. But as a gulf divides This land and that, though lying side by side, So rolled a gulf between us--deep and wide - The gulf of doubt, which widened slowly morn And noon and night.
Free and informal were These picnics and excursions. Yet, although Helen and I would sometimes choose to go Without our escorts, leaving them quite free, It happened alway Roy would seek out me Ere passed the day, while Vivian walked with her.
I had no thought of flirting. Roy was just Like some dear brother, and I quite forgot The kinship was so distant it was not Safe to rely upon in perfect trust, Without reserve or caution. Many a time, When there was some steep mountain-side to climb And I grew weary, he would say, "Maurine, Come rest you here." And I would go and lean My head upon his shoulder, or would stand And let him hold in his my willing hand, The while he stroked it gently with his own.
Or I would let him clasp me with his arm, Nor entertained a thought of any harm, Nor once supposed but Vivian was alone In his suspicions. But ere long the truth I learned in consternation! both Aunt Ruth And Helen honestly, in faith, believed That Roy and I were lovers.