The Transvaal from Within: A Private Record of Public Affairs

it was

over and done with, Philip. Stea

r to hold her quite all the grief that lay upon him as he made his way along the ill-lit streets. There

he had done the night before. The nurse walked softly past the sleepers with her shaded lamp, and once or twice he spoke to her. And when, the doctor's duties done

elf-reproach, thinking it had been very hard of him to wish to neglect his mother in order to spare awkwardness to another woman. His repugnance to the task was deep-ro

d feared, however, was avert

n to-day; Mary had told her of his call the pr

he said; "has the n

er it, that's all. Is ther

"No, dear. I don't know that

she said; "I thought that

cid questions now rankled a little wistfulness, in feeling that she was not held dear enough for confidence. She wanted to say to him outright: "Philip, did you tell Miss Brettan you were fond of her when I was upstairs last night

while he admitted that it was imperative to keep the secret from her; and perhaps the mother's h

sighed. She heard the sigh, and could have echoed it, thinking sadly that the presence of her companion was required now to make her society endurable to him. But she would not refer to

must go, and she did n

ack this afternoon

know what you have to d

e she did not return his kiss. She gave him her cheek, a

e that he did not remark the absence of the

-work drooped to her lap, and she sat recalling a little boy who had been used to talk of the wondrous things he was going to do for "mo

made the need for surmises seem harder. And Philip was unhappy: her companion must be indifferent to him; nothing but that could account for the unh

asy to hide, or perhaps Mary's nervousness made her unduly sensitive, but there were pauses which seemed to her significant of condemnation. She was exceedingly uncomfortable during this week. Sometimes she was only deterred

y a flow of small-talk; his life had not qualified him for it; and it was an ordeal to him to sit there in the presence of Mary and witness attempts in which he perceived himself unqualified to co-operate. His knowledge that the simulated

r son from her side. The pauses became more frequent, and, to Mary, more than ever ominous. Indeed, while the mother mused mournfully on the consequences of her engagement, the companion herself was questioning how long she could expect to retain it. She began to consider whether she should relinquish it, to elude the indignity of a dismissal. And even if Mrs. Kincaid did fail to suspect the reason for her son's absenting himself, the responsibility was the same, she reflected. It was she who divided the pai

an experience which engulfed so much of her sensibility, that she had emerged from it a different being. Kincaid's rival, in truth, was the most powerful one that can ever oppose a lover;

g now; but such an opportunity was not easy to gain, for when he did come his mother of course was present. She thought

It was on a Sunday morning. Mary was standing before the window, loo

g to church?

there's plenty of

not ten. What a lovely da

nted the ot

short silenc

Dr. Kincaid by going out; I need

an of testiness, that after the instant's dis

arcely his own, is it?

y, and the delay seemed to Mary to ac

if he were able to leave the hospital

o come often; why sho

falter

not to have him with you more than an hour in a month. I don't see much more of him than that, lately. The last time he came, he stayed twe

iced it," M

cried inwardly, with a sinking of

ybody; the reason may be very strong indeed. Only it seems rather unfair tha

you felt his absence so keenly, you may be sure he'd try t

affair. At my age we begin to see that our children have rights we mustn't intrude into-secrets that must be told to us freely, or not told at all. We

ly after dinner Mrs. Kincaid went into the garden, and, left to her own devices in the parlour, Mary drew her chair to the escritoire. She would write a few lines, she thought, however clumsy, and send them at once. Still, they were not easy lines to produce, and

ll means;

erhaps you m

; "I shall get along ve

r some time, busying herself among the violets, and

ding across her shoulder;

the beach. Then it struck her that the doctor might pay his overdue visit this afternoon, and she was sorry that she had gone out. The laboured letter might have been dispensed with-she mi

your walk-you haven't

changed my mind. How di

the wet ground, which wasn't any

ng you a little, I think; she

"I'm very sorry

e she misses you. As a matter of fact, I

What-abo

es

ver supposed she'd miss me like

ut it before. I have seen for

said an

d it this morning,

f you," he repeated

nsciousness of suppression; and af

y with any idea of sparing embarras

said, "I thought you'd

's house? You must see ... the responsibility of it! What I sh

to intrude my t

t to speak to, you plainly. I have thought that perhaps it hurt you to c

ce and womanly of you, but you are making yourself unhappy for nothing.

leasanter for you to stay away than to go there and see me, my course is cle

idea. Don't let's stand here! Do you mind turning back a little way? If what I sai

street; and during a minute ea

's companion is quite wrong! If I weren't in the house you'd

the same as I used

she m

that sati

you'd rather not; and the cause of y

fenced; "I've not said I am reluctant. I thought you

I've not seen? I know very wel

orry to you," he said humbly; "I

the fault is my own. I ought to have resign

You must understand that a change like that was

sensation in uttering it. The sound of it was loud to both of them. But to her it

ondered if I was justified in asking you to give up a comfortable living for such a home as I could offer; I considered half a dozen things; but that I might be

know the right thing is for me to go away; your mother would have you then as she ought to ha

k she does?"

an she feel towards me? It's only the affection s

e said. "'Disc

ur mother's companion, a woman you had never seen two years ago. It woul

returned unsteadily; "I'd rather have known you as

y very life to meeting you; that's why the result of it is so abominable-such a shame! I haven'

d's sake!"

make you unhappy-and h

of her emotion was more painful. He had never felt the hopelessness of his attachment so heavy on him as now that he saw her disturbed on account of it, and realised at the same time that

ou'd make me unh

is; and after a glance

with the best intentions, I've only succeeded in giving annoyance to you both. But the wrong to my mother can be

sure about it. I

responsible for my seeing her so seldom; I

lip. She s

do any mo

she co

hat's th

tter is

ha

lainly every minute

by himself, had been fighting against him was the hardest thing that he had had to bear. Sensible that every remonstrance that escaped him would estrang

e oftener, our talk

by the porch, and looked at her. "

red, "don't say

my assurance that I'd never bring distress to you, and I've brought distress. Let's look the thing squarely in the eyes: you, won't be my

ill too near to be wholly beautiful, rose suddenly in a hymn. She stood with averted face, st

less right to interfere; but as it is, your leaving would mean a constant shame to me. All the time I should be thinking: 'She was at peace in a home, and you drove her out from it!' To see the woman he cares

oritatively. "We must co

nd in the shelter of the porch both were thought

ve woman at the best. If I do what is right, I may give you pain for a little w

er happiness, but not your own.

ut me are true enough; but you are principally anxious for me to stop that you may still see me. And wha

et, whether you sto

t is as if you had never known me. I won't be burdened w

e said ap

cruel! I wish to God I ha

, not a sign shall tell you I'm waiting; but by-and-by-will it be always impossible? Dearest, it holds me so fast, my love of you. Don't be harsher than you need; it's so real, so deep.

aid thickly; "it

for me-not so much as

ching the restless working of her hands in her lap. The closing words of the hymn came out dis

shall respect your confidence. Is it

aid vehemently,

one you like better, you'll be the w

nlightened would be a wrong that she dared not contemplate; and under the necessity for proclaiming that her sentiments could nev

Kinca

es to her, and t

make you sorry for telling me that. You've

ice, "it makes no difference. How am I

I should u

aken. Never in the world, so long as

fairness, let us have clearness and truth! You

are. I don't-we neither care; he doesn't know if I a

re going to tell m

were piercing her; she felt t

one! 'There was anot

he was conscious only of a vague oppression, he was already

an,'" he repeated hoa

nd the stillness in the air intensified her difficulty of speech. She struggled to evolve from her confusion the phrase to express her impurity, but all the terms look

ith him th