lavender and old lace-第33章

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　an　ivory　tint。

Four　shawls　of　Canton　crepe；　three　of　them　lavender　and　one　ivory　white；　were　put　back　into　the　chest。　There　were　several　fans；　of　fine　workmanship；　a　girdle　of　oxidized　silver；　set　with　amethysts　and　pearls；　and　a　large　marquetry　box；　which　contained　tea。　〃That's　all　the　large　things；〃　he　said；　〃now　we　can　look　these　over。〃

Ruth　was　gathering　up　great　quantities　of　laceBrussels；　Point　d'Alencon；　Cluny；　Mechlin；　Valenciennes；　Duchesse　and　Venetian　point。　There　was　a　bridal　veil　of　the　Venetian　lace；　evidently　made　to　match　that　on　the　gown。　Tiny；　dried　petals　rustled　out　of　the　meshes；　for　Miss　Ainslie's　laces　were　laid　away　in　lavender；　like　her　love。

〃I　don't　see　them；〃　she　said；　〃yes；　here　they　are。〃　She　gave　him　a　bundle　of　yellowed　letters；　tied　with　lavender　ribbon。　　　〃I'll　take　them　to　her；〃　he　answered；　picking　up　a　small　black　case　that　lay　on　the　floor；　and　opening　it。　〃Why；　Ruth！〃　he　gasped。　〃It's　my　father's　picture！〃

Miss　Ainslie's　voice　rose　again　in　pitiful　cadence。　〃Carl；　Carl；　dear！　Where　are　you？　I　want　youoh；　I　want　you！〃

He　hastened　to　her；　leaving　the　picture　in　Ruth's　hand。　It　was　an　ambrotype；　set　　into　a　case　lined　with　purple　velvet。　　The　face　was　that　of　a　young　man；　　not　more　than　twenty…five　or　thirty；　who　looked　strangely　like　Winfield。　　The　eyes；　forehead　and　the　poise　of　　the　head　were　the　same。

The　earth　trembled　beneath　Ruth's　feet　for　a　moment；　then；　all　at　once；　she　understood。　The　light　in　the　attic　window；　the　marked　paragraph　in　the　paper；　and　the　death　notices　why；　yes；　the　Charles　Winfield　who　had　married　Abigail　Weatherby　was　Miss　Ainslie's　lover；　and　Carl　was　his　son。　　　〃He　went　away！〃　Miss　Ainslie's　voice　came　again　to　Ruth；　when　she　told　her　story；　with　no　hint　of　her　lover's　name。　He　went　away；　and　soon　afterward；　married　Abigail　Weatherby；　but　why？　Was　it　love　at　first　sight；　or　did　he　believe　that　his　sweetheart　was　dead？　Then　Carl　was　born　and　the　mother　died。　Twelve　years　afterward；　he　followed　her　broken　hearted。　Carl　had　told　her　that　his　father　could　not　bear　the　smell　of　lavender　nor　the　sight　of　any　shade　of　purpleand　Miss　Ainslie　always　wore　lavender　and　lived　in　the　scent　of　ithad　he　come　to　shrink　from　it　through　remorse？

Why　was　it；　she　wondered？　Had　he　forgotten　Miss　Ainslie；　or　had　he　been　suddenly　swept　off　his　feet　by　some　blind　whirlwind　of　passion？　In　either　case；　memory　had　returned　to　torture　him　a　thousand　foldto　make　him　ashamed　to　face　her；　with　his　boy　in　his　arms。

And　Aunt　Jane　knew　of　the　marriage；　at　the　time；　probably；　and　said　no　word。　Then　she　learned　of　Abigail　Weatherby's　death；　and　was　still　silent；　hoping；　perhaps；　that　the　wanderer　would　come　back；　until　she　learned　that　Charles　Winfield；　too；　was　dead。　And　still　she　had　not　told　Miss　Ainslie；　or；　possibly；　thought　she　knew　it　all　till　the　day　that　Hepsey　had　spoken　of；　when　she　came　home；　looking　〃strange；〃　to　keep　the　light　in　the　attic　window　every　night　for　more　than　five　years。

Was　it　kind？　Ruth　doubted　for　a　moment；　then　her　heart　softened　with　love　for　Aunt　Jane；　who　had　hidden　the　knowledge　that　would　be　a　death　blow　to　Miss　Ainslie；　and　let　her　live　on；　happy　in　her　dream；　while　the　stern　Puritan　conscience　made　her　keep　the　light　in　the　attic　window　in　fulfilment　of　her　promise。

As　if　the　little　light　could　reach　the　veil　which　hangs　between　us　and　Eternity；　or　penetrate　the　greyness　which　never　parts　save　for　a　passage！　As　if　all　Miss　Ainslie's　IGve　and　faith　could　bring　the　dead　to　life　again；　even　to　be　forgiven！

Her　lips　quivered　when　she　thought　of　Miss　Ainslie's　tenderness　for　Carl　and　the　little　whispered　lullabies　that　she　sang　to　herself；　over　and　over　again。　〃She　does　not　know；〃　thought　Ruth。　〃Thank　God；　she　will　never　know！〃

She　put　the　rest　of　the　things　into　the　chest　and　closed　it；　covering　it；　as　before；　with　the　rug　Miss　Ainslie　loved。　When　she　went　into　the　other　room；　she　was　asleep　again；　with　her　cheek　pillowed　on　the　letters；　while　Carl　sat　beside　her；　holding　her　hand　and　pondering　over　the　mystery　he　could　not　explain。　Ruth's　heart　ached　for　those　two；　so　strangely　brought　together；　who　had　but　this　little　hour　to　atone　for　a　lifetime　of　loss。

The　first　faint　lines　of　light　came　into　the　eastern　sky。　Ruth　stood　by　the　window；　watching　the　colour　come　on　the　grey　above　the　hill；　while　two　or　three　stars　still　shone　dimly。　The　night　lamp　flickered；　then　went　out。　She　set　it　in　the　hall　and　came　back　to　the　window。

As　Miss　Ainslie's　rug　had　been　woven；　little　by　little；　purple；　crimson；　and　turquoise；　gleaming　with　inward　fires；　shone　upon　the　clouds。　Carl　came　over　to　Ruth；　putting　his　arm　around　her。　They　watched　it　togetherthat　miracle　which　is　as　old　as　the　world；　and　yet　ever　new。　　　〃I　don't　see〃　he　began。

〃Hush；　dear；〃　Ruth　whispered；　〃I　know；　and　I'll　tell　you　some　time；　but　I　don't　want　her　to　know。〃

The　sky　brightened　slowly；　and　the　intense　colour　came　into　the　room　with　the　light。　Ruth　drew　the　curtains　aside；　saying；　in　a　low　tone；　〃it's　beautiful；　isn't　it？〃

There　was　a　sudden　movement　in　the　room　and　they　turned；　to　see　Miss　Ainslie　sitting　up；　her　cheeks　flushed；　and　the　letters　scattered　around　her。　The　ribbon　had　slipped　away；　and　her　heavy　white　hair　fell　over　her　shoulders。　Ruth　went　to　her；　to　tie　it　back　again；　but　she　put　her　away；　very　gently；　without　speaking。

Carl　stood　by　the　window；　thinking；　and　Miss　Ainslie's　eyes　rested　upon　him；　with　wonder　and　love。　The　sunrise　stained　her　white　face　and　her　eyes　shone　brightly；　as　sapphires　touched　with　dawn。　The　first　ray　of　the　sun　came　into　the　little　room　and　lay　upon　her　hair；　changing　its　whiteness　to　gleaming　silver。　Then　all　at　once　her　face　illumined；　as　from　a　light　within。

Carl　moved　away　from　the　window；　strangely　drawn　toward　her；　and　her　face　became　radiant　with　unspeakable　joy。　Then　the　passion　of　her　denied　motherhood　swelled　into　a　cry　of　longing〃My　son！〃

〃Mother！〃　broke　from　his　lips　in　answer　He　went　to　her　blindly；　knowing　only　that　they　belonged　to　each　other；　and　that；　in　some　inscrutable　way；　they　had　been　kept　apart　until　it　was　too　late。　He　took　her　into　his　arms；　holding　her　close；　and　whispering；　brokenly；　what　only　she　and　God　might　hear！　Ruth　turned　away；　sobbing；　as　if　it　was　something　too　holy　for　her　to　see。

Miss　Ainslie；　transfigured　with　unearthly　light；　lifted　her　face　to　his。　Her　lips　quivered　for　an　instant；　then　grew　cold　beneath　his　own。　She　sank　back　among　the　pillows；　with　her　eyes　closed；　but　with　yet　another　glory　upon　the　marble　whiteness　of　her　face；　as　though　at　the　end　of　her　journey；　and　beyond　the　mists　that　divided　them；　her　dream　had　become　divinely　true。

Then　he；　who　should　have　been　her　son；　bent　down；　the　tears　falling　unheeded　upon　her　face；　and　kissed　her　again。





End