by J. M. Barrie
CHAPTER XXII
GRIZEL'S GLORIOUS HOUR
Elspeth was to be his wife! David had carried the wondrous promisestraight to Grizel, and now he was gone and she was alone again.
Oh, foolish Grizel, are you crying, and I thought it was so hard toyou to cry!
"Me crying! Oh, no!"
Put your hand to your cheeks, Grizel. Are they not wet?
"They are wet, and I did not know it! It is hard to me to cry insorrow, but I can cry for joy. I am crying because it has all comeright, and I was so much afraid that it never would."
Ah, Grizel, I think you said you wanted nothing else so long as youhad his love!
"But God has let it all come right, just the same, and I am thankingHim. That is why I did not know that I was crying."
She was by the fireplace, on the stool that had always been herfavourite seat, and of course she sat very straight. When Grizelwalked or stood her strong, round figure took a hundred beautifulposes, but when she sat it had but one. The old doctor, inexperimenting moods, had sometimes compelled her to recline, and thenwatched to see her body spring erect the moment he released his hold."What a dreadful patient I should make!" she said contritely. "I wouldchloroform you, miss," said he.
She sat thus for a long time; she had so much for which to thank God,though not with her lips, for how could they keep pace with her heart?Her heart was very full; chiefly, I think, with the tears that rolleddown unknown to her.
She thanked God, in the name of the little hunted girl who had notbeen taught how to pray, and so did it standing. "I do so want to begood; oh, how sweet it would be to be good!" she had said in that longago. She had said it out loud when she was alone on the chance of Hishearing, but she had not addressed Him by name because she was notsure that he was really called God. She had not even known that youshould end by saying "Amen," which Tommy afterwards told her is themost solemn part of it.
How sweet it would be to be good, but how much sweeter it is to begood! The woman that girl had grown into knew that she was good, andshe thanked God for that. She thanked Him for letting her help. If Hehad said that she had not helped, she would have rocked her arms andreplied almost hotly: "You know I have." And He did know: He had seenher many times in the grip of inherited passions, and watched herfighting with them and subduing them; He had seen ugly thoughtsstealing upon her, as they crawl towards every child of man; ah, Hehad seen them leap into the heart of the Painted Lady's daughter, asif a nest already made for them must be there, and still she haddriven them away. Grizel had helped. The tears came more quickly now.
She thanked God that she had never worn the ring. But why had shenever worn it, when she wanted so much to do so, and it was hers? Whyhad she watched herself more carefully than ever of late, and forcedhappiness to her face when it was not in her heart, and deniedherself, at fierce moments, the luxuries of grief and despair, andeven of rebellion? For she had carried about with her the capacity torebel, but she had hidden it, and the reason was that she thought Godwas testing her. If she fell He would not give her the thing shecoveted. Unworthy reason for being good, as she knew, but Godoverlooked it, and she thanked Him for that.
Her hands pressed each other impulsively, as if at the shock of asudden beautiful thought, and then perhaps she was thanking God formaking her the one woman who could be the right wife for Tommy. Shewas so certain that no other woman could help him as she could; noneknew his virtues as she knew them. Had it not been for her, his showyparts only would have been loved; the dear, quiet ones would neverhave heard how dear they were: the showy ones were open to all theworld, but the quiet ones were her private garden. His faults as wellas his virtues passed before her, and it is strange to know that itwas about this time that Grizel ceased to cry and began to smileinstead. I know why she smiled; it was because sentimentality was oneof the little monsters that came skipping into her view, and Tommy wasso confident that he had got rid at last of it! Grizel knew better!But she could look at it and smile. Perhaps she was not sorry that itwas still there with the others, it had so long led the procession. Idaresay she saw herself taking the leering, distorted thing in handand making something gallant of it. She thought that she was toopractical, too much given to seeing but one side to a question, toolacking in consideration for others, too impatient, too relentlesslyjust, and she humbly thanked God for all these faults, because Tommy'sexcesses were in the opposite direction, and she could thus restorethe balance. She was full of humility while she saw how useful shecould be to him, but her face did not show this; she had forgotten herface, and elation had spread over it without her knowing. Perhaps Godaccepted the elation as part of the thanks.
She thanked God for giving Tommy what he wanted so much--herself. Ah,she had thanked Him for that before, but she did it again. And thenshe went on her knees by her dear doctor's chair, and prayed that shemight be a good wife to Tommy.
When she rose the blood was not surging through her veins. Instead ofa passion of joy it was a beautiful calm that possessed her, and onnoticing this she regarded herself with sudden suspicion, as we putour ear to a watch to see if it has stopped. She found that she wasstill going, but no longer either fast or slow, and she saw what hadhappened: her old serene self had come back to her. I think shethanked God for that most of all.
And then she caught sight of her face--oh, oh! Her first practical actas an engaged woman was to wash her face.
Engaged! But was she? Grizel laughed. It is not usually a laughingmatter, but she could not help that. Consider her predicament. Shecould be engaged at once, if she liked, even before she wiped thewater from her face, or she might postpone it, to let Tommy share. Thecareful reader will have noticed that this problem presented itself toher at an awkward moment. She laughed, in short, while her face wasstill in the basin, with the very proper result that she had to gropefor the towel with her eyes shut.
It was still a cold, damp face (Grizel was always in such a hurry)when she opened her most precious drawer and took from it a certainglove which was wrapped in silk paper, but was not perhaps quite soconceited as it had been, for, alas and alack! it was now used as awrapper itself. The ring was inside it. If Grizel wanted to beengaged, absolutely and at once, all she had to do was to slip thatring upon her finger.
It had been hers for a week or more. Tommy had bought it in a certainScottish town whose merchant princes are so many, and have risensplendidly from such small beginnings, that after you have been therea short time you beg to be introduced to someone who has not got on.When you look at them they slap their trouser pockets. When they lookat you they are wondering if you know how much they are worth. Tommy,one day, roaming their streets (in which he was worth incrediblylittle), and thinking sadly of what could never be, saw the modestlittle garnet ring in a jeweller's window, and attached to it was apathetic story. No other person could have seen the story, but it wasas plain to him as though it had been beautifully written on the tagof paper which really contained the price. With his hand on the doorhe paused, overcome by that horror of entering shops without a lady todo the talking, which all men of genius feel (it is the one suretest), hurried away, came back, went to and fro shyly, until he sawthat he was yielding once more to the indecision he thought he had socompletely mastered, whereupon he entered bravely (though it was oneof those detestable doors that ring a bell as they open), and sternlyordered the jeweller, who could have bought and sold our Tommy withone slap on the trouser leg, to hand the ring over to him.
He had no intention of giving it to Grizel. That, indeed, was part ofits great tragedy, for this is the story Tommy read into the ring:There was once a sorrowful man of twenty-three, and forty, and sixty.Ah, how gray the beard has grown as we speak! How thin the locks! Butstill we know him for the same by that garnet ring. Since it becamehis no other eye has seen it, and yet it is her engagement ring. Nevercan he give it to her, but must always carry it about with him as thepiteous memory of what had never been. How innocent it looked in hishand, and with an in
nocence that never wore off, not even when he hadreached his threescore years. As it aged it took on another kind ofinnocence only. It looked pitiable now, for there is but a dishonouredage for a lonely little ring which can never see the finger it wasmade to span.
A hair-shirt! Such it was to him, and he put it on willingly, knowingit could be nothing else. Every smart it gave him pleased, even whileit pained. If ever his mind roamed again to the world of make-believe,that ring would jerk him back to facts.
Grizel remembered well her finding of it. She had been in his pockets.She loved to rifle them; to pull out his watch herself, instead ofasking him for the time; to exclaim "Oh!" at the many things she foundthere, when they should have been neatly docketed or in the fire, andfrom his waistcoat pocket she drew the ring. She seemed to understandall about it at once. She was far ahead while he was explaining. Itseemed quite strange to her that there had ever been a time when shedid not know of her garnet ring.
How her arms rocked! It was delicious to her to remember now with whatagony her arms had rocked. She kissed it; she had not been the firstto kiss it.
It was "Oh, how I wish I could have saved you this pain!"
"But I love it," she cried, "and I love the pain."
It was "Am I not to see it on your finger once?"
"No, no; we must not."
"Let me, Grizel!"
"Is it right, oh, is it right?"
"Only this once!"
"Very well!"
"I dare not, Grizel, I can't! What are we to do with it now?"
"Give it to me. It is mine. I will keep it, beside my glove."
"Let me keep it, Grizel."
"No; it is mine."
"Shall I fling it away?"
"How can you be so cruel? It is mine."
"Let me bury it."
"It is mine."
And of course she had got her way. Could he resist her in anything?They had never spoken of it since, it was such a sad little ring. Sad!It was not in the least little bit sad. Grizel wondered as she lookedat it now how she could ever have thought it sad.
The object with which she put on her hat was to go to Aaron's cottage,to congratulate Elspeth. So she said to herself. Oh, Grizel!
But first she opened two drawers. They were in a great press and fullof beautiful linen woven in Thrums, that had come to Dr. McQueen as a"bad debt." "Your marriage portion, young lady," he had said toGrizel, then but a slip of a girl, whereupon, without waiting tolengthen her frock, she rushed rapturously at her work-basket. "Not atall, miss," he cried ferociously; "you are here to look after thishouse, not to be preparing for another, and until you are respectablybespoken by some rash crittur of a man, into the drawers with yourlinen and down with those murderous shears." And she had obeyed; noscissors, the most relentless things in nature when in Grizel's hand,had ever cleaved their way through that snowy expanse; never a stitchhad she put into her linen except with her eyes, which became horriblylike needles as she looked at it.
And now at last she could begin! Oh, but she was anxious to begin; itis almost a fact that, as she looked at those drawers, she grudged thetime that must be given to-day to Tommy and his ring.
Do you see her now, ready to start? She was wearing her brown jacketwith the fur collar, over which she used to look so searchingly atTommy. To think there was a time when that serene face had to looksearchingly at him! It nearly made her sad again. She paused to bringout the ring and take another exultant look at it. It was attached nowto a ribbon round her neck. Sweet ring! She put it to her eyes. Thatwas her way of letting her eyes kiss it Then she rubbed them and it,in case the one had left a tear upon the other.
And then she went out, joy surging in her heart For this was Grizel'sglorious hour, the end of it.
