The Rosary
Page 30
CHAPTER XXVIII
IN THE STUDIO
Jane mounted to the studio; unlocked the door, and, entering, closed itafter her.
The evening sun shone through a western window, imparting an addedrichness to the silk screens and hangings; the mauve wistaria of aJapanese embroidery; or the golden dragon of China on a deep purpleground, wound up in its own interminable tail, and showing rampantclaws in unexpected places.
Several times already Jane had been into Garth's studio, but always tofetch something for which he waited eagerly below; and she had neverfelt free to linger. Margery had a duplicate key; for she herself wentup every day to open the windows, dust tenderly all special treasures;and keep it exactly as its owner had liked it kept, when his quick eyescould look around it. But this key was always on Margery's bunch; andJane did not like to ask admission, and risk a possible refusal.
Now, however, she could take her own time; and she seated herself inone of the low and very deep wicker lounge-chairs, comfortablyupholstered; so exactly fitting her proportions, and supporting arms,knees, and head, just rightly, that it seemed as if all other chairswould in future appear inadequate, owing to the absolute perfection ofthis one. Ah, to be just that to her beloved! To so fully meet hisneed, at every point, that her presence should be to him always asource of strength, and rest, and consolation.
She looked around the room. It was so like Garth; every detail perfect;every shade of colour enhancing another, and being enhanced by it. Thearrangements for regulating the light, both from roof and windows; theeasels of all kinds and sizes; clean bareness, where space, and freedomfrom dust, were required; the luxurious comfort round the fireplace,and in nooks and corners; all were so perfect. And the plain brownwall-paper, of that beautiful quiet shade which has in it no red, andno yellow; a clear nut-brown. On an easel near the further window stoodan unfinished painting; palette and brushes beside it, just as Garthhad left them when he went out on that morning, nearly three monthsago; and, vaulting over a gate to protect a little animal fromunnecessary pain, was plunged himself into such utter loss and anguish.
Jane rose, and took stock of all his quaint treasures on themantelpiece. Especially her mind was held and fascinated by a stoutlittle bear in brass, sitting solidly yet jauntily on its haunches, itsfront paws clasping a brazen pole; its head turned sideways; its small,beady, eyes, looking straight before it. The chain, from its neck tothe pole denoted captivity and possible fierceness. Jane had no doubtits head would lift, and its body prove a receptacle for matches; butshe felt equally certain that, should she lift its head and look, nomatches would be within it. This little bear was unmistakably EarlyVictorian; a friend of childhood's days; and would not be put to commonuses. She lifted the head. The body was empty. She replaced it gentlyon the mantelpiece, and realised that she was deliberately postponingan ordeal which must be faced.
Deryck had told her of Garth's pictures of the One Woman. Garth,himself, had now told her even more. But the time had come when shemust see them for herself. It was useless to postpone the moment. Shelooked towards the yellow screen.
Then she walked, over to the western window, and threw it wide open.The sun was dipping gently towards the purple hills. The deep blue ofthe sky began to pale, as a hint of lovely rose crept into it. Janelooked heavenward and, thrusting her hands deeply into her pockets,spoke aloud. "Before God" she said,--"in case I am never able to say orthink it again, I will say it now--I BELIEVE I WAS RIGHT. I consideredGarth's future happiness, and I considered my own. I decided as I didfor both our sakes, at terrible cost to present joy. But, before God, Ibelieved I was right; and--I BELIEVE IT STILL."
Jane never said it again.