They echo of primeval forests.The roar of the lion is in them, the fierceness of the tiger; the instinct of dominant possession, which says: "Mine to have and hold, to fight for and enjoy; and I slay all comers!" She had felt it, and her own brave soul had understood it and responded to it, unafraid; and been ready to mate with it, if only--ah! if only--But things could never be again as they had been before.If she meant to starve her tiger, steel bars must be between them for evermore.None of those sentimental suggestions of attempts to be a sort of unsatisfactory cross between sister and friend would do for the man whose head she had unconsciously held against her breast.
Jane knew this.He had kept himself magnificently in hand after she put him from her, but she knew he was only giving her breathing space.He still considered her his own, and his very certainty of the near future had given him that gentle patience in the present.
But even now, while her answer pended, he would not take her hand in friendship.Jane closed her door and locked it.She must face this problem of the future, with all else locked out excepting herself and him.Ah! if she could but lock herself out and think only of him and of his love, as beautiful, perfect gifts laid at her feet, that she might draw them up into her empty arms and clasp them there for evermore.Just for a little while she would do this.One hour of realisation was her right.Afterwards she must bring HERSELF into the problem,--her possibilities; her limitations; herself, in her relation to him in the future; in the effect marriage with her would be likely to have upon him.What it might mean to her did not consciously enter into her calculations.Jane was self-conscious, with the intense self-consciousness of all reserved natures, but she was not selfish.
At first, then, she left her room in darkness, and, groping her way to the curtains, drew them back, threw up the sash, and, drawing a chair to the window, sat down, leaning her elbows on the sill and her chin in her hands, and looked down upon the terrace, still bathed in moonlight.Her window was almost opposite the place where she and Garth had talked.She could see the stone lion and the vase full of scarlet geraniums.She could locate the exact spot where she was sitting when he--Memory awoke, vibrant.
Then Jane allowed herself the most wonderful mental experience of her life.She was a woman of purpose and decision.She had said she had a right to that hour, and she took it to the full.In soul she met her tiger and mated with him, unafraid.He had not asked whether she loved him or not, and she did not need to ask herself.She surrendered her proud liberty, and tenderly, humbly, wistfully, yet with all the strength of her strong nature, promised to love, honour, and obey him.She met the adoration of his splendid eyes without a tremor.She had locked her body out.She was alone with her soul; and her soul was all-beautiful--perfect for him.
The loneliness of years slipped from her.Life became rich and purposeful.He needed her always, and she was always there and always able to meet his need."Are you content, my beloved?" she asked over and over; and Garth's joyous voice, with the ring of perpetual youth in it, always answered: "Perfectly content." And Jane smiled into the night, and in the depths of her calm eyes dawned a knowledge hitherto unknown, and in her tender smile trembled, with unspeakable sweetness, an understanding of the secret of a woman's truest bliss."He is mine and I am his.And because he is mine, my beloved is safe; and because I am his, he is content."Thus she gave herself completely; gathering him into the shelter of her love; and her generous heart expanded to the greatness of the gift.Then the mother in her awoke and realised how much of the maternal flows into the love of a true woman when she understands how largely the child-nature predominates in the man in love, and how the very strength of his need of her reduces to unaccustomed weakness the strong nature to which she has become essential.
