"There's a true Heart in the West World, that is beating still for me, Ever praying in the twilight once again my face to see.
Oh, the World is good and gladsome, with its Love both East and West, But there's ever one love only that is still the First and Best."The low voice died away.A moment later, Ethel Dent pushed open one of the long windows of the drawing-room and stepped out on the veranda.The flower-boxes were filled with limp stalks, chilled by the frost of the previous night; but the sun lay warm over the wide, white steps, over the lawn and over the bay beyond.She stood for a moment, staring thoughtfully out across the bay; then she moved on to the western end of the veranda, looked up at Table Mountain with its cloth of cloud, and then dropped down into one of the chairs which still remained in the sunny corner.
That corner held many memories for her.She had sought it now unconsciously; yet, once there, she lingered, although for weeks past she had been seeking to banish those memories from her life.
Why keep them? They belonged to a chapter that was dead and gone.
Better to seal its pages and never break the seal.Better never to reread what had been written there.If she had been mistaken in giving her love where it was not desired, not only should the world never be aware of the fact; but she herself would ignore the existence of that mistake.She had loved Weldon with all the energy of her headstrong, girlish nature.She had supposed that he had loved her in return.Instead of that, he had gone away and left her without a word, just when her need for him was the greatest.No man in his senses could have seen the agony of that last hour she had spent with Captain Frazer, and failed to understand the pitiful, appealing look she had cast upon him.Unable to escape the agony, she had given this tacit call to Weldon to share it with her, to understand, and to forgive.She had been sure she could trust him;but it was evident that she had trusted him in vain.In the hour of her supremest need, he had gone away and left her alone.No man who cared for her could have forsaken her in such a crisis as that.Her lips curved into a hard little smile, as she sat rocking to and fro in the sunshine, and, going back over a past which she had rarely allowed herself to reopen.
And afterwards? Afterwards Fate had been all against her.It had been easy to escape from her engagement at Johannesburg, comparatively easy to shut the past experience into the inner places of her mind, to close her lips with the show of a smile, and to plunge into a whirl of social life which should leave her no time for quiet thought.So long as she kept her secret to herself, it mattered nothing to the girl that it was eating pitilessly at her vitality, that it was ever hard and harder for her to keep up her ceaseless round of gayety.
And then, all at once, their home life had been invaded by the man who was never absent from her thoughts.In a sense, she was glad of the invasion.It proved to her, more surely than any words could have done, that she had kept her secret well and beyond suspicion.
Had her mother gained any inkling of the true state of the case, Harvard Weldon would never have been brought away from the room at the Grand.For so much surety, Ethel Dent could rejoice with a thankful heart.Nevertheless, as the days passed by, Weldon's presence in the house increased the strain tenfold.Night after night, Ethel had crept noiselessly from her room across the hallway and crouched outside his door, listening for any sounds from within which might tell her that all was well with the man whom she would not see.Day after day, she forced her life to run along in its usual grooves, going out of the house with a laugh on her lips and, in her heart, the sickening dread of the tidings which might greet her upon her return.Again and again, as she passed the door left open during the nurse's temporary absence from the room, she put forth all her strength to keep herself from stealing in, to look just once on the unconscious face of the man who had made her whole life.But she held herself in check, and never once yielded to the temptation.Well she might hold herself in check.She realized only too keenly that, once face to face with Weldon, she would have to do over again all the weary work of those weeks of self-repression.
Then the stupor had given place to delirium; and, even in her room and behind her closed door, she could hear the low, muttering voice.
After that, she crouched no more outside his room.It would have been impossible for her to say just what it was that she dreaded to hear.Nevertheless, she closed her ears as resolutely as she closed her door; but, when she met the nurse on the stairs, she hurried onward with her face turned away and her cheeks ablaze.
And then in its turn the delirium had ended.From that time forward, Ethel went out more constantly than ever.When she was in the house, she started and grew red or pale at every unexpected step.Now, at any hour, there might come a summons for her to go to the invalid's room.She went over in detail every possible reply she could make to every possible word which Weldon might say.She held herself ready for any emergency.But the days dragged away, and no emergency had come.
And then, as it had chanced, she had been away from home, when Weldon had finally left the house.It had been the fulfilment of an old promise which had taken her to spend two days with a friend in Newlands.She had had no notion that the time for Weldon's going away was at hand.Neither, on the other hand, had Weldon any idea that Ethel was absent from home.He had merely taken advantage of the first day when the doctor had ceased to oppose his removal.It had been to him a cruel disappointment that Mrs.Dent had stood alone on the steps to watch his departure.
