'If the bards of old the truth have told The sirens have raven hair. But over the earth since art had birth, They paint the angels fair.'
That's the nearest Teddy will ever get to calling ME an angel. Luckily. For when all's said and done, Emily, I'd rather... are you sure the door is shut so that Aunt Laura won't drop dead?... I'd MUCH rather be a siren than an angel. Wouldn't you?"
"Let's check up the invitations now and make sure we haven't left anybody out," was Emily's response to this riot of words.
"Isn't it terrible to belong to a clan like ours?" said Ilse peevishly. "There's such a ghastly lot of old frumps and bores that have to be among those present. I hope some day I'll get where there are no relations. I wish the whole damn affair was over. You're sure you addressed a bid to Perry, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"I wonder if he'll come? I hope he will. What a goose I was ever to fancy I cared so much for him! I used to hope... all sorts of things, in spite of the fact I knew he was crazy about you. But I never hoped after Mrs. Chidlaw's dinner-dance. Do you remember it, Emily?"
Yes, Emily remembered THAT.
"Till then I'd always hoped a LITTLE... that some day when he realized he couldn't have you... I'd catch his heart on the rebound... wasn't that the Victorian phrase? I thought he'd be at the Chidlaws'... I knew he had been invited. And I asked Teddy if Perry were coming. Teddy looked right into my eyes meaningly and said, 'Perry will not be here. He's working on the case he has to appear in to-morrow. Perry's goal is ambition. He has no time for love.'
"I knew he was trying to warn me... and I knew it was no use to go on hoping... anything. So I gave up definitely. Well, it's turned out all right. Isn't it charming how things do turn out so beautifully? Makes one quite believe in an overruling Providence. Isn't it nice to be able to blame everything on God?"
Emily hardly heard Ilse as she mechanically hung up the blue dress in her closet and slipped into a little green sport suit. So THAT was what Teddy had said to Ilse that night years ago when she knew he had uttered the word "love." And she had been so chilly to him because of it. Well, not likely it mattered. No doubt he had only been warning Ilse because he wanted her to turn her maiden thoughts from Perry and concentrate them on himself. She felt relieved when Ilse finally went home. Ilse's light, continual chatter rather got on her nerves... though she was ashamed to admit it. But then her nerves were on edge under this long-drawn-out torture. Two weeks more of it... and then, thank God, at least peace.
II
She went up to the Tansy Patch in the dusk to take back a book Mrs. Kent had lent her the night before. The visit must be made before Teddy came home. She had been up to the Tansy Patch several times since that first evening and an odd sort of friendship had sprung up between her and Mrs. Kent. They lent each other books and talked of everything except the one thing that mattered most to them. The book Emily was returning was an old copy of The South African Farm. Emily had expressed a wish to read it and Mrs. Kent had gone upstairs and presently came down with it... her white face a little whiter and the scar burning redly across it as always when she was deeply moved.
"Here is the book you want," she said. "I had it in a box upstairs."
Emily finished reading the book before she went to sleep. She was not sleeping well now and the nights were long. The book had a musty, unaired odour... evidently the box Mrs. Kent spoke of had not been opened for a long time. And in it Emily found a thin letter, unstamped, addressed to Mrs. David Kent.
The curious thing about the letter was that it was, apparently, unopened. Well, letters often re-sealed themselves like that, if placed under pressure, when the flap had pulled open untorn in the first opening. Not likely it was of much significance. But of course she would mention it when she took the book back.
"Did you know there was a letter in this book, Mrs. Kent?"
"A letter. Did you say a letter?"
"Yes. Addressed to you."
Emily held the letter out to Mrs. Kent, whose face became ghastly as she looked at the handwriting.
"You found that... in that book?" she whispered. "In that book that hasn't been opened for over twenty-five years? Do you know... who wrote this letter? My... husband wrote it... and I have never read it... never known of it."
Emily felt herself in the presence of some tragedy... the secret torture of Mrs. Kent's life, perhaps.
"I will go away... so that you can read it alone," she said gently and went out, leaving Mrs. Kent standing in the shadowy little room, holding the letter in her hand... as one might hold a snake.
III
"I sent for you to-night because there is something I must tell you," said Mrs. Kent.
She was sitting, a tiny, erect, determined creature in the armchair by the window in the harsh light of a cold sunset. It was June but it was cold. The sky was hard and autumnal. Emily, walking up the cross-lots path had shivered and wished herself at home. But Mrs. Kent's note had been urgent... almost peremptory. Why in the world did she want her! Surely, it could not be anything in connection with Teddy. And yet what else could make Mrs. Kent send for her in this fashion?
The moment she saw Mrs. Kent she was conscious of a curious change in her... a change hard to define. She was as frail, as pitiful as ever. There seemed even a certain defiant light in her eyes. But for the first time since she had known Mrs. Kent Emily did not feel that she was in the presence of an unhappy woman. There was peace here... a strange, sorrowful, long-unknown peace. The tortured soul was... at last... off the rack.
"I have been dead... and in hell... but now I am alive again," said Mrs. Kent. "It's you who have done this... you found that letter. And so there is something I must tell you. It will make you hate me. And I shall be sorry for that now. But it must be told."
Emily felt a sudden distaste for hearing whatever it was Mrs. Kent had to tell. It had... must have... something to do with Teddy. And she did not want to hear anything... ANYTHING... about Teddy now... Teddy who would be Ilse's husband in two weeks.
"Don't you think... perhaps... it would be better not to tell me?"
"It must be told. I have committed a wrong and I must confess it. I cannot undo it... I suppose it is too late to undo it... but it must be told. But there are other things that must be told first. Things I've never spoken of... things that have been torturing me until I've screamed out loud at night sometimes with the anguish of them. Oh, you will never forgive me... but I think you will be a little sorry for me."
"I've always felt sorry for you, Mrs. Kent."
"I think you did... yes, I think you did. But you couldn't realize it all. Emily, I wasn't like this when I was a girl. I was... like other people then. And I was pretty... indeed I was. When David Kent came and made me love him I was pretty. And he loved me... THEN... and he always loved me. He says so in this letter."
She plucked it from the bosom of her dress and kissed it almost savagely.
"I can't let you see it, Emily. No eyes but mine must ever see it. But I'll tell you what is in it. Oh, you can't know... you can't understand how much I loved him, Emily. You think you love Teddy. But you don't... you CAN'T love him as I loved his father."