The Awakening of Helena Richie Part 53

"Perhaps not," said Dr. Lavendar sadly; "but, oh, my child, how you do believe in h.e.l.l!"

She stared at him for one broken moment; then flung her arms out on the table beside her, and dropped her head upon them. Dr. Lavendar did not speak, There was a long silence, suddenly she turned upon him, her face quivering; "Yes! I do believe in h.e.l.l. Because that is what life is! I've never had any happiness at all. Oh, it seemed so little a thing to ask--just to be happy Yes, I believe in h.e.l.l."

Dr. Lavendar waited.

"If I've done what people say isn't right, it was only because I wanted to be happy; not because I wanted to do wrong. It was because of Love. You can't understand what that means! But Christ said that because a woman loved much, much was to be forgiven! Do you remember that?" she demanded hotly.

"Yes," said Dr, Lavendar; "but do you remember Who it was that she loved much? She loved Goodness, Mrs. Richie. Have you loved Goodness?"

"Oh, what is the use of talking about it?" she said pa.s.sionately; "we won't agree. If it was all to do over again, perhaps I--But life was so dreadful! If you judge me, remember--"

"I do not judge you."

"--remember that everything has been against me. Everything! From the very beginning, I never had anything I wanted, I thought I was going to be happy, but each time I wasn't. Until I had David. And now you will take him. Oh, what a miserable failure life has been! I wish I could die. But it seems you can't even die when you want to!"

For a moment she covered her face with her hands. Then she said: "I suppose I might as well tell you. Mr. Pryor is not--.... After my baby died, I left my husband. Lloyd loved me, and I went to live with him."

"You went to live with your brother?" Dr. Lavendar repeated perplexed.

"He is not my brother."

There was silence for a full minute. Then Dr. Lavendar said quietly, "Go on."

She looked at him with hunted eyes. "Now, you will take David away.

Why did you make me tell you?"

"It is better to tell me." He laid his old hand on hers, clenched upon the table at her side. The room was very still; once a coal fell from the grate, and once there was the soft brush of rain against the window,

"It's my whole life. I can't tell you my whole life, I didn't even want to be wicked; all I wanted was to be happy, And so I went to Lloyd. It didn't seem so very wrong. We didn't hurt anybody. His wife was dead.--As for Frederick, I have no regrets!" she ended fiercely.

The room had darkened in the rainy October twilight, and the fire was low; Dr. Lavendar could hardly see her quivering face.

"But now it's all over between Lloyd and me. I sha'n't see him ever any more. He would have married me, if I had been willing to give up David. But I was not willing."

"You thought it would make everything right if you married this man?"

"Right?" she repeated, surprised; "why, of course. At least I suppose that is what good people call right," she added dully.

"And you gave up doing right, to have David?"

She felt that she was trapped, and yet she could not understand why; "I sacrificed myself," she said confusedly.

"No," said Dr. Lavendar; "you sacrificed a conviction. A poor, false conviction, but such as it was, you threw it over to keep David."

She looked at him in terror; "It was just selfishness, you think?"

"Yes," said Dr. Lavendar.

"Perhaps it was," she admitted. "Oh, how frightful life is! To try to be happy, is to be bad."

"No, to try to be happy at the expense of other people, is to be bad."

"But I never did that! Lloyd's wife was dead;--Of course, if she had been alive"--Helena lifted her head with the curious pride of caste in sin which is so strongly felt by the woman who is a sinner;--"if she had been alive, I wouldn't have thought of such a thing. But n.o.body knew, so I never did any harm,"--then she quailed; "at least, I never meant to do any harm. So you can't say it was at anybody's expense."

"It was at everybody's expense. Marriage is what makes us civilized.

If anybody injures marriage we all pay."

She was silent.

"If every dissatisfied wife should do what you did, could decent life go on? Wouldn't we all drop down a little nearer the animals?"

"Perhaps so," she said vaguely. But she was not following him. She had entered into this experience of sin, not by the door of reason, but of emotion; she could leave it only by the same door. The high appeal to individual renunciation for the good of the many, was entirely beyond her. Dr. Lavendar did not press it any further.

"Well, anyhow," she said dully, "I didn't get any happiness--whether it was at other people's expense or not. When David came, I thought, 'now I am going to be happy!' That was all I wanted: happiness. And now you will take him away."

"I have not said I would take him away."

She trembled so at that, that for an instant she could not speak. "Not take him?"

"Not if you think it is best for him to stay with you."

She began to pant with fear, "You mean something by that, I know you do I Oh, what do you mean? I cannot do him any harm!"

"Woman," said Dr. Lavendar solemnly, "_can you do him any good_?"

She cowered silently away from him.

"Can you teach him to tell the truth, you, who have lived a lie? Can you make him brave, you, who could not endure? Can you make him honorable, you, who have deceived us all? Can you make him unselfish, you, who have thought only of self? Can you teach him purity, you, who--"

"Stop! I cannot bear it."

"Tell me the truth: can you do him any good?"

That last solemn word fell into profound silence. There was not a sound in the still darkness of the study; and suddenly her soul was still, too ... the whirlwind of anger had died out; the shock of responsibility had subsided; the hiss of those flames of shame had ceased. She was in the centre of all the tumults, where lies the quiet mind of G.o.d. For a long time she did not speak. Then, by and by, her face hidden in her arms on the table, she said, in a whisper:

"No."

_And after the fire, the still small Voice._

CHAPTER x.x.xIII

Dr. Lavendar looked at the bowed head; but he offered no comfort.

When she said brokenly, "No; I can't have him. I can't have him," he a.s.sented; and there was silence again. It was broken by a small, cheerful voice: