What a Man Wills Part 27

She stopped, panting, and her husband smiled at her across the room, and silently clapped his hands. "I beg to second the motion!" he said gravely, and there was a general stir of laughter. It was pleasant to meet a couple of the good old-fashioned type which was yearly becoming more rare. Every person in the room felt a sincere respect for Captain and Mrs Antony Maplestone.

"Well, of course--if you put it like that," said Mrs Manning doubtfully, "I'm sure I've always done my best to be a good mother, and the girls go to school now, which makes it easier, but with the boy being blind--well, naturally, it's a tie! My husband tells me he wished for Comfort, and there's no doubt but he's got it. We're not rich, of course, but comfortable, quite comfortable. He's only to express a wish, and it's there for him, and I keep a first-rate cook. But as I said to him only to-day, he doesn't give himself a chance. Always slaving and worrying for someone else, particularly for the boy, even now when he is getting quite big, and able to do for himself. It's wonderful how clever blind people become! Of course we all want to be helpful, but, as I say, there _is_ a medium course, and everyone notices how Frank has altered these last years. If you remember he used to be quite stout--"

"Please, Marion! Spare my blushes. I am perfectly well, and my greatest pleasure is looking after the boy." Francis Manning spoke with quiet self-possession, nevertheless his hearers divined a hidden wound, and unanimously forbore from comment, but those who had known the man fifteen years before, marvelled at the change which had come over his whole personality. It was more than a change; it was a transfiguration.

What trumpet-call had sounded in this man's ears to rouse him from his sleep?

Mrs Ingram looked around and met the glance of John Malham, millionaire, leaning back in his chair with his head supported on his hand. Of all the men in the room he looked the most worn and exhausted, and she wondered if perchance at this very moment his tired brain was evolving another t.i.tan scheme by which fresh coffers could be added to his store. Her smile had more of pity than envy as she addressed him:

"Mr Malham, it is unnecessary to ask your report! All the world knows how you have succeeded. It only remains for your old friends to congratulate you, and wish you a continuance of your success."

"Thanks very much, Mrs Ingram. It is a great pleasure to be here, and to meet you all again. I only wish I could have managed to make a longer stay."

Malham was obviously ill at ease, obviously annoyed when his wife took up the strain, and in her flat voice proceeded to enlarge on her husband's marvellous powers. With the obvious intention of avoiding the ordeal he bent forward towards Juliet, and pointing to a miniature which hung from her neck, said in a low voice, "Is that one of the six? The little girl? May I see?"

Juliet beamed broadly as she held out the pearl-rimmed case containing a pretty round young face. "And you? How many have you?"

"None," he said shortly, and Juliet hurried to retrieve her mistake.

"Yes. That's the girl. A great pet, of course. I called her Celia.

Her father thought it too fanciful, but he had had his own way about the boys, so I insisted on it. It's such a pretty name, so sweet and winsome--don't you think so? And uncommon. One meets so many Gladyses and Phyllises, but so seldom a Celia. Did you ever know a Celia?"

She looked at him, and the motherly smile faded at sight of his tortured face.

"Yes. I knew a Celia," he said thickly, and Juliet looked hurriedly in another direction, her heart leaping to a swift conclusion.

"He loved a girl called Celia, and she died, and he married Lady Anne for her position. All his success has not brought him happiness. Oh, the poor, _poor_ man!"

Meantime Lady Anne's voice had trailed into silence, and Rupert Dempster was answering Mrs Ingram's unspoken summons. Like Manning he had but little to say, but there was all the difference in the world in his manner of saying it.

"I wished for Eve," he said simply. "Here she is!" and again he slipped his hand through his wife's arm. As a matter of course he had seated himself by her side; as a matter of course Eve had looked for his coming. For all their friendliness and courtesy, there was about these two an air of detachment from their surroundings, an air of living apart in a world of their own, fenced round with an ambuscade through which no darts could pa.s.s. The affectionate camaraderie of the Lessings and Maplestones was a good and pleasant thing to witness, but the bond which bound these two was finer, more exalted.

Eve's eyes were deep and luminous at that moment, but their beautiful glance held no remembrance of her companions. All her thought was for her man.

"Ah, Rupert, yes! you have gained your wish!" Mrs Ingram said deeply.

She looked at the two as they sat side by side, and a reflection of their own radiance showed in her own face. "It was a great wish," she said, "a wish that was worth while, for your treasure can never be taken away. Death itself is powerless to divide your souls. Dear Rupert, I am glad for you. We are all glad! It is good to have you among us to-day..."

Hereward Lowther bent forward in his seat, the firelight playing on his eager, animated face. Throughout the evening he had worn an air of expectancy, and now he burst eagerly into speech.

"Mrs Ingram, I have to thank you for a tremendously interesting evening. My wife told me that she had a special reason for wishing to accept your invitation. I understood that we were to celebrate some sort of anniversary, but as old friends you will remember that she is chary of words, and I was entirely ignorant of its nature. I have been intensely interested in the history of the various wishes, but I confess that my chief feeling has been curiosity. Please tell me! What was my wife's wish?"

Mrs Ingram looked at the corner by the fireplace where for the last hour a white figure sat, silent, immovable, her face shadowed by an outstanding beam. Even so fifteen years ago had the girl Lilith Wastneys watched and waited, until at her hostess's summons she had moved softly forward to make her extraordinary p.r.o.nouncement. The remembrance of that moment was vivid in the minds of her old friends, as Mrs Ingram answered:

"Lilith," she said deliberately, "wished for Power."

The next moment the silence was broken by a peal of laughter. It was Hereward Lowther who laughed, giving way to a gust of amus.e.m.e.nt with the boy-like unrestraint which still characterised his moods. He threw back his head, he clasped his knees, he opened his mouth and let the loud ha-ha's echo through the hall. In a very paroxysm of amus.e.m.e.nt he repeated the word, over and again, and between each repet.i.tion, swayed with fresh laughter.

"Power! Lilith? Lilith wished for Power? Of all the inexplicable wishes! I might have guessed for months but I should never have guessed that. Lilith? the most humble and retiring of women. Look at her now!

That's where she would always be, if she were not driven forward,-- hiding in some out-of-the-way corner. And you tell me that she wished for _Power_? When was that--fifteen years ago? And we have been married for twelve... How extraordinarily she must have changed!"

Through eight different minds the reflection was pa.s.sing, how extraordinarily Lilith remained the same, but it did not become mere friends to contradict the verdict of a husband, so they remained silent, and, his outburst of amus.e.m.e.nt over, Hereward Lowther vouchsafed a more serious attention to the problem.

"Well!" he said thoughtfully, "we may say that vicariously she has gained her wish. As my wife--" He checked himself as though fearful of seeming to boast, and added quickly, "I should be delighted to feel that I have been able to provide Lilith with anything for which she wished!"

Lilith bent forward and sent him a smile of acknowledgment. Then her eyes travelled round the circle and rested on her hostess's face. The two women looked at one another long and steadily and a flush rose into Mrs Ingram's cheeks.

"I think," she said quietly, "I must reckon Lilith among my successes.

Mr Lowther, may I tell you how proud my husband and I feel to number you among our guests to-night? Ordinary people who can only stand by and watch feel a profound grat.i.tude to workers like yourself, who are types of all that is honourable and disinterested. England owes you a great debt to-day."

Every man present joined in a murmur of a.s.sent, for though political opinions differed, one and all acknowledged the singleness of Lowther's aim. Across one or two minds flitted a remembrance of the tragic eclipse which had marked the statesman's early career, but in each case the remembrance brought with it an increased admiration. Not one man in a thousand would have had the power to climb out of so deep a ditch!

And now, one by one, the nine histories had been discussed, and the company instinctively drew their chairs nearer the fire, watching with questioning eagerness the eloquent face of the woman whose words had had so large a bearing on their lives. Here she was, an old woman now, worn to the point of breaking, yet vital, as ever, with the flame of an encompa.s.sing sympathy.

"Ah, dear people," she sighed, "dear people, it is so good to meet you again! I am so grateful to you for coming. The remembrance of this night will be company for me during many quiet days. I shall have much to think over, but at present I am conscious only of one thing--that my prophecy is true, is almost _terribly_ true! We are only faintly beginning to understand the real power of steady, concentrated will.

The thing that a man aims for, with a strong, single, undeviating aim, that thing, sooner or later, _a man can have_! So much is certain, but I blame myself for not insisting more upon the initial question. _Is it worth while_? Oh, dear people, so often our ambitions are _not_ worth while. An aim which is to ride dominant over every call, an aim for which all hindrances are to be cast aside, must needs have a spiritual nature, if it is to satisfy a spiritual being. In the days to come, teach your children the importance of this great decision; teach them their power, but be sure, be very sure, to teach them to think long and earnestly, lest in their blindness they choose the dross, and go starving all their days!"

John Malham leaned back in his chair, so that his face was in the shadow. Francis Manning's eyes gazed deeply into s.p.a.ce. Across the silence broke the harp-like tones of Eve Dempster's voice:

"Mrs Ingram, you have gained your own wish. It is written in your face that it was worth while. Will you tell us what it was?"

The hostess looked down at her thin, locked hands. Her voice trembled, as she slowly recited her answer, dwelling with eloquent emphasis on one of the earlier words:

"I have--Learned--in whatever state I am, therewith to be Content!"

The End.