Cheynes voice seemed a trifle strained, as though the music had troubled him. I know the march, but the composer never wrote what you have played to-night, he said. It was may mine be defended from it! the shuffle of beaten men. How could you have felt what you put into the music?
No, said Hetty. Your men could never march like that. It was footsteps going west, and I could not have originated their dragging beat. I have heard it.
There was a little silence, until Cheyne said softly, One more.
Then, said Hetty, you will recognize this.
The chords rang under her fingers until they swelled into confused and conflicting harmonies that clashed and jarred upon the theme. Their burden was strife and struggle and the anguish of strain, until at last, in the high clear note of victory, the theme rose
supreme.
Yes, said Flora Schuyler, we know that. We heard it with the Kaiser in Berlin. Only one man could have written it; but his own countrymen could not play it better than you do. A little overwhelming. How did you get down to the spirit of it, Hetty?
Lights were brought in just then, and they showed that the girls face was a trifle paler than usual, as closing the piano, she turned, with a little laugh, upon the music-stool.
Oh! she said, I dont quite know, and until to-night it always cheated me. I got it at the depot no, I didnt. It was there I felt the marching, and Larry brought the prairie back to me; but I couldnt have seen what was in the last music, because it hasnt happened yet.
It will come? said Flora.
Yes, said Hetty, wherever those weary men are going to.
And to every one of us, said Cheyne, with a curious graveness they afterwards remembered. That is, the stress and strain it is the triumph at the end of it only the few attain.
Once more there was silence, and it was a relief when the unemotional Mrs. Schuyler rose.
Now, she said, and her voice, at least, had in it the twang of the country, you young folks have been solemn quite long enough. Cant you talk something kind of lively?
They did what they could, and for Cheyne could on occasion display a polished wit light laughter filled the room, until Caroline Schuyler, perhaps not without a motive, suggested a stroll on the lawn. If there was dew upon the grass none of them heeded it, and it was but seldom anyone enjoyed the privilege of pacing that sod when Mr. Schuyler was at home. Every foot had cost him many dollars, and it remained but an imperfect imitation of an English lawn. There was on the one side a fringe of maples, and it was perhaps by Mrs. Schuylers contrivance that eventually Hetty found herself alone with Cheyne in their deeper shadow. It was not, however, a surprise to her, for she had seen the mans desire and tacitly fallen in with it. Miss Torrance had discovered that one seldom gains anything by endeavouring to avoid the inevitable.
Hetty, he said quietly, I think you know why I have come to-night?
The girl stood very still and silent for a space of seconds, and afterwards wondered whether she made the decision then, or what she had seen and heard since she entered the depot had formed it for her.
Yes, she said slowly. I am so sorry!
Cheyne laid his hand upon her arm, and his voice trembled a little. Dont be too hasty, Hetty, he said. I would not ask you for very much just now, but I had ventured to fancy you could in time grow fond of me. I know I should have waited, but I am going away to-morrow, and I only want you to give me a promise to take away with me.
It was with a visible effort the girl lifted her head and looked at him. I feel horribly mean, Jake, but I cant, she said. I ought to have made you realize that long ago, but I liked you, and, you see, I didnt quite know. I thought if I waited a little I might be more sure of what I felt for you!
Then, said the man, a trifle hoarsely, give me what you can now and I will be patient.
Hetty turned half way from him and closed one hand. The man was pleasant to look upon, in character and disposition all she could desire, and she had found a curious content in his company. Had that day passed as other days had done, she might have yielded to him, but she had been stirred to the depths of her nature during the last few hours, and Flora Schuylers warning had been opportune. She had, as she had told him, a liking for Jackson Cheyne, but that, she saw very clearly now, was insufficient. Destiny had sent Larry Grant, with the associations that clung about him, into the depot.
No, she said, with a little tremble in her voice, it wouldnt be honest or fair to you. I am not half good enough for you.
The man smiled somewhat mirthlessly, but his voice was reproachful. You always speak the truth, Hetty. My dear, knowing what the best of us are, I wonder how I dared to venture to ask you to share your life with me.
Hetty checked him with a little gesture. Cant you understand? she said. The girl who sang to you now and then isnt me. I am selfish, discontented, and shallow, and if you hadnt heard me sing or play you would never have thought of me. There are people who sing divinely, and are you see, I have met them with the mask off just horrible.