ed. And in this she found comfort, and a chastened calm. So
that, when at length General Ormiston--incited thereto by the faithful
Clara, who protested that her ladyship must and should dine--returned
to her, he found her storm-tossed no longer, but tranquil in expression
and solicitous for the comfort of others. She had conquered nature by
grace--conquered, in that she had compelled herself to unqualified
submission. If this cup might not pass from her, still would she praise
Almighty God and bless His Holy Name, asking not that her own, but His
will, be done.
It followed that the evening, spent in that strangely noisy,
oscillating, onward-rushing dwelling-place of a railway-carriage, was
not without a certain subdued brightness of intercourse and
conversation. Katherine was neither preoccupied nor distrait, or
unamused even by the small accidents and absurdities of travel. Later,
while preparations were being made by the servants for the coming
night, she went out, with the two gentlemen and Honoria St. Quentin, on
to the iron platform at the rear of the swaying car, and stood there
under the stars. The mystery of these last, and of the dimly discerned
and sleeping land, offered penetrating contrast to the sleeplessness of
the hurrying train with its long, sinuous line of lighted windows, and
to the sleeplessness of her own heart. The fret of human life is but as
a little island in the great ocean of eternal peace--so she told
herself--and then bade that sleepless heart of hers both still its
passionate beating and take courage. And when, at length, she was
alone, and lay down in her narrow berth, peace and thankfulness
remained with Katherine. The care and affection of brother, friends,
and servants, was very grateful to her, so that she composed herself to
rest, whether slumber was granted her or not. The event was in the
hands of God--that surely was enough.
And in the dawn, reaching Rome, the news was so far better that it was
not worse. Richard lived. And when, some seven hours later, the train
steamed into Naples station, and Bates, the house-steward--the marks of
haste and keen anxiety upon him--pushed his way up to the carriage
door, he could report there was this amount of hope even yet, that
Richard still lived, though his strength was as that of an infant and
whether it would wax or wane wholly none as yet could say.
"Then we are in time, Bates?" Lady Calmady had asked, desiring further
assurance.
|