Chapter 18 - Page 2

And his voice was sad as well as reverent. "Youth would have been more
bold."

In his dark corner of the coach his Grace checked breath to control a
start. In the past he had had visions such as all men have--and all was
lost! And to-morrow his kinsman would have gained courage to look his
new bliss in the face--the autumn of his days would be warmed by a late
glow of the sun, but that long summer which yet lay before himself
would know no flame of gold. The years he had spent in training his
whole being to outward self-control at least did service to him now,
and aided him to calm, affectionate speech.

"You will make her life a happy one, my Lord," he said, "and you will
be a joyous man indeed."

Together they conversed on this one subject until their journey was
over. When they had passed through the hall and stood at length in the
light of the apartment in which it was their custom to sit, Osmonde
beheld in my lord's face the freshness and glow he had marked on his
arrival, increased tenfold, and now he well understood. In truth, the
renewal of his life was a moving thing to see. He stood by the mantel,
his arm resting upon it, his forehead in his hand, for a little space
in silence and as if lost in thought.

"She is a goddess," he said, "and because she is so, can be humble. Had
you but seen her, Gerald, when she spoke. "Tis not I who give,' she
saith. 'You are a great Earl, I am a poor beauty--a shrew--a hoyden. I
give naught but this!' and flung her fair arms apart with a great
lovely gesture and stood before me stately, her beauty glowing like the
sun."

He drew a deep sigh of tenderness and looked up with a faint start.
"'Tis not fair I should fatigue you with my ecstasy," he said. "You
look pale, Gerald. You are generous to listen with such patience."

"I need no patience," answered my lord Duke with noble warmth, "to aid
me to listen to the kinsman I have loved from childhood when he speaks
of his happiness with the fairest woman in the world. Having seen her
to-night, I do not wonder she is called so by her worshippers."

"The fairest and the noblest," said my Lord. "Great Heaven, how often
have I sate alone in this very room calling myself a madman in my
despair! And now 'tis past! Sure it cannot be true?"

"'Tis true, my dear Lord," said Osmonde, "for I beheld it."

"Had you been in my place," his lordship said with his grave, kindly
look, "you need not have wondered at your fortune. If you had lived in
Warwickshire instead of winning laurels in campaign you might have been
my rival if you would--and I a hopeless