Love's Pilgrimage Part 71

"I tried to, dear."

"Tell me what you said! Tell me the rest of the letter."

And so he recited it, as well as he could, while she listened, breathless with dismay. "How could you!" she cried.

Then she read over Mr. Harding's letter once more. "You see," she said; "he was simply dazed. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know what to think."

"He'll get over it in time. He had to know, somehow."

"But _why_ did he have to know? Why couldn't things have stayed as they were?"

"But my dear, you are in love with the man, aren't you?"

"But I don't want to marry him, Thyrsis! I don't--I don't love him enough."

"You might have come to it in the course of time," he replied.

"Don't you see that he'd have to give up being a clergyman?" she exclaimed.

"That's been done before," he said.

"But--see it from his point of view! Think of the scandal!"

"I don't think much about scandals," Thyrsis answered. "That part could be arranged."

"But do the laws give people divorces in that way?"

"Our divorce laws are relics of feudalism," he answered. "One does not take them seriously."

"But how can you get around them, Thyrsis?"

"You simply have to admit whatever offense they require."

"But Thyrsis! Think how that would seem to Mr. Harding!"

"My dear," he answered, "if I knew that a divorce was necessary to your happiness, I would take upon myself whatever disgrace was necessary."

Corydon sat gazing at him. "Is it so easy to give me up?" she asked.

"It wasn't easy at all, my dear," he answered. "It was a fight that I fought out."

"But you decided that you could do it!" she exclaimed; and that, he found, was the aspect of the matter that stayed with her in the end. It seemed a poor sort of compliment he had paid her; and how could he make real to her the pangs the decision had cost him? He expected her to take that for granted--in all these years, had he not been able to convince her of his love?

It was the old story between them, he reflected; he was always being called upon to express his feelings, and always reluctant to attempt it.

Just now she wanted him to enter upon an eloquent exposition of how he had suffered and hesitated before he mailed the letter; and she would hang upon his words, and drink them in greedily--and of course, the more convincing he made them, the more she would love _him_.

She could never leave him, she insisted--the idea of giving him up was madness. She had not meant any such thing by falling in love with Mr.

Harding. Why must he be so elemental, so brutally direct? He was like some clumsy animal, blundering about in the garden where she kept her sentimental plants. He frightened her, as he had frightened Mr. Harding.

She stood appalled at this thing which he had done; the truth being that his action had sprung from a certain deep conviction in him, which he never found courage to utter to her.

Section 15. Thyrsis pledged his word that he would write no more to Mr.

Harding; and so they settled down to wait for a reply. But a couple more days pa.s.sed, and still there came nothing.

Corydon was restless and impatient. "What _can_ he be doing?" she exclaimed. Finally it chanced that Thyrsis had to go to Bellevue upon some errand; and so the two drove into town together, and came upon the solution of the mystery.

On the street they met Mr. Jennings, the high-school princ.i.p.al.

"Good-morning," said he. "A fine day." And then, "Have you heard the news about Harding?"

"What news?" asked Thyrsis.

"He's gone away."

"Gone away!"

"He's resigned his pastorate."

Thyrsis stared at the man, dazed; he felt Corydon beside him give a start. "Resigned his pastorate!" she echoed.

"Yes," said the other, "just so."

"But why?"

"We none of us know. We're at our wits' end."

"But--how did you hear it?"

"I'm one of the trustees of the church, and his letter was read last night."

Thyrsis could not find a word to utter. He sat staring at the man in bewilderment.

"What did he say?" cried Corydon, at last.

"He said that for some time he had been dissatisfied with his work, and felt the need of more study and reflection. It quite took our breath away, for n.o.body'd had the least idea that anything was wrong."

"But what's he going to do?"

"Apparently he's going abroad," was the answer--"at least he ordered his mail to be forwarded to an address in Switzerland. And that's all we know."

Then, after a few remarks about the spiritual ferment in the churches, the worthy high-school princ.i.p.al went on his way, and left Corydon and Thyrsis in the middle of the street. For a minute or two they sat staring before them as if in a trance; and then suddenly from Thyrsis'

lips there burst a peal of wild laughter. "By the Lord G.o.d, he ran away from it!" he cried; and he seized Corydon by the arm and cried again, "He ran away from it!"

"Thyrsis!" exclaimed the other. "Don't laugh about it!"

"Don't laugh!" he gasped; and again the convulsion of hilarity swept over him.

But Corydon turned upon him swiftly. "No!" she cried. "Stop! It's no joke!"