The Secret of Lonesome Cove Part 49

"Really," she approved, "you're progressing. I begin to feel repaid for my visit, already."

This time Kent looked her in the eye. "You're not very demanding in the matter of returns for your trouble," he remarked. "To come through all this wind and rain and then be content merely to contemplate the outside of a door-that argues an humble spirit. To be sure, however, it's a very good door; one of the most interesting features of our local architecture, and may lead to-all sorts of things."

It was her turn to grow red.

"You haven't asked me about Sedgwick," he continued.

"Is he well?" she inquired formally, but with quickened breath.

"He is more than that. He is cured-and a man. A man," he added meaningly, "for any woman to be proud of."

There was a step on the floor above. Marjorie Blair's hand went to her heart.

"I didn't know he was here," she panted affrightedly. "I came just to-look at the place. Then I saw the light, and I wanted so to come in; but I didn't dare. I can't see him now! I must go! Don't tell-"

Chester Kent raised his voice. "Frank!" he called. "Come down here!

Quick!"

Not twice in his life had Sedgwick heard that tone in his friend's voice. The bungalow shook to his long tread across the floor. The studio door opened and flew shut behind him. He took the stairs at a leap, and on the landing stopped dead.

"Marjorie!" he whispered.

She shrank back a little from the light in his eyes.

"What do you do here?" he said very low.

Still she did not speak, but stood, tremulous, her face half panic, half pa.s.sion.

Un.o.btrusively Kent slid along the wall, like a shadow, and vanished into the night.

"Where have you been?" Sedgwick asked the woman of his love.

"Everywhere. Nowhere. What does it matter?" she faltered. "I've come back."

He went forward and took her hands in his; cold little hands that clung as they touched.

"Why did you never write me?" he asked gently.

"I don't know. I couldn't. Don't ask me to explain. It was just that I-I felt I must come back to you as I had come to you first, unexpected and without a word. Can you understand?"

"No," he said.

"No; I suppose not. A man couldn't."

"Good G.o.d!" he burst out. "Do you realize what it is to live in such a h.e.l.l of uncertainty and longing as I've lived in since you left; to wait, and hope, and lose hope, and hope and wait again for a word that never comes; to eat your heart out with waiting?"

A slow wonderful smile trembled on her lips. "My dear," she said; "I have waited for you all my life."

Suddenly her arms were around him; her cheek was pressed to his own; the breath of her whisper was at his ear.

"Oh, forgive me! I will make it up to you, my dear; my dearest!"

Out in the wind and the rain Chester Kent drew in the deep breath of satisfied and rounded achievement. He had beheld, against the wide window-shade two shadows, which, standing motionless for a moment, a few feet apart, had drawn slowly together as by some irresistible magnetism, and suddenly merged into one. The unintentional eavesdropper nodded, in grave gratulation to the house, then turned away.

"Finished!" he said. "_C'est conclu. Finis. Telos. Das Ende._ And any or all other words of whatever language, meaning a sound conclusion!"

Half an hour later he entered, with due preliminary stamping of mud from clogged feet. Instantly Marjorie went over to him.

"Why, you're wet as a rag!" she cried with a sweetly unconscious a.s.sumption of proprietary interest. "You must go and change at once!"

she added, patting his shoulder.

Kent reached for his ear, changed his mind midway, and scratched his nose. "All right," he said meekly. Over his rather stern-set face there came a singularly winning smile. "You two-" he said: "that's as it should be. That's worth everything."

"No other congratulations will ever sound so good as that, Chet," said Sedgwick in a low voice; "or so unselfish. You've had all the heat and toil of the great game, and I have all the happiness."

"Not quite all, I fancy," returned Kent, smiling at Marjorie.

She took his wet hand between her own. "But it doesn't seem quite fair,"

she protested. "Frank and I have found each other. But you, who have fought our battle for us so splendidly, what reward do you have?"

Chester Kent shook his head. "My dear," he said gently, "the great game isn't played for prizes."

THE END