The Definite Object Part 29

"Precisely, Spike! Compared to my sordid poverty Lazarus was rich, and as for the loneliness of my existence the--er--abomination of desolation was a flowery garden!"

"And how did you happen to meet Ar--"

A plate crashed to pieces on the floor, and turning, she beheld Spike very red and rueful of visage.

"'Fraid I've bent a plate, Hermy," he explained, and winking desperately at Ravenslee, he stooped to gather up the fragments.

"Oh, Arthur, and we have so few--"

"Yes, I know--but it's only the old cracked one, Hermy."

"You've broken an awful lot of things lately, boy dear," she sighed.

"Never mind--get on with your supper, dear."

"Oh, I'm all right, but what about you? Gee, Hermy, you sure do talk!"

"Do I, dear?"

"Well, I guess! You keep on at poor old Geoff so he don't get a chance for a real proper chew."

"But then you see," said Ravenslee, "I would much rather talk than eat--sometimes."

"But say, Geoff--"

"Miss Hermione, you were asking how I met--"

"Hey, Geoff!" said Spike hoa.r.s.ely.

"How I met your brother," continued Ravenslee, silencing the boy with a look. "Miss Hermione, I'll tell you full and freely." Here Spike took a gulp of tea and choked, also his brow grew clammy, and he stared with dilating eyes at Ravenslee, who began forthwith:

"Once upon a time, Miss Hermione, that is to say upon a certain dark night, a man sat alone, physically and mentally alone, and very wretched because his life was empty of all achievement--because, having been blessed with many opportunities, he had never done anything worth while.

And as he sat there, looking back through the wasted years, this miserable fool was considering, in his wretched folly, the cowardly sin of self-destruction, because he was sick of the world and all things in it--especially of his own useless self! But I hope I don't--er--bore you, do I?"

"No," she answered a little breathlessly, gazing at him with eyes deep and tender; "go on--please go on!"

"Well," continued Ravenslee gravely, "Destiny, or Heaven, or the Almighty, taking pity on this sorry fool, sent to him an angel in the shape of--your brother."

"Of--Arthur?" she exclaimed, while Spike's rigid att.i.tude relaxed, and he drew a sudden, deep breath.

"Of Arthur!" nodded Ravenslee. "And Arthur lifted him out of the Slough of Despond and taught him that life might be a useful thing after all, if he could but find some object to help him--one who might inspire him to n.o.bler things. And so he came here, hoping to find this object."

"An object?" she enquired softly.

"The Definite Object!" he answered, "with capital letters. One who might make life truly worth while. One who, teaching him to forget himself, should lift him to better things. An object to live for, work for, and if necessary to--die for!"

Here Spike, finding himself utterly forgotten again, sighed in deep and audible relief, and taking up knife and fork, fell to with renewed appet.i.te, while Hermione, chin rested on folded hands, gazed into Ravenslee's grave face.

"Do you think he will ever--find his Object?"

"Oh, yes!"

"You seem very--confident."

"I am! You see, she's found."

"She?" exclaimed Hermione, her eyes beginning to waver.

"With a capital S," said he, leaning nearer. "The Woman! And it's right here that his difficulties begin, because in the first place he is so humble and she is so proud and--"

"Proud?" said she, glancing up swiftly.

"And so very beautiful!" he continued.

"Oh!" said she, and this time she did not look at him.

"Say," quoth Spike, "I think I could go another drumstick, Geoff."

"And in the second place, he is so unworthy and she so--"

"An' a bit more stuflin', Geoff," sighed Spike.

"Can she--help him?" enquired Hermione, stirring her tea absently.

"She is the only one who can--help me."

"Oh!" said Hermione again, very softly this time, stirring a little faster; and, conscious of his glance, flushed deliciously and was silent awhile. As for Spike, he glanced from one rapt face to the other and--unostentatiously helped himself to more turkey.

"But," said Hermione at last, "how can--she help?"

"By constant a.s.sociation," answered Ravenslee, "by affording me the daily example of her sweet self-forgetfulness and blameless life."

"Are you sure she is so--very good?"

"I am sure she is braver and n.o.bler than any woman I have ever known!"

Once more Spike glanced from the flushed beauty of his sister's half-averted face to Ravenslee's s.h.i.+ning eyes, and boldly helped himself to more seasoning.

"Have you known her very long, Mr. Geoffrey?"

"Long enough to know she is--the only woman!"

"Say, Geoff," sighed Spike, "I guess old Pffeff was right about this bird; she kind o' melts--'n' say--she's meltin' fast! If you two don't stop chewin' d' rag an' get busy you'll be too late for this bird, because this bird is sure a bird of pa.s.sage and--Holy Gee!" he broke off, as a knock sounded on the outer door, "who's this, I wonder?"

Before he could rise, Hermione had vanished into the pa.s.sage.

"Say, Geoff," he whispered, "how if it's Bud?"

Ravenslee frowned and pushed back his chair, but in that moment they heard Hermione's glad welcome: "Why, Ann, you dear thing, you're just in time for the turkey--come right in."