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Updated: May 7, 2025
He was hurt by the long silence of his father a silence unbroken now in months, and by H lne's withdrawal, which was marked enough to make him prolong the intervals between his visits to her, and baffled him on those rare occasions when they met. His life became somber and, as lightning comes only to clouds, so to his clouded skies came the flash and the blow of a letter from Africa.
H lne's eyes took on the far-away look that blots out the present world, and clothes a distant vision in flesh and blood. "You saw what you saw to-day," she went on in a voice so low that Lewis leaned forward to catch her words. "Remember that, and then listen. The love that comes to youth is like the dawn of day.
Violet Materlin, accustomed as they were to find youths of his age stupidly callow or at best, in their innocence, mildly exciting. Leighton, seated at H lne's left, watched Lewis curiously. "They've taken to him," said H lne. "Yes," said Leighton. "Nothing wins a woman of the world so quickly as the unexpected.
The man recovered his balance and struck viciously at the servant. Then he clutched the baluster, and stumbled his way up the stairs. Lewis was frightened. He turned and hurried through the great, silent drawing-rooms, through the somber library, to the little passage to H lne's room. He met the footman who had gone to announce him. He did not stop to hear what he said.
By the time H lne came back, Lewis not only knew his liberation, but had begun to bless Folly as we bless the stroke of lightning that strikes at us and just misses. He complied with H lne's summons promptly, but with a deliberation that surprised him, for it was not until he was on the way to her house that he realized that he had no troubles to pour out to her ear.
He pushed by him and knocked at H lne's door. "Come in," she cried. Lewis stood before her. He was excited. "H lne," he said, "there's a man come in a horrible man. He pushed by the servants. He's gone upstairs. I think well, I think he's not himself. Do you want me to do anything?" H lne was standing.
And while she was in the midst of planning, sleep came and made good its ancient right to lock hands with tired youth. Leighton was crestfallen to see in what high spirits Lew had come back from his first day with Natalie. He lost faith at once in H lne's cure. Then, as they went to bed, he clutched at a straw. "Lew," he asked, "did you tell your pal everything?"
Suddenly the full import of H lne's intimate sacrifice in the disrobing of the palpitating sorrow of her life and of his father's immolation of his land of dreams struck him. They had done these things to make him see, and he had remained blind. They had struck the golden chords of the paean of mighty love, and he had clung, smiling and unhearing, to his penny whistle.
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