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Updated: August 27, 2024
"Not half as much as Welsley means to me," she replied with earnest sincerity. "We are all looking forward to greeting your gallant, self-sacrificing husband presently, very soon I hope. Good-night to you. It has been" he paused, looked at Rosamund and gently pressed her hand, "a most fragrant evening." A most fragrant evening!
Her sudden unselfishness Dion believed it was that touched him to the heart. But it made him long to do something, many things, for her. "I'm determined that you and Welsley shan't part from each other forever," he said. "We'll hit on some compromise. This house is on our hands, anyhow, till the spring." "Perhaps we could sublet it," said Rosamund, trying to speak with brisk cheerfulness.
Another reason which made Rosamund care very much for the autumn was this: in the autumn the religious atmosphere which hung about the Precincts of Welsley seemed to her to become more definite, more touching, the ancient things more living and powerful in their message. "Welsley always sends out influences," she had once said to Father Robertson. "But in certain autumn days it speaks.
But as she had carried Elis with her when she left it, and the dear tombs and temples of Greece, when she had bidden good-by to the bare and beautiful land whose winds and whose waters are not as the winds and the waters of any other region, so she would carry away with her Welsley, this garden with its seclusion, its old religious atmosphere, the music of the chimes, even the thrush's song from the elder bush.
His effort to make her see the tragedy in its true light had exhausted itself in the garden at Welsley. Her frantic evasion of him had brought it to an end. He could not renew it. Even if he had been ready to renew it those about Rosamund would have dissuaded him from doing so. Every one who was near her saw plainly that "for the present" as they put it Dion must keep out of her life.
Rosamund's lease of the house in the Precincts, "Little Cloisters," as it was deliciously named, had been for six months, from the 1st of March till the 1st of September. As Dion was not coming home yet, and as he wrote begging her to live on at Welsley if she preferred it to London, she was anxious to "renew" for another six months. The question whether Mrs.
On the whole he lost, and Welsley, his mining friend, seeing this began to urge on him more and more the advisability of buying out the majority of stock in a certain Spanish-American gold mine. At first he always made the same answer: "You know as well as I do, Welsley, I would never put a penny into any property I had not inspected." But gradually a desire to inspect it grew up in his mind.
Rosamund walked with Mr. Dickinson on one side of her and the Dean of Welsley and Mrs.
She had been ruthlessly torn away from the exquisite calm in which, with the Hermes, she had been celestially dreaming. Dion had torn her away, Dion who loved her so much. Why had he done it? Even now she did not know. He had taken her out of that dream, and now he was going to take her away from Welsley.
As in Elis the spell of the green wild had been upon Rosamund, so now the spell of these old Precincts was upon her, and spoke to her innermost being, and as in Elis Dion had been woven into her dream of the Wilderness, so now in Welsley Robin was woven into it.
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