"My dear, dear--man," sighed Cleone, clasping him a little more
closely, "so--when will you marry me? For, oh, my Barnabas, if you
must always choose to go the harder way--you must let me tread it
with you, to the very end, my dear, brave, honorable man."
And thus did our Barnabas know, at last, that deep and utter content
which can come only to those who, forgetful of soul-clogging Self
and its petty vanities and shams, may rise above the cynical
commonplace and walk with gods.
Now, in a while, as they sat together in the soft glow of the fire,
talking very little since Happiness is beyond speech, the door
opened and closed and, glancing up, Barnabas was aware of the
Duchess standing in the shadows.
"No, no--sit still, dear children," she cried, with a hand
out-stretched to each, "I only peeped in to tell you that dinner was
almost ready--that is, no, I didn't. I came here to look for
Happiness and, thank God, I've found it! You will be married from my
house in Berkeley Square, of course. He is a great fool, Cleone, this
Barnabas of ours--give him a horse and armor and he would have been
a very--knightly fool. And then--he is such a doubting Jonah--no, I
mean Thomas, of course,--still he's not quite a fool--I mean Barnabas,
not Thomas, who was anything but a fool. Ah! not my hand, dear
Barnabas, I still have lips, though I do wear a wig--there, sir. Now
you, Cleone. Dear Heaven, how ridiculously bright your eyes are,
child. But it's just as well, you must look your best to-night.
Besides, the Marquis is coming to dinner, so is the Captain--so
awkward with his one arm, dear soul! And the Bo'sun--bless his empty
sleeve--no, no--not the Bo'sun's, he has an empty--oh, never mind,
and--oh Lud, where am I? Ah, yes--quite a banquet it will be with
'Glorious John' and Mr. Natty. Dear Heaven, how ridiculously happy I
am, and I know my wig is all crooked. But--oh, my dears! you have
found the most wonderful thing in all this wonderful universe. Riches,
rank, fame--they are all good things, but the best, the greatest,
the most blessed of all is--Love. For by love the weak are made
strong, and the strong gentle--and Age itself--even mine--may be
rejuvenated. I'm glad you preferred your own father to an adopted
mother, dear Barnabas, even though she is a duchess--for that I must
kiss you again--there! And so shall Cleone when I'm gone, so--I'll go.
And oh, may God bless you--always, my dears."
So, looking from one to the other, the Duchess turned away and left
them together.