"He went away," said Miss Ainslie, after a long silence, as if in
continuation of something she had said before, "and I was afraid. He had
made many voyages in safety, each one more successful than the last, and
he always brought me beautiful things, but, this time, I knew that it
was not right for him to go."
"When he came back, we were to be married." The firelight shone on the
amethyst ring as Miss Ainslie moved it on her finger. "He said that he
would have no way of writing this time, but that, if anything happened,
I would know. I was to wait--as women have waited since the world began.
"Oh, Ruth, do you know what waiting means? Mine has lasted through
thirty-three interminable years. Each day, I have said: 'he will come
to-morrow.' When the last train came in, I put the light in the window
to lead him straight to me. Each day, I have made the house ready for an
invited guest and I haven't gone away, even for an hour. I couldn't bear
to have him come and find no welcome waiting, and I have always worn
the colour he loved. When people have come to see me, I've always been
afraid they would stay until he came, except with you--and Carl. I was
glad to have you come to stay with me, because, lately, I have thought
that it would be more--more delicate than to have him find me alone. I
loved you, too, dear," she added quickly.
"I--I asked your aunt to keep the light in the window. I never told her
why, but I think she knew, and you must tell her, dear, the next time
you see her, that I thank her, and that she need never do it again. I
thought, if he should come in a storm, or, perhaps, sail by, on his way
to me--"
There was another long silence, then, with an effort, she went on. "I
have been happy, for he said he wanted me to be, though sometimes it was
hard. As nearly as I could, I made my dream real. I have thought, for
hours, of the things we would say to each other when the long years were
over and we were together again. I have dressed for his eyes alone, and
loved him--perhaps you know--"
"I know, Miss Ainslie," said Ruth, softly, her own love surging in her
heart, "I know."
"He loved me, Ruth," she said, lingering upon the words, "as man never
loved before. In all of God's great universe, there was never anything
like that--even in Heaven, there can't be anything so beautiful, though
we have to know human love before we can understand God's. All day, I
have dreamed of our little home together, and at night, sometimes--of
baby lips against my breast. I could always see him plainly, but I never
could see our--our child. I have missed that. I have had more happiness
than comes to most women, but that has been denied me."