Chapter XIII: The Golden Road

After Rees had left the room Iris stood absolutely motionless by the fire, as if some magic spell was holding her. She was still there when Amy came up shortly afterwards to tell her she was going to bed. “I am too tired to write any more letters to-night,” she said, coming up to her cousin. “Mr. Rees came and told me he had been sent for by Miss Green. Poor man, they never can leave him one evening in peace, and he looked so happy here! I suppose he will be there for most of the night now. Iris, I am most awfully sleepy after not closing my eyes last night; I really must go to bed at once. Good-night, dear; don’t sit up late--I don’t know how you have kept awake all this time.”

“I shall go to bed as soon as ever I am really sleepy,” the girl said, smiling.

Her cousin kissed her affectionately and went off to her room.

When she had gone Iris sank into the chair she had used before, where the imprint of her slender form still rested on the cushions. How much there was to think about! How much had taken place during the last two days! What experiences she had passed through, and how her love for Justin had grown by leaps and bounds! She had wondered about love before, been deeply perplexed at the blinding joy his arms brought her, the almost agonising rapture of his lips. The thought of her own helplessness had staggered her. But now she ceased to wonder. It was useless. She could only acquiesce in the forces placing her so completely in Justin’s power; after all, it was deliciously sweet to be so absolutely dominated by him. How completely he had conquered! Love had not only laid cords about her, chaining her; it had entered her inmost soul, vanquished every emotion, every thought; crept into every corner of her being, till the smallest nerve, veriest particle of tissue, was fused with its mighty glow! She had offered him herself and all she possessed. He had accepted herself, but he had refused the rest. A cloud passed over her face as she remembered this. However, it soon lightened; had he not said she might build the house? She would build it, and how beautiful it should be! She glanced round the room; this would be nothing to the cosiness with which she would surround him! How comfortable she would make him; how happy! What delicious meals she would always have ready for him!

All at once she remembered she knew nothing about housekeeping; and, in Australia, domestic arrangements were not as they were in London. But she would send for her maid she had left with Amy’s servants; she was a most capable woman, and between them they would soon manage to have everything as she wished. Justin’s home should be the most artistic, the most delightful and luxurious place money and refined taste could make it! In such surroundings she would pour her love upon him and make up to him for all his sad, distressing past. He liked dainty, beautiful things; his hard life had not destroyed his fastidious taste; he was warm-hearted and loved the soft touch of clinging arms, cool, soothing hands playing through his hair; he should have all he cared for now.

Her face glowed with a splendid rapture as she looked into the flames.

He had refused to give up work, but she would have a very large orchard laid out; she loved orchards since she had seen the great stretches of fruit-trees in fertile Tasmanian valleys; it would be quite impossible for her to manage it herself; Justin would have to come to the rescue as he always did; he would have to stay at home and help her. She would see that the orchard was big enough to require that. He would never allow her to struggle with workmen, and, besides, dealing with them would occupy his time. Ah, yes, she would soon make life easier for him! How she looked forward to carrying out her plans and making up to him what he had missed in the sad, lonely years! His beautiful grey eyes should be filled with smiles and happy laughter; all melancholy should be chased from them. There would be no wanting and longing any more; she would give all he had asked for. She remembered what he had said that evening and all at once a fine blush suffused her face. She had never realised that the word “husband” could mean so much till she had heard him utter it that night. She knew now. She understood what it implied; the privileges it would grant to the man she should call by this comprehensive, all-embracing name; privileges small, tender, close, large, great, stupendous! She stopped, and drew a tremulous breath; no, she could not think any farther; it was too overwhelming, too astounding! She could not even allow her thoughts to explore this region of intimacy. This inmost shrine should be closed against all intrusion till the time came when Justin was ready to enter it, taking her with him and locking the door behind them.

Then her mind turned to the unselfish way he had responded to the call from Miss Green. How good he was, how chivalrous, how tender! He had left her, given up their blissful evening, to go to a stuffy cottage and help with a fractious invalid. How bare and cheerless the rooms had been on her first visit there; but since then many things, bringing comfort and brightness, had found their way to the gloomy home. The Greens had learned to love her almost as much as they honoured and loved Justin. Their eyes brightened when they saw her pass or come in to talk and read to the sad-faced sufferer. She meant to do much more for them, would have gladly done it all, at once, but she was afraid of embarrassing them with too many gifts till they knew her better.

Suddenly the glow died out of her cheeks as she remembered something Justin had told her on their way home from the moonlit garden. When Mr. Green had heart attacks he was always given brandy, and her lover had sorrowfully confessed what it meant to him, sitting in a small room tainted with the odour of spirits.

While she sat cosily by the fire, was her dear, splendid Justin fighting with that relentless foe which had threatened to ruin his life?

She could not endure the thought! How was she to help him? Then the cavern where they had spent the previous night came before her: the great, brooding darkness, Justin encircled by her arms, while she prayed desperately that he might be delivered from his cruel enemy. She had promised to pray till the answer came; there had been no quiet during the day, but she could pray now. And she did.

She knelt by the big, velvet armchair where her lover had been sitting. Her lover’s need was imperative; might he not even at this moment be engaged in a death struggle with the foe which had conquered him times without number?

* * * * *

Iris prayed till her whole being quivered with the intensity of her ardent petition. She did not know how long she was on her knees, nor did she hear a soft knock, the gentle opening and shutting of the door, and the quiet footsteps of her lover. He stood by the fire gazing at her superb young form kneeling by the dark chair where he had been sitting, her head lifted, her upturned profile white with intensity and passion, sensitive nostrils dilating, mobile lips quivering, the delicate hands tightly clasped. Her face seemed luminous with a light shining from within, and her entreating figure was bathed in the roseate light pouring through the crimson shade.

Involuntarily Justin started, and drew a sharp breath.

She heard him, turned and looked up at him, the unearthly radiance still shining in her starry eyes. Then a quick smile parted her lips and she rose blushingly. The man on the hearthrug stood spellbound. “Iris--Iris!” he murmured.

She came up and laid her hand gently on his sleeve without speaking.

“Iris, were you--praying for--me?” he said huskily.

“Of course,” she replied with sweet candour.

“So it was your prayers that worked--the miracle.”

“Was there a miracle?” she asked eagerly.

“The--the--temptation has--lost its power! It was in that little room to-night--Mr. Green had a larger dose of spirits than usual and--the odour was terrible--to me. I was dreading going into the house because I was tired, and that always makes it harder to--resist. But, though the fumes and their associations were so strong that they would have saturated and nearly maddened me another time, this evening they had no power. I felt them, but somehow they did not seem to penetrate right into me as they have always done before. They seemed to remain outside, as if some great power had barred the door to my senses and shut them completely out. Oh, Iris!” He stopped abruptly, turning his face away.

She caught his hands and pressed them to her heart. “Justin,” she whispered with deep emotion “isn’t it lovely?”

“Iris, it is wonderful, and your prayers have done it!” There was dewy splendour in the grey eyes as they turned to her now.

“_God_ did it,” she said, with sweet simplicity. “He alone is wonderful, Justin; He helps people when He will; and who are we, to question Him when and why He does not?”

He drew her down on the sofa and for some time they sat talking in reverent, hushed tones about things sacred, things spiritual, which had suddenly become absorbingly interesting to them. They talked about God, His wonderful goodness in listening to their prayers and His great power to answer them. They spoke of their own carelessness in having entirely disregarded Him before; they made many plans about the future, how they could show Him their gratitude, learn to please Him and live the kind of lives He meant them to live. They made up their minds that in the future they would specially seek out those who were struggling and suffering as Justin had struggled and suffered, and make them understand there was hope even for them. God was waiting to help every one; He could aid all.

Though Justin was sure that victory was his at last, all the same he felt that he ought to test himself thoroughly before linking Iris’s life to his own; so he decided to go to town for a month and there, amid temptation, prove he could safely live an ordinary life again. Iris objected strongly at first, but after a time she gave in, as she thought it would make her lover’s mind easier if he had undergone this severe test.

They sat talking, the fair head close to the black one, cheek often pressing cheek, fingers entwined.

“And now, Iris,” said Justin, “I want you to promise me something. If I keep quite all right in town, will you marry me _as soon as ever I come back_?”

The girl lowered her head to his firm, strong shoulder. “Oh, Justin, I should love to,” she whispered with fluttering breath.

“You would really?” he asked happily, drawing her closer.

“You know I would.”

“I am going to have a good talk to your cousin to-morrow, and, if she thinks it is fair to you, we shall be married as soon as I return.”

She raised her face once more to his. “Justin,” she said, a deep devotion shining in her eyes, “you have made me happy beyond this world. My love for you has enabled me to win to the Golden Gates, and every step onwards can only be taken in the strength of that love.”

He sat gazing at her, his face aglow with adoration. “Dearest one, then your love will draw me there too--I shall be with you on the Golden Road.”

“Yes,” she said, her face illumined by the light of her pure soul. “We shall walk there for the rest of our lives together till we win right to the dwelling-place of God.”

“May it be so!” said Justin in very low tones. “And, Iris, do you realise that this is our betrothal night? It has begun on the shining road.”

“Yes,” she said, pressing closer to him, “from to-night we are each other’s and--His.”

A few minutes later two figures knelt in the soft, roseate light; they were clinging to each other, but their souls were turned towards--God, the Giver of Love.