No deviations, no pitfalls there, no rising and
falling. And now early marriage and safety from so many problems;
with work and honors and wifely love and children: work and rest
and duty to the end. Dent had called him into his room that
morning after he was dressed for his wedding and had started to
thank him for his love and care and guardianship and then had
broken down and they had locked their arms around each other,
trying not to say what could not be said.
He lived again through that long afternoon with his mother. What
had the whole day been to her and how she had risen to meet with
nobility all its sadnesses! Her smile lived before him; and her
eyes, shining with increasing brightness as she dwelt upon things
that meant fading sunlight: she fondling the playthings of his
infancy, keeping some of them to be folded away with her at last;
touching her bridal dress and speaking her reliance on her sons for
sons and daughters; at the close of the long trying day standing at
the foot of the staircase white with weariness and pain, but so
brave, so sweet, so unconquerable. He knew that she was not
sleeping now, that she was thinking of him, that she had borne
everything and would bear everything not only because it was due to
herself, but because it was due to him.
He turned out the lights and sat at a window opening upon the
night. The voices of the land came in to him, the voices of the
vanished life of its strong men.
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