And then she thought
of the son, who had drifted into deceit and subterfuge because he was
not strong enough to make war on a thing so helpless. He, also, had died
because he dared not throw off that remorseless tyranny of weakness.
Without that soft yet indomitable influence, he would never have lied
in the beginning, would never have covered his faithlessness with the
hypocrisy of duty.
"You have been a great comfort to her, Mr. Chamberlayne," said Kesiah,
breaking the silence at last.
A low sound, half a sob, half a sigh, escaped the lawyer's lips. "A
spirit like hers needs no other prop than her Creator," he replied.
"It is when one expects her to break down that she shows her wonderful
fortitude," added Kesiah.
"Her consolation now is the thought that she never considered either her
health or her happiness where her son was concerned," pursued the old
man. "She clings pathetically to the memory that she urged him to return
to Europe, and that he chose to remain a few weeks for the pleasure of
hunting. Not a breath stains the purity of her utter selflessness. To
witness such spiritual beauty is a divine inspiration.
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