Dodo Trilogy - Complete Edition: Dodo, Dodo's Daughter & Dodo Wonders. E. F. Benson

Love's light is o'er us flung,

       Each hour for us is infinite,

       And all the world is young.

       There is none else but thou and I

       Beneath the heaven's high dome,

       Love's ministers around us fly,

       Love leads us safely home.

      Dodo buried her face in her hands with a low cry. "I have been cruel and wicked," she sobbed to herself. "I have despised the best that any man could ever give me, and I can never make him amends. I will tell him all. I will ask him to forgive me. Oh, poor Chesterford, poor Chesterford!"

      She sat there sobbing in complete misery. She saw, as she had never seen before, the greatness of his love for her, and her wretched, miserable return for his gift.

      "It is all over; I know he will die," she sobbed. "Supposing he does not know me—supposing he dies before I can tell him. Oh, my husband, my husband, live to forgive me!"

      She was roused by a touch on her shoulder. Mrs. Vivian stood by her.

      "You must be quick, Dodo," she said. "There is not much time."

      Dodo did not answer her, but went upstairs. Before the bedroom door she stopped.

      "I must speak to him alone," she said. "Send them all out."

      "They have gone into the dressing-room," said Mrs. Vivian; "he is alone."

      Dodo stayed no longer, but went in.

      He was lying facing the door, and the shadow of death was on his face. But he recognised Dodo, and smiled and held out his hand.

      Dodo ran to the bedside and knelt by it.

      "Oh, Chesterford," she sobbed, "I have wronged you cruelly, and I can never make it up. I will tell you all."

      "There is no need," said he; "I knew it all along."

      Dodo raised her head. "You knew it all?" she asked.

      "Yes, dear," he said; "it was by accident that I knew it."

      "And you behaved to me as usual," said Dodo.

      "Yes, my darling," said he; "you wouldn't have had me beat you, would you? Don't speak of it—there is not much time."

      "Ah, forgive me, forgive me!" she cried. "How could I have done it?"

      "It was not a case of forgiving," he said. "You are you, you are Dodo. My darling, there is not time to say much. You have been very good to me, and have given me more happiness than I ever thought I could have had."

      "Chesterford! Chesterford!" cried Dodo pleadingly.

      "Yes, darling," he answered; "my own wife. Dodo, I shall see the boy soon, and we will wait for you together. You will be mine again then. There shall be no more parting."

      Dodo could not answer him. She could only press his hand and kiss his lips, which were growing very white.

      It was becoming a fearful effort for him to speak. The words came slowly with long pauses.

      "There is one more thing," he said. "You must marry Jack. You must make him very happy—as you have made me."

      "Ah, don't say that," said Dodo brokenly; "don't cut me to the heart."

      "My darling," he said, "my sweet own wife, I am so glad you told me. It has cleared up the only cloud. I wondered whether you would tell me. I prayed God you might, and He has granted it me. Good-bye, my own darling, good-bye."

      Dodo lay in his arms, and kissed him passionately.

      "Good-bye, dear," she sobbed.

      He half raised himself in bed.

      "Ah, my Dodo, my sweet wife," he said.

      Then he fell back and lay very still.

      How long Dodo remained there she did not know. She remembered Mrs. Vivian coming in and raising her gently, and they left the darkened room together.