The
great war was gone for them. He was only twenty-two, but his experience
had made him mentally much older, and she, too, had gained in knowledge
and command of herself by all through which she had passed.
She showed to John a spirit and courage which he had never seen
surpassed in any woman, and mingled with it all was a lightness and wit
that filled the whole house with sunshine, despite the great storm that
raged continually without. In the music-room was a piano, and she played
upon it the beautiful French "little songs" that John loved. There were
books and magazines in plenty, and now he read to her and then she read
to him. Sometimes they sat in silence and through the thick glass of the
windows watched the snow driving by.
The hours were too few for John. He served her as the crusader served
his chosen lady. The spirit of the old knights of chivalry that had
descended upon him still held him in a spell that he did not wish to
break. Often she mocked at him and laughed at him, and then he liked her
all the better. No placid, submissive woman, shrinking before the
dangers, would have pleased him. In her light laughter and her banter,
even at his expense, he read a noble courage and a lofty soul, and in
their singular isolation it was given to him to see her spirit, so
strong and yet so rarely sweet in a manner that the circumstances of
ordinary life could never have brought forth.
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