Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XXII

           OnhiswaydowntoGivre,beforehehadseenEffieLeath,hehadpicturedsomewhatsentimentallythejoyofthemomentwhenheshouldtakeherinhisarmsandreceiveherfirstfilialkiss.Everythinginhimthategotisticallycravedforrest,stability,acomfortablyorganizedmiddle-age,allthehome-buildinginstinctsofthemanwhohassufficientlywooedandwandered,combinedtothrowacharmaboutthefigureofthechildwhomight—whoshould—havebeenhis.Effiecametohimtrailingthecloudofgloryofhisfirstromance,givinghimbackthemagichourhehadmissedandmourned.Andhowdifferenttherealizationofhisdreamhadbeen!Thechild’sradiantwelcome,herunquestioningacceptanceof,thisnewfigureinthefamilygroup,hadbeenallthathehadhopedandfancied.IfMotherwassoawfullyhappyaboutit,andOwenandGranny,too,howniceandcosyandcomfortableitwasgoingtobeforallofthem,herbeaminglookseemedtosay;andthen,suddenly,thesmallpinkfingershehadbeenkissingwerelaidontheoneflawinthecircle,ontheonepointwhichmustbesettledbeforeEffiecould,withcompleteunqualifiedassurance,admitthenew-comertofullequalitywiththeothergodsofherOlympus.

           “AndisSophyawfullyhappyaboutittoo?”shehadasked,looseningherholdonDarrow’snecktotiltbackherheadandincludehermotherinherquestioninglook.

           “Why,dearest,didn’tyouseeshewas?”Annahadexclaimed,leaningtothegroupwithradianteyes.

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