Chapter 1. Our story begins with the tale of a woman named Ella
Orphan. For many years she lived with her Uncle Reg, who was a
man of much importance and who possessed a considerable property. It
was the policy of the Orphan to give his uncle all the satisfaction
in the world; and he endeavoured to do this, as it was his desire.
He, too, had his anxieties, and there was much mystery surrounding
his niece. But she was his niece, and he loved her dearly. Thus,
in spite of his anxious desire to please him, she evinced no
dependence, and he was not satisfied. But the good man, though
cognisant of his niece’s secretiveness, never mentioned it to her,
lest he should cause her to lose her self-control.
And, just as a general knows and dreads treachery in his own camp,
so this good man knew and dreaded the treachery of his niece.
He had never told her he loved her; he would not say it even in his
own mind, but there were times when he looked at her and trembled
within him. She suspected him of loving her, and yet she had never
revealed this secret of her own feelings. She was not a young girl,
for she was past thirty; but she was still very handsome, and her
uncle was proud of her.
She herself knew that, even in her best moments, she was not without
faults and failings, and she, too, feared her uncle. And so it came
to pass that she was very circumspect, very silent in her own
chambers, for she had but a small one to herself. She was very
nervous, for, ever since she had been conscious of the approaching
rupture with her uncle, she had lived in constant fear of
disclosing her trouble to him. She knew he had his enemies, men
and women both. She knew that they lived in constant fear of him.
She knew they feared that he would ruin them by a word. She knew
this, and yet, on the other hand, she knew he would not go down into
the world with the stigma of a bad man upon him. She knew that he
believed in honour; and she believed, too, that he would not ruin
her. She thought of these things, and she felt that he was kind
and noble and loving. She thought of these things and wondered that
she had not confided in him, but she felt that, even if she had
told him, there was no knowing what he would have said to her. It
might have been kind, but she knew also that it would have been a
disgrace to her and she was resolved that nothing should take place
to disclose her trouble. She felt that she must give up her uncle,
but what then? He loved her, and she loved him, and this she was
determined should not be the end of it.
And thus, she feared to reveal the truth. And yet, at the same time,
she was fearful to go down to him and tell him that she loved him.
She was so anxious that she did not know how to act; she could not
make up her mind; and yet her heart yearned for him with a fierce
hurt. As the months and years passed on, she became more and more
constrained and silent, so that the good man, who was fond of his
niece, began to feel that she was more remote from him and that her
whole life was wrapped up in mystery. He felt that, for the love of
her, she was a stranger to him, and was a kind of enigma to him;
but, nevertheless, he loved her with a profound and tender love, and
she loved him in the same way. So it was that, in the full
occupation of his heart, he never once thought of his niece; but
she, on her side, occupied her time with the daily labour of her
house and with her daily duties. She went abroad often, for her
affairs demanded her presence; and, when she was not abroad, she was
busy at home, doing much good with her needle and caring for her
young ones.
And then a time came when the good man, who was a little selfish,
came to the conclusion that he wanted for nothing but his niece.
Her life was wrapped up in mystery to him, but it was necessary to
him, for he loved her with a strange, deep love. She was a thing
which he valued far more than the life of himself. Thus, when this
girl, with her silent ways and her mysterious ways, told him that
she was going away from him, a great anger, an overpowering hatred,
filled his heart, and he could not think of his niece without great
anguish. He did his best to dissuade her from going, but the result
was that he could not persuade her; and so it came about that she
went, and only one little flower was taken to her from the garden of
her uncle. It was the most beautiful flower in the garden, and when
she told him of it he was very glad.
And then the time came when, after a year, she wrote him a long and
affectionate letter, telling him of her love for him, and how, in
spite of all she had told him, he remained her only one. She said
how many and many a time she had thought of him in his garden, and
how she prayed for him and hoped that he would not find this love
evil spoken of or reproached. But he did not know of it. No, the
good man did not know that his niece had been in the garden and that
she had seen his little flower.
And then a time came when he was told of her marriage and that she
lived far away from him. It was this which told the poor old man
that his niece had not informed him of her marriage, for, so far as
he could judge, it was but what she desired. And, indeed, he was
pleased to know that she had married and had children. They were
good and kind, well bred and kind, the good man thought, and he was
sad. The children were like her, quiet, taciturn and mysterious.
They were not like him. They were very much his own people,
although they had been brought up in another house and, for the
children, their mother was dead. He was angry with them, and the
more that he felt the separation between them and his own people,
the more he felt that his niece, if she lived, was dead to him.
After her marriage, she wrote a letter to her uncle, but he could
not read it, for she wrote in a language which, though he could read
it himself, he did not understand. Yet he had learned French, for
that was the language of his early days, and so, as he was very fond
of the dear little girl who had taught him to write his name, he
wrote a letter to her to tell her that he loved her, and asked her
when she should come to see him. And so they ceased to correspond,
for she did not wish to disturb the happy life of her children and
she never wished to come to visit her uncle, even if the whole
earth were hers to give. But, as for her, she loved her uncle, who
was dear to her because he was dear to her. In all the world there
was nothing she would rather have than a sight of her uncle. She
had no other wish than to hold in her arms the man she loved and
have him return the same loving care to her that she had lavished
upon him. In fact, she had no other wish in the world.
The good man felt bitter against her when she took her husband and
her children and went away. He did not speak of her, but he knew
that she had caused him great anguish; and when the children came to
visit him, he could not bear to see them and refused to speak to
them. And then, after a few years, it came to pass that, one day,
the wife of the good man’s brother died, and he was alone in the
world, for his only brother and sister had gone before. And he
became lonely and forlorn, and every day at noon he walked out
without calling, and went to the walled garden where he was wont to
plant his flowers, to look at them and watch their progress. And
now the garden was overgrown with weeds, and the good man knew that
his niece had not come and seen him for many years.
His niece had taken her husband and her children, and it had come to
pass that she was living now, or had lived, on a very humble scale
of life, very remote from him. And now, since this garden was her
own and he was her uncle, he determined that she should come and see
