During these years he
had believed, that her part in that evening's wedding of souls had
existed in his imagination, only; and had no binding effect upon
her. But his remained. Because those words were true to him then, he
had said them; and, because he had said them, he would consider her
his wife, through life,--and after. It was the intuitive
understanding of this, which had emboldened Jane so to sign her
letter. But how would he reconcile that signature with the view of
her conduct which he had all along taken, without ever having the
slightest conception that there could be any other?
Then Jane remembered, with comfort, the irresistible appeal made by
Truth to the soul of the artist; truth of line; truth of colour;
truth of values; and, in the realm of sound, truth of tone, of
harmony, of rendering, of conception. And when Nurse Rosemary had
said of his painting of "The Wife": "It is a triumph of art"; Garth
had replied: "It is a triumph of truth." And Jane's own verdict on
the look he had seen and depicted was: "It is true--yes, it is
true!" Will he not realise now the truth of that signature; and, if
he realises it, will he not be glad in his loneliness, that his wife
should come to him; unless the confessions and admissions of the
letter cause him to put her away as wholly unworthy?
Suddenly Jane understood the immense advantage of the fact that he
would hear every word of the rest of her letter, knowing the
conclusion, which she herself could not possibly have put first.
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