CHAPTER XL.

"CAN YOU FORGIVE ME?"

On the evening of the same day Aaron and Rachel were alone in their house in Prince's Gate. Rose had taken her leave of them, and she and her father were traveling to Portsmouth, Mr. Moss with a heavy heart; he was older than Aaron, and was not so courageous in the hour of adversity.

"What makes you so melancholy, father?" said Rose.

"When you reach my age, Rose," he replied, "I hope you will not discover that life is a dream."

The remark seemed to him rather fine and philosophical, but had he been asked to explain its precise meaning he would have found it difficult.

"I hope I shall, father," said Rose as she leaned back and thought of her lover; "a happy dream."

"I am glad to get back to you and to our dear home," Rachel was saying to her husband at the same moment. "You must never send me away again. Indeed, dear Aaron, if you intend it I shall for once in my life be rebellious, and shall refuse to go."

She spoke tenderly and playfully, and held his hand in hers, as in the olden days.

"Nevertheless, my love, your short visit to the seaside has done you good."

"Yes, dear, I am almost well; I feel much stronger."

"There is the justification," said Aaron. "I am not happy away from you, but there are occasions when it is our duty to make sacrifices. This is the longest separation there has been between us in the twenty-six years of our married life."

"How time has flown!" she mused. "Twenty-six years of happiness. It has always been the same, dear husband, whether we were poor or rich, I cannot recall a day in the past without its flower which money could not purchase."

"You make my task easier, Rachel," said Aaron. "I have something to disclose to you."

"And it is not good news, love," she said in a tone of much sweetness.

"It is not good news, Rachel. By what means have you divined that?"

"I see without eyes. In the early days of my blindness I used to tell you that I was acquiring new senses. It is true. Some accent in your voice, the touch of your hand, conveys the message to my mind, and I wait in patience, as I am waiting now. Aaron, my dear husband, I have known for some time past that you have a sorrow which one day you will ask me to share. How have I known it? I cannot tell, but it is clear to me. You have not had a joy in your life apart from me. It is my right, is it not, to share your sorrows?"

"It is your right, Rachel, and you shall share them. I have not been without my errors; once in the past my footsteps strayed, but in the straying I inflicted suffering upon no human being."

"Of that I am sure, my love. It is human to err, but it is not in your nature to inflict suffering or commit an injustice. I am not pressing you to confide in me before, in your judgment, the proper time arrives. Nothing can shake my faith and trust in you."

He regarded her in silence a while. The turn the conversation had taken favored the disclosure of his secret respecting Ruth, but he feared to speak of that and of his ruin in the same hour. The latter was the more imperative, because it demanded immediate action, and he resolved to confine himself to it on this evening.

"Your loving instinct, Rachel, has not misled you. I have a secret which I have concealed from you."

"Fearing to give me pain, dear husband."

"Yes; and fearing that it would disturb the faith you have in me. I place so high a value upon it that my life would be dark indeed were I to lose it."

"That is impossible, dear. Banish the fear from your mind. Were the hands of all men raised against you I would stand before you as your shield, and they would not dare to strike. So long as you are by my side I am happy and content."

"Dear life of my life, you inspire me with hope. But one secret which oppresses me cannot be divulged to-night. It is of my worldly troubles I must speak now; the rest shall follow at a more fitting time. Rachel, for twenty years Heaven has showered prosperity upon me; all my undertakings have succeeded, and I have heard it said, 'Everything Aaron Cohen touches turns to gold.' It really has been so. I accumulated a large fortune, and--with humbleness I say it--no man, however high or low his station, was the loser by it. But a breath may destroy what the labors of a lifetime have created. If such a reverse has come to me, Rachel, how would you accept it?"

"Without murmuring, love," she said, drawing him close to her, and kissing his lips. "I should have but one regret--that I could not work for you as you have worked for me. But that, also, is God's will, and I have never repined. Who would presume to question his wisdom? His name be praised forever and ever!

"Amen! In our old home in Gosport you were happy."

"I have never been happier, Aaron. I have sometimes felt pride in your successes, but surely that is pardonable. Love is the most precious gift that life can bestow. All else is nought. It is our soul life and dies not with the body."

"You do not value money, Rachel?"

"For the good it may do to others, not for the good it can do to the possessor; for the suffering it may be made the means of relieving, for the blessings it may bring into the lives of the afflicted and unfortunate. Then it becomes Godlike, and when so used the angels smile approval."

"Dear love, you lighten my burden. When I won you my life was blessed. Listen, Rachel. This is a dark day for many men who find themselves fallen from their high estate. Despair sits in many homes at this hour."

"But not in ours, Aaron, whatever has happened."

"Thank God! It is my happy belief that this hour is not dark for us. It was my intention, Rachel, to retire altogether from business and public life, and to that end I took advantage of your absence from London to settle my affairs. My resolution was prompted by the secret, the burden of which, although I have not yet disclosed it to you, you have made it lighter for me to bear. Brought to public knowledge, which I fear its peculiar nature will render inevitable, it will be immediately said that I am unfitted to retain my position as a leader and teacher. To tarry until that judgment was pronounced would be to aggravate the disaster, and I resolved to anticipate the verdict by resigning the honors which have been conferred upon me. I have done so, and I have withstood the pressure that has been put upon me to withdraw my resignation. An examination of my worldly affairs resulted in my finding myself in possession of nearly a hundred thousand pounds. I divided this into three portions, one of which I intended to retain in order that we might pass what years of life remained to us in comfort; the second portion I devoted to charity, and it has thus been distributed; the third portion was devoted to repairing to some extent the error of which I had been guilty."

He looked at Rachel after he had uttered these words, which he had spoken with averted head. There was no change in her. Sweetness and sympathy were expressed in her beautiful face, and it seemed as if her soul's light dwelt thereon.

"Do you approve, Rachel?"

"Entirely, love. Let me hold your hand."

He continued. "The money I intended for our private use was lodged in a City bank, and in this bank I hold shares for which I am liable to the depositors. Yesterday Mr. Moss brought me news of a commercial crisis in which I discerned----"

"Go on, dear husband, I am prepared for the worst."

"In which I discerned my ruin. This morning I convinced myself that the news was true."

"And we are poor again," said Rachel in a gentle voice.

"And we are poor again. Everything is lost. I do not know the extent of my liabilities upon the shares I hold in the bank, but it is certain that my property in this house and what it contains will scarcely be sufficient to meet them. I have nothing more to tell of my worldly trouble, Rachel."

"Dear love," said Rachel sweetly, with her arms around him, "it is a small trouble, and we will meet it bravely. With all my heart and soul I will help you to meet it. We cannot remain in the house; the expenses are too great."

"You echo my own words, Rachel. I have already discharged the servants, and have paid what is due to them. To-morrow they take their departure, and we must be content to move into humbler quarters."

"I am content," said Rachel. "I am happy. We have each other. What does Prissy say?"

"She will not leave us. With or without my consent, she insists upon sharing our poverty."

"Dear, faithful girl! Let it be as she wishes, love. I know her constant, devoted nature. She will be a comfort to both of us."

She paused before she spoke again, and then it was in a voice trembling with emotion.

"We commence a new life to-morrow. O Aaron, dear husband, my heart is aching, not because we are poor, not for myself, but for you, love, for you! Aaron, you have said nothing of Ruth. Let this night end your sorrows, and let me share them now. It is the thought of Ruth that oppresses you. I feel it, I have known it long, but did not dare to mention it. Give me all your confidence; I am well, I am strong. There is nothing I cannot bear for your dear sake."

He could not resist the appeal. In a voice as tremulous as her own he made confession of his sin, and not for one moment while he spoke would she relinquish his hand. And when his confession was ended she held him close in her embrace and mingled her tears with his.

"Can you forgive me, Rachel?"

"It is for me to bless, not to forgive," she sobbed. "For me you strayed, for me you have suffered. Comfort his bruised heart, O God, who sees and judges! And, Aaron, dear and honored husband, we have still a son to bless our days!"