I
am your friend, you know."
Was there reality in Isabel's words? Was she not sublimating the
materials of our thwarted relationship? Turning to Douglas I tried to
tell her what character of thinker he was and how, in spite of any
deficiency that he had, he was a brave heart and a thinking mind and a
needed builder in America.
"It may be," said Isabel. We were sitting in the Gardens of Adonis once
occupied in part by the golden house of Nero, here where St. Sebastian
was bound to a tree and pierced with arrows. What material symbols for
our thoughts! Ruins of walls, columns and capitols lay about us; and on
the air was borne the music of bells and the low murmur of Rome. In this
pause of our conversation I heard a cry and looking up saw Reverdy
running toward us, throwing up his arms in delight and falling upon the
breast of Isabel. She embraced him with all tenderness; then arose and
began to run with him about the garden. In a little while we saw Uncle
Tom approaching slowly. He was much out of breath and looked definitely
ill. How had they found us? Isabel had told Uncle Tom that we might
stroll here; and Reverdy had prevailed upon Uncle Tom to drive this way.
In a few days there was to be a service at St. Peter's which Isabel was
eager to see. She was talking to Uncle Tom about it, begging him to go,
and he was half consenting though reluctant.
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