The Keepers of the People

1858“You have supplanted me,” Althea went on; and the words of the indictment came broken, each with an effort, from a parched throat. “For two years I was his comrade — I shared his work, and I shared his watch — I laughed with him when he would smile — I cheered him when he came tired — in all the toil of ruling I was his helper. And then, when his heart was turning to me, you came and robbed me of it. You — my friend! Oh, how could you, Ruth? How could you?”

1859“I never knew! I never dreamt of it!” cried Ruth.

1860“How could you not know? You know that no woman could live with him as I have lived with him — and not — and not — love him,” said Althea.

1861“I did not know! I did not! You were a child!” cried Ruth.

1862“Could I help keep the Varandals and be a child?” said Althea. “But how is it? Why is it?” she went on with a hoarse weariness. “If you are beautiful, I am beautiful too! Why should it be you whom he loves? Why is it? Tell me — if you can.”

1863Ruth gazed at her with wet eyes, in a vast distress: she was so pitiful a picture of anguish, so pathetic a figure of a child. “Yes; you are beautiful, Althea, very beautiful;” she said softly. “But this matter of men’s loving!” She threw out her hands. “It is all a mystery! You are beautiful like the sunlit snow on a mountain. But I — I — I think — am more like the warm sunshine.”

1864Althea gazed at her. “I see — I see,” she wailed in a despair. “But where is my comfort? For you will lie in his arms and not I. And but for you, it would have been I. I see it now, too late, very plain. I was his comrade, his helper — looking for no reward, I swear it — yet the reward would surely have come, the fair reward — you have snatched it from me — you have robbed me!”

1865“I see now! It is true! Unknowingly, I have robbed you!” said Ruth; and dropping on one knee beside her, she laid her hand on Althea’s arm: “What can I do?”