The Vision of Desire

The Vision of Desire, by
Margaret Pedler

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Title: The Vision of Desire
Author: Margaret Pedler
Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7855] [This file was first posted on

May 24, 2003]
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Language: English
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THE VISION OF DESIRE
BY MARGARET PEDLER
AUTHOR OF THE HERMIT OF FAR END, THE MOON OUT OF
REACH, ETC.

"Heaven but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire And Hell the Shadow from a
Soul on Fire."
--THE RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM

TO BUNTY
(F. MABEL WARHURST)
WITH MY LOVE

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE
CHAPTER
I
ANN'S LEGACY
II THE BRABAZONS OF LORNE
III ON THE TOP OF THE WORLD
IV RATS IN A TRAP
V THE VISITORS' BOOK
VI THE MAN WITH THE SCAR
VII A QUESTION OF ILLUSIONS
VIII A LETTER FROM ENGLAND
IX OLDSTONE COTTAGE
X A DISCOVERY
XI THE LADY FROM THE PRIORY
XII A NEW ACQUAINTANCE
XIII "FRIENDSHIP IMPLIES TRUST"
XIV THE ETERNAL TRIANGLE
XV ANCIENT HISTORY
XVI DREAM-FLOWERS
XVII A SPRIG OF HELIOTROPE

XVIII A BATTLE OF WILLS
XIX ACCOUNT RENDERED
XX REFUSAL
XXI THE RETURN
XXII WILD OATS
XXIII THE TEETH OF THE WOLF
XXIV AFTERMATH
XXV THE HALF-TRUTH
XXVI ENLIGHTENMENT
XXVII THE TRUTH
XXVIII THE GREY SHADOW
XXIX A PATCH OF SUNLIGHT
XXX THE KEEPING OF A PROMISE
XXXI A BARGAIN
XXXII ON BOARD THE "SPHINX"
XXXIII THE VISION FULFILLED

DREAM-FLOWERS
"Beyond the hill there's a garden, Fashioned of sweetest flowers,
Calling to you with its voice of gold, Telling you all that your heart
may hold. Beyond the hill there's a garden fair-- My garden of happy
hours.

"Dream-flowers grow in that garden, Blossom of sun and showers,
There, withered hopes may bloom anew, Dreams long forgotten shall
come true. Beyond the hill there's a garden fair-- My garden of happy
hours!"
MARGARET PEDLER.
NOTE:--Musical setting by Margaret Pedler. Published by Edward
Schuberth & Co., 11 East 22nd Street, New York.

THE VISION OF DESIRE
PROLOGUE
"... It's no use pretending any longer. I can't marry you, I don't suppose
you will ever understand or forgive me. No man would. But try to
believe that I haven't come to this decision hurriedly or without
thinking. I seem to have done nothing but think, lately!
"I want you to forget last night, Eliot. We were both a little mad, and
there was moonlight and the scent of roses.... But it's good-bye, all the
same--it must be. Please don't try to see, me again. It could do no good
and would only hurt us both."
Very deliberately the man read this letter through a second time. At
first reading it had seemed to him incredible, a hallucination. It gave
him a queer feeling of unreality--it was all so impossible, so wildly
improbable!
"I want you to forget last night." Last night! When the woman who had
written those cool words of dismissal had lain in his arms, exquisite in
her passionate surrender. His mouth set itself grimly. Whatever came
next, whatever the future might hold, he knew that neither of them
would be able to forget. There are some things that cannot be forgotten,
and the moment when a man and woman first give their love utterance
in words is one of them.

He crushed the note slowly in his hand till it was nothing more than a
crumpled ball of paper, and raised his arm to fling it away. Then
suddenly his lips relaxed in a smile and a light of relief sprang into his
eyes. It was all nonsense, of course--just some foolish, woman's whim
or fancy, some ridiculous idea she had got into her head which five
minutes' talk between them would dispel. He had been a fool to take it
seriously. He unclenched his hand and smoothed