“You talk a lot of nonsense, don’t you?” he asked patiently. “Does Mr. Corder understand it?”
“I shouldn’t think of trying to find out,” she replied. “Mr. Corder’s mind moves in different spheres from mine and I just accept the fact.”
She smiled trustfully at Mr. Blenkinsop, who said, “I should hope it does.”
“So does Mr. Corder,” Miss Mole said demurely and, to her great surprise, Mr. Blenkinsop let out a modest burst of laughter.
“I didn’t know you could do it,” she said.
“What?” Mr. Blenkinsop asked, preparing to be affronted.
“I didn’t know you could laugh and I don’t know why you did.”
“Because you meant me to,” he said mournfully, “and I haven’t had many chances.”
“You should make them.”
“And I’m worried.”
“Ah!” Hannah said. “Can’t you balance the cash properly, or whatever it is you do in a bank?”
“I can’t balance Mr. Corder’s religious views with my own.”
“Is that all? Who could? I shouldn’t worry about that. I doubt whether he knows what his are.”
“But I’m a member of his church.”
“You can retire, I suppose?”
“I’m going to,” said Mr. Blenkinsop. “When my mother was alive, I let things drift. It didn’t seem worth while to upset her, but lately I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not honest. The last sermon I heard him preach, on the subject of marriage, well, to put it plainly, it made me sick.”
“Too lax?” Hannah suggested.
“Too idiotic,” Mr. Blenkinsop said resignedly, and Hannah, taking a long time over her next stitch, asked carefully, “When was it? I must have missed that one.”
“Oh, one evening, a few weeks ago.”
“I see,” Hannah said, and she paused in her work to connect Mr. Blenkinsop’s views on marriage with the complicated love affair of which she suspected him. “And you’ve come tonight to tell him what you think.”
“No. I don’t want to lose my temper. I’m going to write to him. Argument would be a waste of time.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve warned me. It will be a stormy day, I’m afraid.”
“Will it really? I’m sorry. But don’t you think I ought to do it?”
“I don’t feel so keenly as you do about marriage, Mr. Blenkinsop.”
“I didn’t say I felt particularly keenly.”
“No, you didn’t say so,” Hannah said, with an irritating smile.
“That simply happened to be the subject that brought things to a head. I differ fundamentally from Mr. Corder and the doctrines he has to teach.”
“Exactly,” Hannah said, “so you’d better declare your independence as quickly as possible. You’ll feel more comfortable, won’t you? How’s the chess getting on?”
“I knew you’d ask that, sooner or later,” he said, trying not to smile.
“And the country walks?” Hannah persisted, “You want to hide your light under a bushel, but Mrs. Gibson brings it out. You’re doing good by stealth and blushing to have it known.”
“No,” said Mr. Blenkinsop with an effort, “I’m afraid my motives are not altogether unselfish,” and he looked as if he would have said more if he had not heard someone entering the hall.
Hannah hastily put away her sewing and wished she could do the same with Mr. Blenkinsop. “Every room,” she said, looking at him with twinkling eyes, “ought to have two doors. If this is Mr. Corder, what are you going to do?”
“I shall say good evening and walk out.”
“And what about me?”
“You?”
“He won’t approve of finding a young spinster like me alone in the house with a single gent.”
“Then he’ll have to put up with it,” Mr. Blenkinsop said, and Hannah was telling him that so bold a spirit was wasted on a bank when Robert Corder opened the door.
XX
Mr. Blenkinsop would have been more tactful and more chivalrous if he had explained his presence by pretending he had been waiting for this arrival. He did nothing of the kind and, after shaking hands with Robert Corder, he went away and Robert Corder, looking hurt, retired to his study. It was his habit to go there at once, when he came home, unless he heard sounds which roused his curiosity, and he was very curious, from some other part of the house, and Hannah wished she had instructed Mr. Blenkinsop to talk in whispers. She was sorry his visit had been cut short just as he was beginning to be interesting and though it was a little puzzling that he should seek her out, Hannah, who was not modest, could make it natural enough. Mr. Blenkinsop, bewildered, and troubled by a new situation, had instinctively turned to the person who could understand it. And she could understand everything, she thought, in a kind of ecstasy. She knew that Robert Corder was now trying to decide whether he should ask questions and risk the evasions which he could not believe were snubs, or find the outlet he wanted in a reprimand, and he would not know what he was going to do until he saw her. That she would presently witness the solution to this problem was some compensation for Mr. Blenkinsop’s departure, and at a suspicion of rebellion against the necessity for making her visits to her old friend on the sly and receiving those of her young one under the shadow of Robert Corder’s displeasure, she reminded herself that these conditions prevented dullness. There had been peace between her and Robert Corder for the last two weeks and she told herself that she had no wish to break the truce, but she was not going to turn the other cheek: that was part of his profession, not hers, and when she took his tea into the study and saw him writing at his desk, she thought he was obeying the command laid on him, for he raised his head and thanked her, and she felt disappointed, but until she was actually through the door, she could not be sure he had nothing to say to her and
