She put a bowl of steaming soup in front of Ethel. “Drink that,” she said. “I shall be back in a minute.”
Mr. Blenkinsop was turning slowly and coming towards her when she reached the pavement, and she hurried across the road to him.
“It’s all right, it’s all right!” she exclaimed, half laughing, and putting out a hand, she said, “Forgive me. I’ve spoilt your day, I’ve spoilt everything, but it was only a temporary insanity. Now I’m in as right a mind as I ever had.”
“I can’t leave it at that,” Mr. Blenkinsop muttered, holding her hand firmly.
“But it’s too late to get me certified tonight.”
“Can’t you be serious, just for once?” he begged.
“I’ve been serious for hours. That was the mistake. One’s self is the wrong subject for seriousness, Mr. Blenkinsop.”
“But I’m serious for you.”
“I was afraid so. That was why I came out. To tell you there was no need, and to say good night.”
“I shan’t have a good night,” he said testily.
“That will be a change, won’t it?” she asked, and giving his hand a parting pressure and freeing it with some difficulty, she went back into the house.
Ethel was making large eyes over the bowl of soup. “Wherever have you been, Miss Mole?”
“Turning policeman X off his beat. It’s time the poor man had some supper, and I’m hungry, too. Didn’t Miss Withers offer you anything to eat?”
“Yes, she did, but I wouldn’t have it. Of course I wouldn’t! What did she want to interfere for?”
“Why does anyone want to interfere? If we could all live and let live, we should be happier.”
Ethel grew restive. “I know what you’re hinting at, and nobody wants to do you any harm, Miss Mole.”
“They can’t,” Hannah said stoutly.
“But we have to do what’s right.”
“I’m sure Miss Withers used those very words.”
“But it’s so different! I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not wrong just because it vexes Father.”
“That’s true,” Hannah said, “but what does Mr. Pilgrim think about it?”
“He says it helps him to have me there.”
“So you’re trying to help him, and Miss Withers is trying to help your father.”
“No she isn’t. She’s trying to make him think we need somebody to look after us. She said she felt like a mother towards us, Miss Mole, and that’s what she’d like to be. I told her you could do everything we needed, and we didn’t want anybody else.”
“That was very nice of you,” Hannah said, “and one in the eye for Patsy!”
“And that’s what worries me,” Ethel said. “One of the things. You’re so kind, Miss Mole, and so unselfish, but Mr. Pilgrim says he doesn’t see how you could have a cousin so exactly like you. And there’s Ruth to be thought of.”
“Ruth!” Hannah controlled herself and waited.
“He says you and your cousin would have to be twins.”
“So we are—spiritually. Poor Mr. Pilgrim! Poor Miss Withers! How anxious some people are for the welfare of some of the others! And I’m anxious about yours and that’s enough to make you suspicious, I’ll admit, but I really mean it. Listen. If Mr. Pilgrim finds you such a help, he’ll come and look for you when he wants you.”
“But Father doesn’t like him.”
“Perhaps he’ll learn to,” Hannah said hopefully, “but he won’t if you desert the chapel. It really isn’t quite fair to him you know. Now, don’t start crying! What are you crying for?” she asked and she regretted the sharpness of her voice when she heard Ethel’s answer, pathetic in its distrust of herself and in her helpless readiness to confess it.
“Because Mr. Pilgrim may not come.”
“Oh, he’ll come,” Hannah said. “Why, he’ll come if it’s only to have another look at me! Has he told you why he’s so curious about me?”
“No, he says it isn’t fit for me to hear.”
“Then you may be sure he’ll tell you,” Hannah said encouragingly.
XXXVII
She ought to have told Mr. Blenkinsop to give up all thoughts of the little house. It was ill-omened, it was a place in which no happiness would be found. She ought to have told him that, and to have asked him to think again before he acted, to have pointed to herself and told him that the world would be against him, and the world had a nasty way of making its displeasure felt, but she had been thinking of her own misery, she, whom Ethel called unselfish, and she had not warned him of his dangers, the disillusions which are worse when they come to unlawful lovers, the bonds which tighten irksomely when there is only chivalry to prevent their being unloosed. And Mr. Blenkinsop would have replied that this was no concern of hers, just as Hannah would have replied to any friend who had tried to interfere with her. Mr. Blenkinsop would much prefer being left to look after himself; he was as old as she was, as he had taken care to tell her, and it was odd that he should have taken her into his confidence at all, but, for some reason or other, that was what people did. Ruth, Ethel, Robert Corder, had all done it and perhaps Mr. Pilgrim would find he had to ask her how he had best deal with the duty pressing on him in connection with herself! That would not surprise her; nothing would surprise her after the events of this day, and it seemed impossible that it should be only a few hours since she had stood in the lane and seen the chimneys of her house.
She lay in bed, and the peace she had felt in the
