summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
-rw-r--r--.gitattributes3
-rw-r--r--77651-0.txt10093
-rw-r--r--77651-h/77651-h.htm10499
-rw-r--r--77651-h/images/image001.jpgbin0 -> 177777 bytes
-rw-r--r--77651-h/images/image002.jpgbin0 -> 199642 bytes
-rw-r--r--77651-h/images/image003.jpgbin0 -> 20890 bytes
-rw-r--r--77651-h/images/image004.jpgbin0 -> 180195 bytes
-rw-r--r--77651-h/images/image005.jpgbin0 -> 189664 bytes
-rw-r--r--77651-h/images/image006.jpgbin0 -> 201661 bytes
-rw-r--r--77651-h/images/image007.jpgbin0 -> 159197 bytes
-rw-r--r--LICENSE.txt11
-rw-r--r--README.md2
12 files changed, 20608 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/77651-0.txt b/77651-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b69472
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77651-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,10093 @@
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77651 ***
+
+Transcriber's notes: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
+
+New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the
+public domain.
+
+
+
+[Illustration: SEATING HERSELF ON A FALLEN LOG, AND GAZING DOWN UPON
+THE SMILING VALLEYS BELOW, JOAN FELL INTO A REVERIE.]
+
+
+
+ JOAN'S HANDFUL
+
+
+ BY
+
+ AMY LE FEUVRE
+
+ Author of "Herself and Her Boy," "Four Gates," etc.
+
+
+ GOLDEN CROWN SERIES
+
+
+ [Illustration]
+
+
+ PICKERING & INGLIS
+ 14 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON, E.C.4
+ 229 BOTHWELL STREET, GLASGOW, C.2
+
+
+
+ GOLDEN CROWN LIBRARY
+
+
+ 1 HERSELF AND HER BOY
+ BY AMY LE FEUVRE
+
+ 2 MINISTERING CHILDREN
+ BY M. L. CHARLESWORTH
+
+ 3 HER HUSBAND'S HOME
+ BY EVELYN EVERETT GREEN
+
+ 4 PEPPER & CO.
+ BY ESTHER E. ENOCK
+
+ S ELDWYTH'S CHOICE
+ BY LAURA A. BARTER-SNOW
+
+ 6 MARTYRLAND
+ BY ROBERT SIMPSON
+
+ 7 ANDY MAN
+ BY AMY LE FEUVRE
+
+ 8 THE BASKETMAKER'S SHOP
+ BY M. L. CHARLESWORTH
+
+ 9 FOUR GATES
+ BY AMY LE FEUVRE
+
+ 10 URSULA
+ BY LAURA A. BARTER-SNOW
+
+ 11 A MADCAP FAMILY
+ BY AMY LE FEUVRE
+
+ 12 NORAH'S VICTORY
+ BY LAURA A. BARTER-SNOW
+
+ 13 JOAN'S HANDFUL
+ BY AMY LE FEUVRE
+
+
+ Made and Printed in Great Britain
+
+
+
+ CONTENTS.
+
+CHAPTER
+
+ 1. THE PAINTER
+
+ 2. THE TRAVELLERS
+
+ 3. A BUSY DAY
+
+ 4. RECTORY LIFE
+
+ 5. RENUNCIATION
+
+ 6. A MOTHER'S CONFIDENCES
+
+ 7. THE MAJOR'S HOSPITALITY
+
+ 8. AN ENCOUNTER WITH WILMOT
+
+ 9. JOAN'S GODMOTHER
+
+ 10. OFF TO THE RIVIERA
+
+ 11. LITERARY ATTEMPTS
+
+ 12. TROUBLE AT ROLLESTON COURT
+
+ 13. A FATEFUL TELEGRAM
+
+ 14. STRUGGLING IN THE NET
+
+ 15. DERRICK TO THE RESCUE
+
+ 16. JOAN'S ILLNESS
+
+ 17. A VISIT TO IRELAND
+
+ 18. THE CHURCH IN THE HILLS
+
+ 19. CECIL'S ENGAGEMENT
+
+ 20. BANTY'S ACCIDENT
+
+ 21. A CHANCE FOR CECIL
+
+ 22. HEART TO HEART
+
+ 23. THE LUCK OF ROLLESTON COURT
+
+
+
+ ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+ SEATING HERSELF ON A FALLEN LOG, AND GAZING
+ DOWN UPON THE SMILING VALLEYS BELOW, JOAN FELL
+ INTO A REVERIE _Frontispiece_
+
+ JOAN WENT DOWN ON HER KNEES BEFORE HER MOTHER
+ IMPULSIVELY, AND TOOK HER HANDS IN HERS
+
+ JOAN AND BANTY CHATTED TOGETHER IN LIGHT-HEARTED
+ FASHION WHEN THEY WERE SITTING DOWN
+ WATCHING FOR THE KETTLE TO BOIL
+
+ SHE WAS DEEP IN THOUGHT AND PRAYER WHEN A
+ WELL-KNOWN VOICE MADE JOAN START
+
+ JOAN HEARD A CHILD'S SHRILL CRY FOR HELP, AND
+ LOOKING OUT UPON A ROCK CLOSE TO THE SEA, SHE
+ SAW A SMALL FIGURE WAVING A HANDKERCHIEF
+
+
+
+ "BETTER IS AN HANDFUL WITH QUIETNESS,
+ THAN BOTH THE HANDS FULL
+ WITH TRAVAIL AND VEXATION OF SPIRIT"
+ (ECCLES. iv. 6).
+
+
+
+ JOAN'S HANDFUL
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE PAINTER
+
+AN October afternoon, bright and sunny; the touch of frost in the
+previous night had only accentuated the vividness of colour in the
+beech trees that surrounded Old Bellerton Rectory. In the cobbled
+stone yard at the back was Joan Adair, busy with paint and paintbrush.
+She had tucked her skirt up, and was enveloped in a huge white apron.
+Her deep blue eyes were so intent upon her handiwork that she did
+not notice the approach of a stalwart young man in a rough shooting
+costume, who stood leaning against the stable door, and surveyed her
+with amused appreciation.
+
+"Ahem!"
+
+Joan started. She turned a fresh fair face towards the onlooker. It was
+a typical English face, not particularly beautiful, but essentially
+bonny; and when she smiled, a dimple came and went in a most
+distracting fashion. Her bright brown hair gleamed with gold, though at
+present an old straw hat, with a crow's feather sticking up jauntily on
+one side, concealed most of her glory.
+
+"Derrick! How like you! Have you dropped from the sky?"
+
+"Do I look like a cherub? No; I'm out for slaughter. See my gun?
+Have had an invite to the Hall for a week to help old Jossy with his
+pheasants. What on earth are you doing?"
+
+Joan waved her brush proudly. It was no sketch of autumn beauty which
+occupied her clever fingers, but a very shabby little jingle which was
+being liberally plastered with black and red paint.
+
+"Our chariot," she said laughing. "Oh, Derrick, I can't tell you how I
+am revelling in the country! Every day here is too exquisite for words."
+
+"How is Dominie?"
+
+"He is as pleased as I am. We're as happy as the day is long; but
+perhaps that does not say much, as the days are getting short now!"
+
+"I never knew the day that did not see you happy," said the young man.
+"Is tea coming on? I've got a thirst which needs a drop of something,
+and I know the Dominie won't give me a whisky and soda."
+
+"Go in and talk to him. I must finish my job. Shan't we look smart?"
+
+"You'll be taken for the Royal Mail. How fond you are of red! You
+always were. Do you remember when your red frock was baptised with ink?
+How you howled! Here, let me take a hand."
+
+He seized her brush. Joan stood and watched him.
+
+"Any crest to go on?"
+
+"You can paint Dad's name."
+
+Derrick did so; but when Joan looked over his shoulder she found
+"Joan's a dear!" added in large letters.
+
+"Derrick, haven't you grown up yet?" Joan said severely.
+
+"I'm trying to," he said meekly.
+
+Then he threw down his brush, and she led the way into the house.
+
+It was one of those very old-fashioned English rectories which are
+delightful to look at and to live in, if it were not for the thought
+of repairs. A low, square, oak-panelled hall, dark, and with rather
+a musty atmosphere; low, long sitting-rooms opening out of it, with
+oak beams across the ceilings, and deep casement windows overlooking
+a rather untidy and leaf-bestrewed garden. Pictures and books seemed
+to cover all the walls, a few shelves of fragile old china lightened
+the rather gloomy little drawing-room; but Derrick was led into the
+rector's study, where Mr. Adair was immersed amongst his books. Here
+there was a cheerful fire burning, and a square tea-table set by its
+side. A copper kettle was singing away on the hob.
+
+"Dad, dear, here is one of your former pupils—the black sheep amongst
+them."
+
+Mr. Adair turned round and greeted the young man heartily.
+
+Joan's father was getting on in years, but he enjoyed excellent health.
+His face was ruddy and cheerful and clean shaven; his white hair and
+the stoop in his shoulders were the only signs of age.
+
+"I must wash my hands," said Joan. "We will have tea in a few minutes."
+
+She left the room humming a little song under her breath. A green
+baize door opened at one end of the hall, and an elderly woman's face
+appeared with rather an anxious look upon it.
+
+"Is it visitors, Miss Joan?"
+
+Joan laughed. Such a clear, happy laugh! Everyone smiled on hearing it,
+and the old servant was no exception.
+
+"Mr. Derrick, Sophia! We will not make company of him."
+
+"I'll send in some buttered toast. I remember his liking for it."
+
+"Be careful with the butter," cautioned Joan, the dimple in her cheek
+appearing as she ran lightly up the wide, shallow stairs. She made her
+way along a passage till she opened the door of her room.
+
+It was very small, but it bore the characteristics of the
+owner—whitewashed walls, white dimity bed-hangings, and white dimity
+curtains in the wide casement window. The carpet was thin and
+threadbare, but there was a chintz-covered easy chair by the window,
+and a little table with books and writing materials upon it. A bowl
+of late roses was on the window ledge over the small dressing-table,
+and suspended from a mirror hanging on the wall was a bunch of fresh
+lavender, and a bookcase on the opposite side was crowded with
+well-worn, shabby books.
+
+It did not take Joan long to tidy herself, but just for one moment she
+leant her elbows on her windowsill and gazed with far-seeing eyes over
+the scene before her. An old lawn sloped down to a row of beech trees;
+beyond, the fields rose up again till they met a belt of pines on the
+horizon. Behind these pines the sun was already slowly sinking, sending
+rosy rays across the dusky sky. Rooks were cawing in a rookery close
+by, there was a smell of wood fires, and a slight whiff of hot bread
+which delighted her senses.
+
+"What a haven it is!"
+
+Joan breathed the words; then a little shadow stole into her blue eyes.
+
+"Oh, I hope they will be pleased—they must be!" A quick sigh escaped
+her, then she made her way downstairs and re-entered the study like a
+fresh breeze.
+
+Derrick glanced at her as she sat down and began making the tea. He was
+three years her senior, and they had played together and learnt in this
+old rectory as a boy and girl when his grandfather had been the rector
+here, and Mr. Adair had been his curate and lived with his young family
+in a whitewashed cottage at the entrance to the village.
+
+Mr. Adair had gone to a busy town later on, and had taken pupils.
+Derrick Colleton had gone to him there and renewed his acquaintance
+with his old playmate. Then he had gone to Oxford, and thence had
+drifted first into law, and then, not finding that satisfy either his
+purse or his intellect, had taken a post as private secretary to a
+member of the Cabinet. He had never lost his boyish spirits, and as his
+humorous, twinkling eyes met Joan's, she laughed.
+
+"I'd like to know your thoughts," she said.
+
+"I didn't think I'd tumble into such domesticity," he said. "Joan
+of the inkpot and of midnight studies I remember—never Joan of the
+tea-table!"
+
+"But Dad must have his tea," said Joan. "He and I have settled down
+here together with infinite peace. I left Girton two years ago."
+
+"And where is Mrs. Adair? Still abroad with Cecil?"
+
+"They are coming home at the end of this week," Mr. Adair said quickly.
+There was a light in his eye as he spoke.
+
+Derrick looked round the room, then out into the dusky garden.
+
+"It's so queer your coming back here after all these years. I see my
+marks still upon that window shutter. I was shut and locked in here one
+day by my grandfather. He rued his deed when he opened the door. My
+knife had been busy on every bit of wood in the room!"
+
+"You were an awful little brat!" said Joan, her dimple appearing.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Adair gravely. "It is queer, I suppose, but very
+mercifully ordained by God, I consider. Sir Joseph, by giving me the
+living, has enabled us to be one united family again. I am sure this
+bracing country air will be quite as good for Cecil as that of the
+Swiss places in which she has been living, and the house will be far
+more comfortable for my dear wife."
+
+There was a moment's silence. Derrick was casting his mind back to the
+narrow terraced house in a dingy street in which the Adairs had lived
+for the past ten years. He saw again Mrs. Adair moving about it in her
+restless, preoccupied fashion, her graceful figure and dainty dress—a
+strangely incongruous sight in that shabby house. He wondered if this
+country rectory would be more to her liking.
+
+Then he turned to Joan.
+
+"How's the learning? I saw you had taken any amount of degrees and
+honours. What good is it going to do you?"
+
+Joan's eyes flashed.
+
+"It has done me good. It has quickened and fed the mental part of me.
+It has developed—"
+
+"Oh, Pax! Don't flood me with your rhetoric. If you want to be pleasant
+to your neighbours, let the past be buried deep. Your Girton knowledge
+won't be wanted here."
+
+"I'm not going to argue with you," said Joan suddenly, smiling. "You're
+only a man. All men are dreadfully afraid of cultured women."
+
+"I shall never be afraid of you, Joan—never!"
+
+Sophia at this instant opened the door. She bore a plate of hot
+buttered toast, and when Derrick saw her, he seized it from her and
+wrung her by the hand.
+
+"Good old Sophia, you're going strong yet! And your toast is as balmy
+as ever!"
+
+"Mr. Derrick, I hope you're well."
+
+Sophia dropped an old-fashioned curtsy. She was evidently a privileged
+servant, for she went on:
+
+"I knew your tea would be nothing without a bit of toast; and what the
+boy is, that will be the man. I fancy you, sir, going through life and
+looking for buttered toast and takin' it as your right—the right to
+enjoy what other folks have worked to give you, which is, so to say, a
+parable. Buttered toast comes to some quite easy, but 'tis not always
+wise."
+
+"Oh, Sophia, stop," said Joan, laughing. "Don't give us a treatise
+on buttered toast. If you spoil Derrick, don't blame him for being
+spoiled."
+
+Sophia edged towards the door. Looking over her shoulder, she said:
+
+"Mr. Derrick be one of fortune's favourites. He has never met
+discipline yet."
+
+"There, Derrick! Sophia knows all about you."
+
+Derrick nodded.
+
+"Have you and Banty met yet?" he asked, munching his toast with much
+appreciation.
+
+"Yes," said Joan. "I have spoken to her after church. She is usually
+out when I call. I know Lady Gascoigne best. She is always at home.
+Banty and I are strangers; she has nothing left of the small girl I
+used to know. She was a fat baby then."
+
+"Only a couple of years younger than yourself," said Derrick with a
+laugh. "Banty is very good sport. She's as good a shot as her father,
+which is saying a good deal. What do you think of the cousin living
+with them? He's a queer fish if ever there was one!"
+
+"I haven't met him. He has been up in town. Does he live here? Lady
+Gascoigne talks of him as if he is a kind of secretary or upper
+servant. He's a Gascoigne, isn't he?"
+
+"He's the son of a younger brother—Wilmot, his name is. He has
+travelled a good bit, I believe, is mad over books, and old Jossy
+is keeping him busy cataloguing his library and sorting out family
+chronicles. It's the fashion nowadays to publish family reminiscences,
+and I believe this fellow is trying to do it. He's too literary for me.
+Those book fellows are always such self-assertive brutes; I longed to
+pull his nose!"
+
+"By which I know he snubbed you," said Joan with her dimpling smile.
+
+Mr. Adair had sat listening in silence; now he engaged Derrick's
+attention by asking him questions about the glebe fields and various
+other matters upon which he hoped he might be able to throw some light.
+
+Joan slipped away to finish her cart before darkness stopped her.
+Derrick came out to her on his way back to the Hall.
+
+"So you're settling down into a country parson's daughter," he said. "I
+heard you played the organ better than old Tabbs did. Had he chucked it
+before you came?"
+
+"Was he the old schoolmaster? Yes; we have a modern schoolmistress now
+who is practising hard to become organist. She has no idea of time,
+unfortunately, which is funny, because of course she teaches part
+singing in school. No, Derrick; I love it here, but I am not settling
+down. Shall I tell you a secret?" She stood up, and a grave, earnest
+look came into her face. "Yesterday I had the offer of a post in a
+first-class high school which will bring me in from £150 to £200 a
+year."
+
+"Good for you! But, oh, my dear Joan, don't you take to
+schoolmistressing! You don't know how much better I like you in your
+present setting!"
+
+"Being a man, that goes without saying," said Joan cheerfully. "But
+I am panting for higher, wider interests. I don't want to let my
+knowledge rust, and I love—I adore—imparting knowledge; they say I have
+the knack of it. Some, you know, have the brains, but not the faculty
+for teaching."
+
+"How can your father spare you?"
+
+"That is the rub! Of course he could not, unless Mother and Cecil are
+here; but it would do Cecil such a lot of good to take my place and run
+the parish. She wants an interest in life. She is so much stronger than
+she thinks she is, and I dread her getting self-centred. Dad and I are
+hopeful that they will settle down. We're going to do our very best to
+make them like it. Oh, what am I saying? But you know us, Derrick; it's
+no good hiding it from you."
+
+"Not a little bit!" said Derrick hastily. "But mark my words, your
+mother is not old enough to settle down in this quiet spot. In your
+heart you want to be up and away, and so will she. Your mother won't
+fit into this part. I'll bet you ten quid she won't!"
+
+Joan put out her hand as if to ward off a blow.
+
+"Don't say it. Wait and see. Dad has been a new man since he came
+here—so much brighter and more hopeful. He said to me last night:
+'Please God your mother and I will spend our old age together here. It
+is all I ask.'"
+
+Joan's voice shook, then she laughed.
+
+"Go away, Derrick; you're making me too communicative, only I know
+you're as safe as a post! Here, give me a hand and push this into the
+coachhouse. Have you seen our old pony? He is over twenty, I am told,
+but he goes like steam. We bought the cart and harness from Dray Farm,
+and they threw the pony in for an extra three pounds. Wanted a good
+home for him, they said. I like those Drays."
+
+Derrick took hold of the cart and pushed her aside. Then for an
+instant, he let his hand rest on her shoulder.
+
+"Joan, for auld lang syne, don't you leave poor Dominie in his old age!
+He's worth more than brats of girls who don't know one teacher from
+another."
+
+He gave her no time for reply, shouldered his gun, and vaulted clean
+over the white gate that led out into the road. Then, waving his hat,
+he cried:
+
+"If Jossy doesn't send you some of the pheasants that I help him to
+bring down, I'll give the order to his keeper myself. Au revoir!"
+
+Joan stood for a moment leaning her arms on the gate and watching his
+retreating figure in the dusk, then she gave a quick sigh and went
+indoors.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE TRAVELLERS
+
+JOAN was having a busy day. Her mother and sister were expected that
+afternoon. She had been up since daybreak; both she and her father were
+nervously anxious that the old rectory should make a good impression
+upon the travellers. With the assistance of the odd man, Joan had swept
+and rolled the lawn and paths, tied up straggling chrysanthemums,
+and brought a fair amount of order and tidiness into the sweet
+old-fashioned garden.
+
+Sophia, after cleaning and scouring everything in the kitchen that she
+could lay her hands upon, was now immersed in cooking. The house fairly
+revelled in smells of hot cakes, hot tarts, hot bread, and a variety of
+other indications that the oven was doing its work in a satisfactory
+manner. Derrick had been as good as his word. A brace of pheasants
+had arrived at two o'clock, and Sophia seized them with a cook's
+delight. When Joan remonstrated, telling her they were too fresh, she
+triumphantly showed her the label with the date attached.
+
+"Three days old, Miss Joan, and just what is wanted for the mistress.
+The joint of beef will come in hot to-morrow and will eat cold on
+Sunday."
+
+So Joan let her have her way. She herself was in every room, assisted
+by the young housemaid; there were beds to make, linen and plate to
+be brought out of store cupboards; fresh cushions, and curtains, and
+tablecloths to take the place of shabby ones, flowers to be arranged,
+brass to be brightened, furniture to be polished. By half-past three
+in the afternoon Joan's feet were aching, but her heart dancing. As
+she piled the wood logs on the drawing-room fire, and looked round the
+dainty little home-like room, she said to herself, "Mother will fall in
+love with it. We have never lived in such a sweet house before!"
+
+She had worked hard at the drawing-room. She had bought some faded
+chintz curtains and hangings cheap at a country sale a few weeks
+before, and her clever fingers had cut out and made covers for the
+shabby, old, town furniture they had brought with them.
+
+Bowls of red and gold chrysanthemums brightened the dark corners; some
+framed water-colours, the handiwork of Mrs. Adair when a girl, covered
+the walls, which had been freshly hung with a delicate cream paper; the
+high, narrow, white marble mantelpiece held a few choice bits of china,
+and all the newest and brightest books filled the low bookcases in
+the recesses on either side of the fireplace. Joan's work-basket, the
+local paper, and some loose magazines on a small table gave a sense of
+homeliness to the room.
+
+Joan pulled up two easy chairs to the fire; she rearranged the cushions
+on the chintz couch; then she glanced out of the window, and saw her
+father pacing up and down the gravel path. He was waiting for the
+country fly which was to take him to the station to meet his wife. He
+looked very bent and old, and leaned more on his stick than he had ever
+done before; and yet she knew, although she could not see his face,
+that his eyes were shining with hope and expectancy, that the wrinkles
+were smoothed out upon his brow, that his soul was having one of the
+happiest times in his life. They had had several home-comings of this
+kind before, but never one under such favourable circumstances as this.
+As Joan watched him, sudden tears filled her eyes.
+
+"Why, oh why are there so many unfulfilled desires!" she exclaimed
+passionately. "Why are we such an ill-assorted family? Oh, God!"—And
+her whole soul rose up in its breathless longing—"Oh, God, don't let
+him be disappointed this time!"
+
+Mr. Adair, walking up and down with a smile upon his lips, was living
+in the past. Step by step he was watching himself as a young man from
+the time he went to his first curacy. How well he remembered the
+beautiful old abbey church in which he was so fortunate as to find
+himself! Would he ever forget the first time he was introduced by his
+rector, at a little evening gathering, to old General Lovell and his
+three beautiful and clever young daughters? He remembered now the
+little thrill that ran through him when, after some conversation in
+which the General did most of the talking and he the listening, he was
+clapped heartily on the shoulder by the old soldier, with the words:
+
+"Quite glad to speak with a black coat or two; am sick of the red ones.
+Come and see me, young fellow—come and dine with us to-morrow night!"
+
+How shyly and delightedly he had gone! How his simple soul was dazed at
+first by the bright brilliance of the Misses Lovell, and then attracted
+and then bewitched by the fascination of the one who always seemed to
+understand him and to make allowances for his awkwardness! Cecilia
+Lovell had been very good to him in those days.
+
+At first he had felt he was an outsider, a stranger in their set. The
+Lovells had always been a race of soldiers, and very distinguished
+ones. His forbears for centuries had been quiet churchmen, not very
+clever, not very gifted, but men of simple gentle lives and unselfish
+aims—perhaps of narrow prejudices and small, one-sided views. He could
+not look at life as the Lovells did; they could not look at life as he
+did. But Cecilia always seemed to fill the breach; and then, on one
+unforgettable day, he had breathed in her ear the old, old question,
+and, with shy averted face, she had given him his answer and the desire
+of his heart.
+
+The old General had been delighted. His motherless daughters were both
+a care and anxiety to him. Gout was troubling him. He was impatient
+to go abroad and try a cure, so he pushed on the marriage, and in
+three months' time, Cecilia Lovell became Mrs. Adair. Her father was
+generous, and gave her a liberal allowance.
+
+In spite of a curate's pay, the young couple were very fairly
+comfortable, until children began to arrive. Then John Adair gave up
+his curacy for a better stipend, and settled in the white cottage in
+Old Bellerton village. Two boys and two girls played with the orphan
+grandson of the rector, and for a time life dealt gently with the
+curate and his family. But Cecilia did not make a good curate's wife;
+she had an impatient intolerance of a small village life, and never
+rested till she got her husband to one of the large Midland towns.
+
+The rector looked back to his life there with regret that he had
+not been able to make his wife happy and content in the work which
+he loved. He was a simple man, and not a clever one; he read only
+theology; his wife's broader culture puzzled and distressed him. She
+made no secret of her dislike to the parishioners, and when her elder
+boy developed delicacy in one of his lungs, she took him for months at
+a time to her old home in the south.
+
+Gradually she stayed less and less with her husband. An elderly
+governess taught the girls and looked after the house when she was
+away. Then the boys were placed at school. Their mother's idea was for
+them to enter the Army; her husband objected because of expense, and
+because he was a man of peace and had a horror of war.
+
+Eventually the elder passed into Sandhurst, went out to India, and died
+of enteric six months afterwards. The younger one was now his mother's
+hope. But he developed the same delicacy of lung when nineteen, and
+though his mother, helped by her father, was able to take him out to
+Davos, he died of a rapid decline.
+
+Mrs. Adair returned to her husband and girls like a woman without heart
+and hope. Joan was always strong, but Cecil was as delicate-looking as
+the boys had been, and, nervously fearing she would go the same way,
+Mrs. Adair took her continually to Switzerland and to the Riviera by
+turns. The taste for continental life crept into her veins; she rarely
+was at home for more than three months in the year, and though doctors
+assured her that Cecil's lungs were absolutely sound, she refused to
+believe them.
+
+The death of General Lovell made it easier for her to gratify her love
+for sunny climes and dry, bracing air. But she had never been able to
+economise, and John Adair had the greatest difficulty in sending her
+as much money as she wanted. To ease the strain, he took pupils and
+coached them for college.
+
+When Joan's education was nearly finished, her godmother, Lady Alicia
+Fairchild, a lifelong friend of her mother's, determined to give her
+a chance of making an independent career. She was brilliantly clever,
+and her governess could teach her nothing more. So Lady Alicia sent
+her to Girton, and she had worked hard and successfully there. Then,
+at twenty-two, she came back to her father, and took the household
+reins into her hands. She did not anticipate staying at home, but
+circumstances kept her there. The old governess had left, and the house
+was sadly needing a mistress.
+
+Mr. Adair got the offer of his present living, and then Joan threw
+her heart and soul into the move. Mr. Adair had always been painfully
+conscious that his wife could not adapt herself to the shabby terraced
+house and the economical life of a poor parson. Now his heart swelled
+with thankfulness. This living was worth £500 a year, and the rectory
+was a roomy, comfortable house.
+
+As he paced up and down the gravel path, he felt that good times were
+coming, that he and his wife would settle down in this quiet spot, and
+draw closer together than ever they had done before. His loyalty and
+admiration for his wife had never swerved. He knew she was impatient
+and irritable at times; he could never forget one revelation which she
+made to him in a moment of furious passion—and that was that she had
+married him partly to please her father, partly out of pique, as the
+man she really loved had jilted her; but in spite of this, he trusted
+that time and his undying love would win her and compel her to come
+closer to him.
+
+Joan's clear, keen insight showed her both her father's and mother's
+point of view. Mrs. Adair was distinctly her husband's superior in
+intellect; she tried, when young, to introduce him to a wider and a
+higher level of thought, but a certain denseness, some obstinacy, and
+the firm conviction that a man: and moreover a clergyman, could not
+and ought not to let his wife dictate or attempt to teach him, made
+all such attempts a dead failure. She now treated her husband with
+good-natured indifference. Sometimes Joan felt angry at her mother's
+attitude; sometimes she felt sorry for her. Now, her sympathies were
+mostly with her father.
+
+When the fly arrived, she ran out, buttoned up his greatcoat for him,
+and besought him not to wait about on the cold, draughty platform of
+the little station.
+
+"Take care of yourself, Dad. I know you will be hours too early for the
+train."
+
+Mr. Adair had a horror of being late for anything, and his daughter
+often told him laughingly that his waiting hours consumed a good many
+days in the course of a twelvemonth.
+
+When the fly was off, Joan ran back into the house. Sophia came out of
+the kitchen.
+
+"Has the master gone? He be in a dreadful rumpus to-day, Miss Joan."
+
+Sophia had been with them all since they were children; her tongue was
+never checked, for her heart was loyal and true.
+
+"I think you've been in the greatest fuss, Sophia. I've heard you
+giving it unsparingly to poor Jenny."
+
+"She's just one of these shiftless girls, Miss Joan. It's terrible to
+think of the children unborn, when their parents are such worthless
+stuff."
+
+Joan's laugh rang out merrily.
+
+"You dear old soul! Go back to your kitchen. Thank goodness, I don't
+worry over non-existent beings. And don't begin to talk to Jenny of her
+children when she's still unmarried."
+
+"What do you take me for!" said Sophia, in a shocked tone. Then she
+said: "Put on your pretty silk dress to-night, Miss Joan. Show the
+mistress your best."
+
+Joan shook her head. "Not to-night. They'll be tired with travelling.
+We shall all have our dinner and go to bed."
+
+Sophia disappeared. Joan went into the fire-lit drawing-room, and
+surveyed herself for a moment in a long mirror there. She was clad in
+a pale grey serge, rather Quakerish in style, with fine lace collar
+and cuffs. It served to show off her golden-brown head and bright
+colouring, but she shook her head at herself. "I always feel like a
+milkmaid beside Cecil." Then she took some pink roses out of a bowl and
+stuck them in her belt.
+
+It was four miles to the station. The time of waiting seemed long. Joan
+could neither read nor work; but at length the carriage wheels were
+heard, and the next moment, Joan and the servants were out in the old
+porch welcoming the tired travellers.
+
+Joan led her mother straight into the drawing-room, and undid her fur
+cloak before the fire.
+
+Mrs. Adair looked about her, then held out her delicate, white hands
+towards the fire and shivered.
+
+She was slim and very tall, a woman who was growing old gracefully, and
+more beautiful now than either of her daughters. Her snow-white hair,
+clustering round her brow, seemed to soften the rather hard-cut contour
+of her face. Her blue eyes were almost as deep and bright as Joan's,
+though her dark brows and lashes made them more severe. When she smiled
+at people, she could make them do anything, but she was hardly smiling
+now.
+
+"We have had a cold journey. Cecil is very tired. We slept the night in
+town. Of course, we could not come right through. London welcomed us,
+as usual, with a thick fog. And you seem bitterly cold down here."
+
+"It's very healthy; we are on high ground."
+
+"Oh, I know, my dear Joan, I know. I have not forgotten the terribly
+long winters, when fires were a scarcity and it was doubtful whether
+one was justified in buying warm gloves for all the tiny chilblained
+hands. Your father speaks as if it is a new neighbourhood to which we
+are coming. He forgets that I know every inch of every road only too
+well."
+
+"I suppose you remember this room?"
+
+Joan determined to be cheerful.
+
+Mrs. Adair looked round it in a critical sort of way.
+
+"Yes. I give you credit for improving its looks. The poor curate's wife
+was invited sometimes up to dinner, and sorely was she bored as she sat
+in this room receiving good advice from the rector's wife!"
+
+Then she smiled sadly.
+
+"Don't torture me with recollections, Joan dear. When I was last here,
+I had my boys. It cannot be otherwise than sad, returning to this part."
+
+Joan's hopes sank. She felt she had no heart to show her mother over
+the house. Was it a mistake coming back to the place which held such
+unpleasant memories for her?
+
+And then through the door came Cecil, like a flash of light.
+
+"Is Mother here? Oh, what a dear, wee, cosy room! Sophia has given me
+two smacking kisses, Mother, and Jenny—is that her name?—looked as if
+she were going to follow suit. I tried to freeze her, but I haven't the
+inches. Joan, you look blooming! My feet are like ice. How nice it is
+to be home."
+
+Cecil had drawn a low chair up to the fire as she talked, and was now
+untying her shoes. Slipping them off, she held out silk-clad feet to
+the fire.
+
+Joan shook her head at her. "Of course you're cold in such flimsy
+stockings—open-work, too! I'll lend you a pair of my sensible ones if
+you come upstairs."
+
+"Oh, I can't stand thick stockings."
+
+Cecil spoke in the accents of a spoiled child. "Tell me when the
+luggage is up," she said. "I'll toast myself here meanwhile."
+
+Joan slipped away. Her father and Benson, the odd man, were struggling
+in the hall with trunks, hat-boxes, portmanteaus, and every kind of
+bundle and bag. Joan soon sorted out the light luggage, and made Jenny
+help her in taking it up to the rooms. The trunks were gradually
+brought up by the flyman and Benson. When the hall was clear, Mr. Adair
+went into the drawing-room.
+
+"Welcome home, my dear!" he said, stepping forward and kissing his
+wife. Then, patting her shoulder, he added, with the tactlessness of a
+man, "And I'm hoping, please God, that you won't be wanting to run away
+from your poor old husband, now that you have such a pretty home as
+this."
+
+"My dear John," said Mrs. Adair, moving very slightly away from him,
+"do you forget that our sojourn abroad has been by doctor's orders?"
+
+"Yes, yes, my dear—of course I know. But little Cecil is getting
+stronger, and our bracing heath and pines will be the very thing for
+her."
+
+Cecil looked up at him from her seat by the fire and laughed. "I
+believe, like Diogenes, you would be happy in a tub, Dad! I am sure
+your letters led me to expect a mansion, a country seat! You see, I
+never remembered the place; I was too small when we left. Mother tried
+to prepare me. It's a duck of a place, and, for winter, very cosy, but
+in summer, I should feel I couldn't breathe. The ceilings seem down on
+one's head."
+
+Mrs. Adair glanced quickly and anxiously at her daughter as she spoke.
+
+"We must have the windows open," she said. "Do you feel this room
+airless, Cecil? It is the contrast after our big rooms in the hotels."
+
+"Oh, it's all right, Mother. Don't you worry. I'm too cold at present
+to want anything but a hot fire. Dad, dear, would you mind bringing me
+my handbag in the hall? I left my handkerchief in it. I'm so tired or I
+would fetch it myself."
+
+Mr. Adair left the room at once, and went upstairs to find the bag.
+
+Joan would not let him take it down again. "I'll do it, Dad, dear.
+Cecil is a lazy monkey not to fetch it herself. You must not spoil her.
+Dinner will be ready in half an hour. You will find hot water in your
+room."
+
+"My dear Joan," said Mr. Adair, standing still in the passage, and
+speaking in a dispirited tone, "they find the rooms too small and
+airless!"
+
+"Nonsense!" said Joan, laughing.
+
+She ran downstairs, afraid to trust herself to say anything further.
+She chatted gaily to her mother till she had seen her comfortably
+established in her room upstairs. Then she went down to put final
+touches on the dinner-table, and then she slipped into her black
+evening dress.
+
+They all met in the quaint oak-raftered dining-room, a little later, in
+better spirits.
+
+Sophia's soup, her pheasants, and her sweet omelette were beyond
+reproach.
+
+When dessert was on the table, Joan pointed to the apples and pears in
+triumph.
+
+"Out of our own orchard! We are self-supplying. All our vegetables,
+chickens, eggs—and a fat pig to be made into bacon after Christmas—are
+our very own. Isn't it delicious, Cecil?"
+
+"It's rather a change after that smoky, grimy Nuthampstead," said
+Cecil. She leant back in her chair looking exceedingly pretty. She was
+very slight and small, with an ivory pallor, dark eyes and hair, and
+delicate features. To-night a faint rose blush was on her cheeks.
+
+"A regular little aristocrat from the top of her head to the soles of
+her feet," Sophia said of her; and it was true.
+
+Cecil was a reproduction of Mrs. Adair's own mother, who had been a
+very noted beauty at Court. Her clothes were never anything but dainty
+in the extreme, though her mother and she had the good taste to dress
+very quietly. To-night she had a simple blue crepon gown, with old
+lace softening the bodice. Her dark hair was bound round with a silver
+braid, but her neck and arms were white as the driven snow, and her
+face was almost ethereal in its delicate beauty.
+
+Joan was rather silent. She let her mother do most of the talking. Mrs.
+Adair had many amusing anecdotes to tell and talked of many people and
+things.
+
+"It was so strange," she said. "We met General Long in town, and he
+brought his son to see us. He is now a captain in the 12th Hussars, and
+just home from India. They dined with us. It was interesting hearing
+about India again. But Harry Long gave an alarming account of the
+sedition about the Bengal district. He says it is simply seething with
+an undercurrent of hatred to British rule. People make light of it and
+refuse to believe it—just as in the days before the Indian Mutiny. I
+suppose we shall go on making light of it until a crisis comes, and
+then there will be a lot of unnecessary suffering and bloodshed."
+
+"Oh, I hope not," said Mr. Adair, looking across at his wife with
+startled eyes. "I hope we shall not have another mutiny or war in
+India. Mrs. White's son has just gone out to India. It would break the
+poor old body's heart if anything happened to her boy."
+
+A little smile flitted across Mrs. Adair's face. "We will hope young
+White will have his life preserved, my dear John. But there are a few
+more English to be considered besides him in our Indian Empire?"
+
+"Yes, yes—of course. War is horrible. May God preserve us from it; and
+Indian wars always seem worse than those nearer home. How thankful we
+must be that we have no sons out there!"
+
+Joan saw her mother wince and quiver as if someone had struck her
+across the face. She stopped talking, and left the table almost
+directly.
+
+Mr. Adair was perfectly oblivious that, as usual, he had blundered. He
+sat on in the dining-room and smoked his pipe over the fire, smiling
+happily to himself.
+
+"It's nice to have them home again. We shall be together now!"
+
+Mrs. Adair and Cecil retired very early to rest, and Joan was nothing
+loath to follow their example. She had had a tiring day, and foresaw a
+good many tiring ones still to come.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+A BUSY DAY
+
+THE next day was Saturday, and if Joan had not had a fund of cheeriness
+and good temper in herself and an unflinching amount of pluck and
+patience, she would never have been able to get through it as happily
+and easily as she did.
+
+Mrs. Adair breakfasted in bed. Cecil arrived downstairs at ten o'clock
+and expected Joan to sit and talk to her whilst she dawdled over her
+cup of tea and eggs and bacon.
+
+"What can you have to do? Let Jenny alone; you are always fussing after
+her."
+
+"My dear Cecil, I am due at the schoolhouse to receive club money at
+ten. I must fly. I expect you will be busy unpacking this morning, so
+you won't miss me. I wonder if you would mind putting your breakfast
+things together on a tray. This is a busy morning with us. I shall be
+back in an hour's time. Do you think you could darn a hole in Dad's
+surplice? The laundress has torn it in the wash."
+
+Cecil laughed a little.
+
+"You are determined to set me to work; but I think after our hard
+travelling you might allow me a day's grace. I haven't even been shown
+over the house yet."
+
+Joan was gone. Cecil saw her flying down the garden path, but she was
+stopped at the gate by a small boy. Cecil wondered at the serene,
+cheerful way in which Joan seemed to be talking to him. Then she went
+on, but a little slower, for the small boy was trying to keep pace with
+her. Cecil smiled to herself, then yawned.
+
+"I can't take the yoke upon me yet. I do hate the ways of a parson's
+house! But I'll go and unpack, and I suppose I might put up my
+breakfast things, though why that small Jenny can't come in and do it,
+is past my comprehension."
+
+She gathered the crockery together, placed it on a tray, and actually
+carried it out to the kitchen.
+
+Sophia, as usual, was immersed in cooking, but her kitchen was
+beautifully clean, and as tidy and bright as a new pin.
+
+"Here I am, you see, Sophia—back into the midst of the daily drudgery!"
+
+"And why should you not be?" demanded Sophia, rolling up the dough at
+which she was Working with quick, deft hands, and looking up at Cecil
+with her small, bright eyes. "Why should you not be here to bring a bit
+of ease into the house by a pair of willing hands? 'Tis not right, Miss
+Cecil, to make life a burden to Miss Joan."
+
+"Joan! She never feels anything a burden."
+
+"That's your mistake. What brings burdens into the world? 'Tis some
+folks shifting their share of work to others' shoulders. If all did
+their share, none would be overburdened."
+
+Cecil put her tray down and swung herself up lightly on the old
+dresser, where she sat swinging her feet, ready to argue. She loved a
+good argument with Sophia upon any subject.
+
+"But that is folly, Sophia; that is the mistake the Socialists make.
+They want everyone to be equal. How can they be when some are weak and
+some are strong? You want a dull, monotonous creation, which God did
+not want, or He would have made it. You want everyone made after the
+same pattern, with the same characters and dispositions, all taking the
+same share of life's work. Imagine it! When a man who knows he can do
+it, and has the ambition to bear big burdens comes along, he must never
+want to do anything or bear anything more than his neighbour! Don't you
+see what folly it would be?"
+
+"You may be clever with your tongue, Miss Cecil, but you're too clever
+to let all your powers rust, and sit still with folded hands whilst
+others wait on you. You may not be as strong as Miss Joan, but you be
+quite strong enough to take those cups and plates into the back kitchen
+and wash them. It's what Miss Joan would do, were she in your place."
+
+"But she isn't, and she never will be. And I live by principles of my
+own, Sophia, and I never fold my hands, never! I don't know how to do
+it. It's one of my principles never to interfere with anybody else's
+business. I should say the washing up of these plates is Jenny's
+business, is it not? Or is it yours? It certainly is not mine."
+
+She slipped down from the dresser and went out of the kitchen humming
+gaily to herself.
+
+Sophia shook her head after her retreating figure.
+
+"She has been spoilt all her life, and is just becoming one of these
+useless creatures which are a curse to them that begat them."
+
+Joan did not return to the house till nearly twelve.
+
+"I've been delayed. I had to go and see a sick woman," she said,
+meeting her sister sauntering up and down the garden. "I generally go
+into the church and clean the brasses at this time. Will you come with
+me, Cecil? And if you were to pick a few flowers and bring with you, I
+should be glad. Where is Mother?"
+
+"Well," said Cecil, laughing; "she is preparing a sad sheaf of bills
+for Dad. She wants to go through accounts with him as soon as she can.
+He has kept us terribly short of money, Joan! I can't tell you how
+awkward it has been!"
+
+"My dear Cecil, his bank balance is much overdrawn now. We have had
+great expenses settling in here. Of course it will be better in time.
+I do hope you and Mother will make a good long stay here now: You must
+try and get her to do it. Then we shall pull round. It has been a great
+strain on him to find the necessary money."
+
+Cecil did not answer, but she accompanied Joan into the church and put
+a few flowers into the vases there, and a little bunch of autumn roses
+on the grave of the late rector, whose widow had requested that it
+might be done. Then they came back to the house and found their father
+and mother deep in accounts in the study.
+
+Mr. Adair came to the lunch table with a harassed look upon his face
+and a little extra stoop from his shoulders. Mrs. Adair had flushed
+cheeks and bright eyes. It was rather a silent meal. Joan and Cecil did
+most of the talking.
+
+As the rector left the room after lunch, he said to his wife, with his
+usual smiling face:
+
+"I am not to be seen on Saturday afternoons till tea-time. But you know
+my parson's habits, my dear. If Cecil would like to take you for a
+drive, we have the pony and jingle ready for your use. Joan, you'll be
+having the choir practice at three, I suppose?"
+
+"Yes," responded Joan; "we'll respect your sermon-making, Dad, and
+won't come near you."
+
+"And you and I will finish and square up accounts on Monday," said the
+rector, turning to his wife.
+
+"Oh, very well. I am not in a hurry, I assure you."
+
+They separated. Joan was conscious of disturbance in the atmosphere.
+She went up to her room for a few minutes' quiet. She felt to-day as
+if she could not overtake things. Her mother had asked her to come
+and help her unpack. Sophia expected her to give out the linen to be
+aired, Jenny was hopelessly behind with everything. It was a lovely
+day, and apples ought to be picked in the orchard. The flowers in the
+drawing-room and dining-room required to be freshened up.
+
+"Oh!" she thought. "For six pairs of hands at least!"
+
+And then she sat down by her window.
+
+"I will not let my soul get chafed if I can help it!" she said.
+
+She drew a well-worn little Bible to her. The quiet and fresh coolness
+of her room soothed her. She turned to her morning reading, the lesson
+for the day. She had read it hastily when she rose that morning, but a
+whiff of its fragrance had been with her ever since; and now she looked
+at the verse again which had been simmering in her mind:
+
+ "Strengthened with all might, according to His glorious power unto all
+patience, and long-suffering with joyfulness."
+
+"Yes!" she mused. "Patience, long-suffering, joyfulness—a strange
+mixture, but just what I need!"
+
+A soft, happy glow came into her blue eyes. Joan's religion was real
+and very precious to her; but she could not talk about it. For a moment
+she closed her eyes, and her lips moved. Then a robin perched on her
+window ledge outside and burst into his autumn song.
+
+Joan smiled happily as she got up from her seat.
+
+"And that small scamp hasn't the least idea how he is going to be fed
+through the winter!"
+
+She sang under her breath as she went into her mother's room. For the
+rest of the afternoon she was more than busy, but at tea-time she sat
+down to enjoy a well-earned rest. They gathered in the low, quaint
+drawing-room.
+
+Mr. Adair asked that a cup of tea should be sent him. He was not a
+clever man and sometimes found it very difficult not to repeat himself
+from Sunday to Sunday. To-day he was nervously anxious that his sermon
+should be appreciated by his intellectual wife. He sat looking over
+some very old sermons of his, written with the fire and energy of
+youth, if not with the mellowed experience of some of his later ones.
+
+And at length, he remembered a sermon he had preached in the abbey
+church in which he had first seen his wife. He remembered two or three
+people had complimented him upon it, General Lovell amongst the number.
+He had never preached from the same text again. He looked over it,
+then determined to take it and improve upon it, if he could. He had
+a longing in the depths of his heart that his wife should appreciate
+and express her appreciation of his preaching. She was not given to
+church-going; she hardly ever attended the weekday services, and when
+she was home, had a habit of going to see some of her many friends, and
+staying with them for the week-end.
+
+Very carefully did the rector read over his old sermon. Very earnestly
+did he pray, as he revised it, that it might not only be the means of
+helping and blessing his flock, but in particular his wife and family.
+
+After tea, Joan produced a large work-basket.
+
+"You look like the mother of a family," laughed Cecil. She was sitting
+on the hearth-rug doing nothing.
+
+Her mother was at an old-fashioned davenport writing letters.
+
+"The house linen is in a very ancient stage. Come, Cecil, help me. Here
+is a thimble."
+
+"I know you are going to hand me over the surplice I would not do this
+morning. Do you always go on like this, Joan? It is sordid drudgery.
+You are just an upper servant in the house."
+
+"I won't quote a verse which I'm sure you know, about 'the trivial
+round, the common task.' Things must be done, Cecil, dear. You would
+not like to have come back to a dirty, untidy, uncared-for home."
+
+"It's rather a poor, shabby one," said Cecil discontentedly.
+
+She rubbed a slipper up and down the threadbare carpet and looked round
+the room with a puckered brow.
+
+"That's unkind of you," said Joan good-humouredly. "If you only knew
+how hard I worked to make you like it! And though we've been here such
+a short time, I have already learnt to love it. You haven't seen its
+beauties. I look out of my window and watch the sunsets behind that
+belt of pines. They are tipped with gold, and their straight, pure pink
+trunks are edged with crimson. The owls begin to hoot. Sometimes I
+put a shawl over my head and go out on that little hillock of heather
+at the back of our orchard, and when I have inhaled all the delicious
+odour of pines and heather, I turn back into the house. Its quaint
+rooms and passages, and the country smell in it is joy to me."
+
+"I feel as if I can hardly breathe here!" Cecil drew a long sigh, then
+she coughed, shivered, and drew near to the fire. "I find it cold and
+depressing. I'm not an out-of-door person like you. I don't revel in
+open windows, and cold baths, and draughts all day long."
+
+"Have you caught a fresh cold Cecil?" Mrs. Adair showed that she was
+not oblivious of the conversation going on. Her tone was anxious.
+
+"Oh, no," said Cecil carelessly. "I'm much as usual. Is my bedroom fire
+lighted yet, Joan? I think I'll go up and have a laze before dinner."
+
+Joan dropped her work and left the room. In a few minutes she came back.
+
+"It is lighted now, Cecil, and the room does not seem cold."
+
+Cecil nodded, then got up from the rug and went out.
+
+Joan took up her work again.
+
+Her mother left her writing and came to the fire.
+
+"I want to have a little talk with you, Joan. You seem like a
+will-o'-the-wisp—in and out of the house a dozen times in an hour."
+
+"Saturday is a busy day, Mother; but I am quiet now."
+
+Joan looked up, and her blue eyes encountered her mother's dark, bright
+ones fixed upon her.
+
+"I am writing to Lady Alicia; I had a letter from her to-day. She asks
+me if you have snapped your links with college for good and for all, or
+whether your career there has led to anything?"
+
+Joan darned away at the surplice, but her cheeks grew hot. She had not
+meant to confide in her mother at present, but there seemed no help for
+it now.
+
+"I have been offered the post of a teacher in a high school, Mother. It
+is a good thing. I should begin with a hundred and fifty pounds a year."
+
+Mrs. Adair was silent for a moment.
+
+"Have you given your answer yet?"
+
+"No; I must in a week's time."
+
+"Do you want to take it up?"
+
+Joan's eyes gleamed.
+
+"I should love it above everything!" she said.
+
+"The idea is most distasteful to me," said Mrs. Adair. "But I know
+girls do it nowadays. I suppose I ought to adapt my thoughts and
+feelings to the times."
+
+"Of course," Joan said quickly and a little nervously, "I feel we could
+not leave Dad alone now; but I hoped that perhaps Cecil would be strong
+enough to stay here and help in the parish."
+
+"Cecil will never be strong enough for parish work," Mrs. Adair said
+decidedly. "I am in continual anxiety over her. She looks as if a
+breath of wind could carry her away. Our doctor at Cannes told me that
+sunshine was absolutely essential to her. He advised Algiers this
+winter, but I suppose it is impossible."
+
+"I believe she would be quite happy and well here," said Joan
+desperately; "it is so very healthy, Mother."
+
+"I did not find it so when you were children," said Mrs. Adair
+bitterly. "My memory takes me back to the biting east winds every
+spring, and the struggle to keep the little ones warm and free from
+colds and chilblains through the long winters. It laid the seeds of
+disease in the boys, and made Cecil what she is at present."
+
+"Oh, Mother!" gasped Joan. "I had no idea you felt like this about it.
+We ought not to have come."
+
+"Beggars cannot be choosers. It gives us an extra two hundred pounds a
+year, and it is all right for you and your father."
+
+"Are you not—not going to try a winter here?" asked Joan falteringly.
+
+"I don't think it will be possible. In any case, Cecil cannot take your
+place, and parish work is above and beyond me. I never ought to have
+been a parson's wife, and that is the simple truth. The parish comes
+before the home with your father. He told me that six months after we
+were married. I, like the silly child I was, thought only of the cosy
+home I was going to make and keep for him. The parish was of no account
+in my eyes then."
+
+Mrs. Adair smiled, but there was a wistful sadness in her tone. Joan
+looked at her and thought that she had never seen her mother look more
+beautiful. As a little child she had adored her, but Mrs. Adair had
+given most of her affection to the delicate little daughter, and not to
+the healthy, rosy romp. Joan and her mother, in spite of intellectual
+sympathies, had always lived apart from each other, and there was a
+certain amount of constraint between them now.
+
+Yet Mrs. Adair had never been quite so confidential with Joan before.
+The girl's warm heart quickened and glowed. She dropped her work and
+went down on her knees before her mother impulsively. Taking her hands
+in hers, she said:
+
+"Mother, dear, Dad is getting old. He may have made mistakes when he
+was a young man, but one can't blame him for his enthusiasm for work.
+Now he appreciates his home very much. If you could only have heard him
+since he has been here! 'Joan, don't you think your mother will like
+it? I have cut down that elm to give her a peep of the heath from her
+window! She must like the space and room in this old, rambling house!'
+Oh, Mother! His one desire has been that our home should contain us
+all, as it used to long ago."
+
+Mrs. Adair looked into the glowing fire in front of her. She did not
+withdraw her hands from Joan's clasp; but her voice came in its cold
+frostiness like a cold water douche upon Joan's hot spirit.
+
+"My dear, you talk as if I am wilfully staying away from you from
+mere caprice. Surely you know that it is Cecil's health that keeps us
+abroad. I have not found fault with the house. I think you have done
+wonders in it. Naturally the small, low rooms seem airless to us after
+our lofty hotel rooms abroad, but you have done your best to make
+them comfortable. And now there is another matter I must mention. You
+are under-staffed. It is not possible to work a house of this size
+comfortably with two maids. As Cecil says, you are wearing yourself
+out doing the work of a servant half your days. And this little Jenny
+is too young for her duties. Get a third maid as quickly as you can.
+She will ease everyone all round. Sophia may know of some one locally;
+she is a native of this place and had a large family of brothers and
+sisters, if I remember rightly."
+
+"But," said Joan, going back to her chair and taking up her work again;
+"I am not always in such a bustle as you have seen me. When Dad and I
+are alone, we get along without a ripple. Of course, every extra person
+makes a difference, and the extra fires, and the waiting, and the
+novelty of it has rather turned Jenny's head and made her appear less
+efficient than she really is. We have to economise just now, because
+we have had such heavy expenses. Of course, if—if you are not going
+away just yet—we can get extra help. You see, Mother, if I took this
+post which is offered to me, I could give Dad some material help. It is
+rather a puzzle to me how to act."
+
+Mrs. Adair was about to speak, when the door opened and the rector came
+in rubbing his hands cheerfully.
+
+"Well, Cecilia, dearest, it is delightful to come in and find you here.
+I have earned a rest, I consider."
+
+He pulled up an easy chair to the fire, then leant over and patted
+his wife's hand caressingly. "How is your baby? It's such a lovely
+moonlight night. I'm hoping for a fine day to-morrow. Times have
+altered since we were here before. I have only two services to take
+in this village. Old Bradsbrook is worked from Nettleburn, so you see
+I need no curate. I have never felt heartier in my life! And I really
+believe both you and little Cecil will soon derive the greatest benefit
+from our bracing air. Joan, the squire has just sent in another brace
+of pheasants. Very kind of him, isn't it? You will like to renew your
+acquaintance with Lady Gascoigne, will you not, Cecilia? You and she
+always got on so well together."
+
+"Did we? I forget."
+
+Mrs. Adair rose from her chair and went across to her writing-table.
+
+"I must finish my letters," she said. "The post goes at seven, does it
+not?"
+
+Mr. Adair's face fell. He dearly loved a chat between tea and dinner.
+He and Joan generally talked over the village at this time, and told
+each other any interesting bits of information which it had been their
+lot to gather during the day. And he had been looking forward to a
+firelight chat with his wife. He had so many things to tell her, and
+somehow or other he had hardly seen her since she had arrived. For a
+moment he sank back into his chair like an old man; then his natural
+liking for country gossip could not be restrained.
+
+"Joan," he said in a husky, penetrating whisper, "Rolleston Court is
+opened. Major Armitage returned two days ago."
+
+"Please don't whisper, John; it is so distracting. You won't disturb me
+in the least if you talk."
+
+Mrs. Adair half turned in her chair as she spoke. Her husband
+brightened up.
+
+"Very well, my dear. You are clever enough to write, I know, and give
+half an ear to my news at the same time."
+
+"And has Major Armitage brought back a wife with him, Dad?" Joan asked
+with interest.
+
+"No; he is quite alone. Rather strange, isn't it? And it seems old
+Mrs. Bone was officious enough to ask after his lady, and when she was
+coming. He told her he had no lady coming, and dismissed her on the
+spot. She is dreadfully put out. He paid her a month's wages, and said
+she would not suit him. And now Sophia's widowed sister, Maria Bucke,
+has been engaged by him. You remember the rivalry between her and Mrs.
+Bone as to which should get the post as his housekeeper. Of course,
+Maria is triumphant."
+
+"And Sophia will be delighted. But what a martinet he must be! Does
+he think a country village will not talk when such dainty furniture
+comes down by rail? Old Mrs. Bone told me herself that there is a most
+exquisite little boudoir fitted up for a lady's use, even down to a
+work-basket."
+
+"Oh, how you gossip!"
+
+Mrs. Adair said it with her light laugh, and Joan joined her in the
+laugh.
+
+"Major Armitage is the centre of our interest just now, Mother. After
+shutting up the place all these years because he is too poor to live
+there, he has come into money and has returned to it. He has spared no
+money in doing it up. We quite expected he was going to be married."
+
+"We met him in Italy last year," said Mrs. Adair, letting her pen drop
+between her fingers. "He is a great musician. I never enjoyed anything
+so much in my life as listening to him playing in a little monastery
+chapel out in the country. We were passing by, and it was like music
+from another world. We were told afterwards who it was that was
+playing. He is a peculiar man—very reserved—and as a rule will not go
+into society. I suppose he felt leaving the Service very much. Was it
+not blindness that made him do it?"
+
+"Yes," said Joan. "Lady Gascoigne was talking about him the other day.
+It was in the Boer War. They said he would lose his sight, and he sent
+in his papers; and then, four years afterwards, a clever oculist cured
+him completely."
+
+"I can't imagine what he will do with himself down here," said Mrs.
+Adair. Then she went on with her writing.
+
+Joan and her father chatted on until the dressing bell for dinner
+sounded.
+
+Both Mrs. Adair and Cecil went to bed very early.
+
+As Joan lay her head on her pillow, she went over again in her mind her
+short talk with her mother.
+
+"It will break Dad's heart if they go off again! I wish—I wish—Oh, why
+does marriage sometimes bring such a gulf between husband and wife? It
+makes one dread it for oneself!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+RECTORY LIFE
+
+SUNDAY morning was bright and clear, but Mr. Adair came to breakfast
+with a dejected air.
+
+"Your mother is not very well. She is staying in bed," he said to Joan.
+
+It was so like old times that Joan almost smiled. She was sorry for
+her father, for he had set his heart on seeing his wife in church that
+morning, and the disappointment was great. Joan was hurrying through
+her morning duties, for Sunday school claimed her at ten, and she went
+straight into church afterwards. As she was going out of the house,
+Cecil came down the stairs.
+
+"Are you coming to church?" Joan asked.
+
+"I don't feel much like it. Is the church warmed properly?"
+
+"As warm as a toast. Do come, Cecil. Dad will be so sorry if you don't."
+
+"Shall I see Major Armitage there?" Cecil asked, mischief in her eyes.
+"I rather took a liking to him abroad. I was the only woman he would
+speak to in the hotel."
+
+Joan's rather impatient spirit got the better of her. "You ought to be
+ashamed of yourself. What is church for?"
+
+"To meet one's neighbours," said Cecil, provokingly, "and criticise
+best hats and coats."
+
+Joan slammed the door after her.
+
+"She's as godless as a heathen!"
+
+But before she got to school, she was taking herself to task for
+impatience.
+
+"I shall never win her if I am so hot-tempered. How badly I have begun
+the day!"
+
+Her class soothed her. Joan was a born lover of children, and they all
+adored her. When she went into church, and took her seat at the organ,
+she forgot all her vexations. The little church was full, for Mr. Adair
+was already winning the hearts of his people by his simple kindliness
+and whole-hearted interest in every individual.
+
+Cecil came in late. She sat alone in the rectory seat, and hardly
+hid her curiosity about the various members of the congregation. The
+squire's large seat was full. Sir Joseph and Lady Gascoigne were most
+regular in their attendance at church. Sir Joseph was the rector's
+churchwarden. Their daughter Rose, or Banty as she was usually called,
+was with them, also Wilmot Gascoigne, Derrick, and two other men who
+had been asked down for shooting.
+
+Behind them sat the doctor's wife, a pretty little woman, with two
+fascinating small boys. A maiden lady completed the circle of Old
+Bellerton society; but following Cecil's entrance came Major Armitage.
+He slipped into the last seat next the door, and was the first to leave
+the church. Cecil's hopes of speaking to him were frustrated. She was
+looking very pretty, dressed in a pale blue cloth coat and skirt and
+black furs. When Derrick came up to her after church, she greeted him
+warmly.
+
+"You haven't grown much," were his first words.
+
+"Don't make personal remarks, or I shall do the same. Do come back to
+lunch with us. It is so dull. I feel I could talk to a pump, I'm so
+bored."
+
+"I couldn't be bored if I lived in the same house as Joan!" He tried to
+look severe, but failed.
+
+Then the Gascoignes came up. Derrick did not accept the invitation to
+lunch, but he had a word aside with Joan.
+
+"How are things going? Are they humming?"
+
+Joan smiled.
+
+"Oh, well—we've hardly shaken down yet."
+
+"Get the little malingerer to buckle to!"
+
+"Oh, hush, Derrick! I won't have it."
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"She's a radiant picture of health and beauty."
+
+"Yes," said Joan heartily. "I love to watch her. You know how I always
+have admired Cecil, though I suppose, as she belongs to me, I ought not
+to do it. I must speak to Mrs. Blount."
+
+She nodded to him and crossed the road to speak to the doctor's wife.
+The boys, Harry and Alan, seized hold of her.
+
+"You told us you would show us where nuts grow!"
+
+"We're waiting for you to come out with us."
+
+"I can't do it yet," Joan told them.
+
+They hung upon her arms.
+
+"You must fix a day now. She must, Mums. She promised."
+
+"Well, I'll try next Wednesday afternoon," Joan told them.
+
+They were pacified. Then Miss Borfield, who lived in a tiny cottage at
+the end of the village, came up to talk to Joan of a sick girl in whom
+she was interested.
+
+When she eventually reached home, she found her mother in the
+drawing-room on the chintz couch.
+
+"I have one of my headaches, Joan. I won't come into the dining-room to
+lunch. Send me something in here."
+
+Cecil was quiet and a little glum at luncheon. She was a girl of many
+moods. When Joan asked her how she liked the Gascoignes, she said:
+
+"That Banty is simply a great cow! 'Do you hunt? Like to join our
+hockey club? S'pose you don't shoot?' And when I had said 'no' to all
+these queries, she turned her back on me."
+
+"She is rather awkward," said Joan, laughing. "But she is very
+good-natured. I have met her once or twice striding over the heath
+with her dogs. She loves Nature, and so do I; so we have that taste in
+common."
+
+"Did you notice Major Armitage? He was like a man in a dream while you
+were playing the voluntary. I know he was longing to do it himself."
+
+"Armitage," said Mr. Adair, rousing himself out of a fit of
+abstraction. "He came to me in the vestry; asked if he might have
+the key of the organ sometimes. I asked him if he was a good enough
+musician to warrant my turning over our beautiful little organ to him,
+but he seemed to think he was."
+
+"Really, Dad!" protested Joan. "You need not have put it so badly. But
+I don't feel inclined to give him my key, for I am so often in the
+church at odd times. The organ is becoming rather dear to me!"
+
+"My dear, I have a duplicate in the vestry. I gave it to him on the
+spot. I liked the man, and mean to call on him as soon as I can."
+
+Cecil brightened up.
+
+"Ask him to dinner, Dad. I like him too, and you know mother's weakness
+for soldiers."
+
+Joan was off again to afternoon school after lunch. Cecil and her
+mother spent the afternoon by the drawing-room fire. Neither of them
+attended the evening service, and when Mr. Adair hoped to have a little
+rest, and quiet talk with his wife after supper, she went up to bed.
+
+It was always the way. For years his wife had eluded his company,
+though in public she was bright and engaging.
+
+On Monday came an invitation to dine at the Hall. But only one daughter
+was asked, and Cecil pouted with discontent.
+
+"I'm sure I don't want to go," Joan said good-temperedly. "You can take
+my place, Cecil."
+
+Mrs. Adair wished to refuse.
+
+"These country people bore me so Sir Joseph's conversation is only on
+sport, Lady Gascoigne's on needlework and servants."
+
+But her husband wanted her to go, and said so very emphatically. She
+smiled at his eagerness, but gave way.
+
+"The position of a parson's wife is pitiful," she said to the girls
+when her husband had left the room.
+
+"Then why did you become one?" laughed Cecil.
+
+"I know what you mean," said Joan sympathetically; "but I think the
+Gascoignes like people for themselves. They're too well bred to
+patronise."
+
+Later that day Joan crossed the heath with her little terrier Bob;
+she was going to see a sick person. As her feet trod the dead heather
+underfoot, and she breathed the fresh keen pine-laden air, her spirits
+rose. The day had been full of small pinpricks; the daily routine of a
+quiet household had been upset; the rector and his wife had been having
+long discussions over ways and means, and accounts generally brought
+him distress of mind.
+
+At the back of Joan's thoughts, through everything that was said and
+done, was, "Shall I be able to leave home?"
+
+She could not see the way out. Every fresh hour convinced her that
+her place could not and would not be taken by Cecil. She was loth to
+acknowledge it. Now as she lifted up her head and surveyed the wide
+expanse above and around her, the words again came to her mind:
+
+ "Strengthened with all might . . . unto all patience and long-suffering
+with joyfulness."
+
+"I dare say," she mused; "that may be the life God has in store for me,
+not out in the world doing the work which seems big in my short-sighted
+eyes, but just the humdrum life at home which makes such demands on
+one's patience. How glad I am that I can leave it to Him. If He closes
+the outer gate, I can work within. And I will, oh! I will, if I can, do
+it joyfully."
+
+Yet she wiped away some smarting tears as she walked.
+
+Presently she met Banty Gascoigne, who was also alone.
+
+Banty was a fresh-coloured, rather plain young person, and had that
+slightly roughened and hardened look about her face that comes of being
+continually out of doors.
+
+"Weatherproof and waterproof," she called herself. She had fair hair
+and blue eyes, with rather a wide mouth and square chin. She was always
+dressed in the severest tailor tweeds, and wore very short skirts.
+
+She waved her stick to Joan as she approached. Though they were not at
+present very intimate friends, Banty was thoroughly unconventional.
+
+"I do like to meet a walker like myself," she said; "and you walk as if
+you liked it."
+
+"Of course I do," said Joan; "it takes years off my life when I'm out
+of doors."
+
+Banty laughed appreciatively.
+
+"Where are you going? I am 'de trop' this afternoon. They had enough
+guns without me, which was distinctly nasty of them; and mother has a
+tea-party. I expect you wonder who can be at it, but it is three old
+cousins who have motored over, and the Irwins from Chesterbrook; and
+they're every one of them so Early Victorian that I am a fish out of
+water; and they're, of course, shocked and disgusted with me."
+
+Joan explained her errand.
+
+"Isn't it a bore to trudge out on such visits?"
+
+Joan shook her head happily.
+
+"You're a proper parson's daughter in principles; but you oughtn't to
+have that dimple; it gives you a flighty look."
+
+"I'm so sorry," Joan said, laughing.
+
+"I'll walk a bit of the way with you," announced Banty. "Are you coming
+to dinner with us?"
+
+"The family is. I dare say Cecil will come instead of me."
+
+"Oh, no; you were asked, and you must come. Derrick will be furious if
+you don't."
+
+"That won't distress me," said Joan, laughing. Then she stood still for
+a moment, watching a flock of curlews overhead.
+
+"Could you bring one of them down?" said Banty with gleaming eyes. "I
+could, if I had my gun."
+
+"I suppose it is the sense of skill in aim that pleases," said Joan,
+looking at her thoughtfully; "it can't be shedding blood."
+
+"Don't talk like a Quaker! I thought you were a good sort! Derrick
+swears you are."
+
+There was a little silence between the two; then Banty said abruptly:
+
+"I should die of the dumps if I were in your shoes, and yet you look so
+jolly."
+
+"What is the matter with my shoes? They fit me well." Then a quick
+sigh escaped her. "Don't try to make me discontented; some people put
+their feet into the wrong shoes, and then comes disaster. I think,
+personally, I should like to exchange mine for a bigger pair. But if
+it's not to be, it is not."
+
+"I only meant I couldn't stand pottering about the village and teaching
+village children and visiting the sick."
+
+"Teaching is glorious!" said Joan with sudden enthusiasm. "There is
+nothing equal to it. Fancy being able to take a hand in moulding or
+forming a character. That is work that will last for an eternity."
+
+Banty stared at her. She always dropped a subject which she did not
+understand, and she did so now.
+
+Then Joan began to talk about the country and dogs and horses. Banty
+waxed eloquent at once. They talked and walked together, and when Banty
+eventually turned back and Joan went on her way alone, Banty, for one,
+determined to pursue the acquaintance already begun.
+
+An hour later Joan was returning in the dusk. As she was passing a
+rather lonely group of pines her small terrier dashed forward, barking
+furiously. She saw in the gloom a man's stooping figure, and as Bob
+would not obey her call, she stepped over to see what was the matter.
+She could not recognise the man in the dusk, but his voice was that of
+a gentleman, and he was extricating his own dog from a gin. There was a
+clump of gorse and brambles in which one had been set for rabbits.
+
+"Can I help at all?" Joan asked sympathetically. "I do hope he isn't
+much hurt."
+
+"One of his legs, poor little brute. I don't think it is broken; but he
+is awfully frightened. These confounded gins ought not to be set in the
+open."
+
+"No; it is very wrong. I'm afraid it is some of the village boys."
+
+Then, seeing the poor little leg was bleeding, she took out her
+handkerchief.
+
+"Do let me bind him up. I ought to be good at bandages, as I've passed
+all the exams. in ambulance classes that I can."
+
+"I shall be much obliged. Men are always clumsier than women."
+
+Together they bent over the small dog, who had been snapping at
+everybody and everything in his pain, but, once released, was now lying
+exhausted and panting on the ground.
+
+Joan did not take long to bandage the wounded leg, and then advised his
+master to bathe it well on reaching home. He thanked her courteously,
+evidently did not want to accompany her to the village, for he turned
+off at right angles, the dog in his arms; and Joan knew perfectly well
+that there was no house in the direction which he took. She smiled to
+herself.
+
+"I shouldn't wonder if that was Major Armitage. I wish I could have
+seen his face."
+
+When she reached home, she found Derrick making himself very agreeable
+to Mrs. Adair and Cecil.
+
+"Ah, here you are!" he said, jumping up and bringing a low chair to the
+fire. "Sit down and give an account of yourself. Your mother and I have
+been hard on at politics. We don't agree, of course; but we've agreed
+to differ. I wish I knew as much about our Constitution and its laws as
+Mrs. Adair does."
+
+Joan sat down and told them about the stranger and his dog.
+
+"That's Armitage, right enough," said Derrick. "Old Jossy asked him to
+shoot. He came out one day; not a bad shot, but a regular dumb dog. We
+each had a try at him. He is too cussedly indifferent to us to open his
+lips, and declines all invitations to meals. What is he making himself
+into a hermit for, I'd like to know?"
+
+"Artistic temperament," said Cecil. "You must make allowances. Mother,
+can't we call upon him? I want to see his house. I'm quite curious to
+see it."
+
+"Your father will call," Mrs. Adair said.
+
+"I'll bet you a fiver you won't get inside his door," Derrick said,
+turning to Cecil.
+
+"Done!" said Cecil. "And I'll do it within this next week!"
+
+"I don't think you will do anything that a lady ought not to do," Mrs.
+Adair said very quietly; and then she took up a book, and the young
+people chatted on.
+
+Joan began relating her visit to an old woman who had sent a message to
+her that she wished to see her "very special."
+
+"''Tis me dyin' wishes, me dear,' she said to me when I got there, 'an'
+if your mem'ry b'ain't bettern mine, you'd best write of it down.' So,
+of course, I got pen and ink and prepared to do it in style.
+
+"''Tis short, me dear. Fust and last, me savin's, in me best chiny
+teapot, must be spent on me grave, so's to spite Tom's nephews, which
+be chucklin' over me departure. An' me monyment must be a tasty bit o'
+stone what will attrac' the toury folk. 'Twill be comfortin' to think
+on 'em hangin' over me wi' admirin' eyes; not to mention bein' the envy
+o' that stuck-up Lizzie White, who did have a wooden cross with two
+doves, and went an' whitewashed it ev'ry Sat'dy; an' all for a drinkin'
+rascal who oughter be lyin' lowest of the low!' I tried to get her into
+a better state of mind before I left."
+
+"I don't doubt that," said Derrick, joining in Cecil's clear laugh;
+"but I reckon you failed."
+
+"I'm afraid I did."
+
+Joan's laughing face grew grave.
+
+"What must it feel like to lie on a bed waiting for death?"
+
+"For mercy's sake, Joan, don't be so gruesome," said Cecil; "and don't
+talk any more about your old women; we get so sick of them."
+
+"You're both to come to dinner on Thursday," announced Derrick, looking
+at Joan very straightly. "Old Jossy has too many men, and I've come to
+get another lady."
+
+"Lady Gascoigne has written to me," said Cecil. "I wrote a refusal
+first, and then I tore it up. I want to see this Wilmot Gascoigne. Are
+he and Banty going to make a match of it?"
+
+"Surely never!" ejaculated Derrick. "Why, Banty wouldn't touch him with
+a pair of tongs; and he doesn't know she's in the universe. He's in the
+clouds all his days. He reeks of fusty musty books and parchment, and
+is a walking encyclopædia of the Gascoigne ancestors. Their present
+descendants he regards as clods of earth. The only word he's spoken to
+me was when he was watching us depart after the hunt breakfast last
+week. He had been listening to Banty's conversation with one of her
+hunting pals. I can't say she shone on that occasion; she never does in
+conversation.
+
+"'Great Scott!' he ejaculated. 'And is that a specimen of a civilised
+and educated woman? She's a brainless savage, and is living seventeen
+or eighteen centuries too late!'"
+
+"What a nasty little man!" said Cecil.
+
+"His inches are not few, let me tell you. He tops me by a good many."
+
+"He doesn't sound pleasant," said Joan. "Banty is his own cousin, and
+her parents are giving him a home."
+
+"He thinks no small beer of himself, I can tell you."
+
+"I will reduce him, if I get a chance," said Cecil, nodding her head
+determinedly.
+
+The talk went on till Derrick took his departure. Joan went off to
+her father's study to discuss parish matters, and Cecil turned to her
+mother a little plaintively.
+
+"Derrick seems to think Joan is overworked and I am a lazy malingerer."
+
+"Is Derrick's opinion of any value to you?"
+
+Mrs. Adair shut up her book and looked down upon her daughter with
+smiling tolerance.
+
+"I value everybody's liking," said Cecil thoughtfully.
+
+"I think you are rather lazy," her mother said. "I wish you would
+interest yourself more in the topics of the day. There is so much
+to read and learn of what is taking place. We are all a part of our
+Empire's history, and ought to have knowledge of the different currents
+that form and make it."
+
+"Oh, Mother, don't be prosy," said Cecil, a little impatiently. "I
+dare say Banty and I are in the same category, only sport is her life,
+and pleasure—society—is mine. I know I shall get hipped before long. I
+can't think why father and Joan are so enchanted to live here. It is an
+awful little hole. I can't breathe, and the grey cold is appalling!"
+
+"Are you not feeling well?"
+
+"I never feel fit in England. I hate the winters, and this poky little
+village is worse than living in a town. Of course, the house is better.
+It seems to me that even Joan is getting cramped in her ideas. She can
+talk of nothing but the village."
+
+"It is a small life—a country parson's," her mother admitted; "but you
+should occupy yourself with books."
+
+Cecil gave a little impatient sigh.
+
+"Joan is the good daughter and I'm the wicked one," she said; "and
+father's happiness and content in his small sphere makes me feel
+impatient with him."
+
+Her mother made no reply. Cecil often voiced her own discontent.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+RENUNCIATION
+
+THE dinner at the Hall went off very well. Cecil was quite happy,
+seated between Derrick and a young soldier, Captain Harry Clavering,
+who took her in. Joan's lot was Wilmot Gascoigne. He was a tall,
+intellectual-looking man, with dreamy eyes and a slight sarcastic
+curl to his lips. But when he talked and smiled he was an attractive
+personality. He certainly did not appear to despise women's society,
+for he turned to Joan at once.
+
+"You are our organist, are you not? I have never had the chance before
+of coming to near quarters with you, but I study your profile in
+church."
+
+"How dreadful!" laughed Joan. "I hope you are not a physiognomist?"
+
+"No," he said audaciously; "but you are good to look at, and too
+feminine in appearance to be a college student. I hear you were at
+Girton?"
+
+"Yes. I wonder why men always imagine that the cultivation of the
+intellect alters the sex of a woman?"
+
+"Please don't let us discuss any sex questions. They are so stale
+nowadays."
+
+Joan would not be snubbed; but he suddenly plunged into the subject
+of architecture as seen in the university colleges, and Joan, who was
+devoted to that subject, forgot everything else. From the delicate fan
+tracery in King's Chapel, Cambridge, they wandered off to continental
+cathedrals, and Joan held her breath as she listened, entranced by his
+clever and rapid talk. Then he came back to literature, and here Joan
+could hold her ground. She and he were so absorbed in discussing Horace
+Walpole's letters, as compared with Pope's, that their dinner was
+forgotten. Joan could not say afterwards which courses she had taken
+and which she had left. She only felt profound regret when the ladies
+left the table. In the drawing-room Banty stalked up to her.
+
+"What on earth was Motty saying to you? He hasn't been so lively since
+he's been with us."
+
+"Oh, I think he is so interesting," said Joan. "I envy you having
+him in the house. He must be a mine of knowledge. I should be always
+digging some of it out of him."
+
+"Why, he doesn't know a hen from a pheasant!" gasped Banty. "And would
+as soon ride a cart horse as a hunter. He's simply impossible!"
+
+When the gentlemen came in, Joan was taken possession of by Derrick.
+
+"No," he said; "don't you cast sheep's eyes at old Motty. I've
+introduced him to your mother, and they'll go ahead like a house
+afire. I was ashamed to look at you at dinner. You were hanging on his
+words like a fish on a hook. Just hang on mine like it, will you? It's
+extraordinary what a gift of the gab will do."
+
+"You are so very mediocre," said Joan, smiling, and showing her dimple.
+"I never feel with you that I can improve my opportunity. I learn
+nothing by being in your society."
+
+"That is because you're so book-proud. Don't tell me you learnt
+anything from Motty. He loves to pose as a literary swell; but I know
+he reads up for conversation like mad. Because he impresses a certain
+small, stodgy set in town, and fails to impress us, he thinks he
+isn't appreciated down here; and he'd discourse with pleasure to an
+open-mouthed goose if he thought that goose admired him."
+
+"Do you insinuate—"
+
+"I never insinuate. I hated to see his self-satisfied smirk and your
+animated and fervent homage to his intellect."
+
+"How I wish you would grow up," said Joan.
+
+"I've heard that remark before. Aren't we all a scratch lot to-night?"
+
+He nodded towards a little circle round the fire, which contained Banty
+and her father.
+
+"That's our hunting set," he said. "Cecil is trying to do the smart
+town set. She has two of the most go-ahead chaps talking to her now.
+Lady Gascoigne and those three dowagers are gossiping over that poor
+chap who is shutting himself away from his kind. 'So wrong of him,' I
+heard one of them say. She and her daughters run to earth every fresh
+bachelor. Your mother and Motty are the literary clique."
+
+"And what are we?" asked Joan. "I don't think our conversation is very
+uplifting at present."
+
+"Don't interrupt me. Your father and the Miss Grays and those two
+parsons represent the clerical section; and you and I, Joan, we are
+just chums."
+
+His glance down at her had something more than affection in it.
+
+Joan would not notice it, and she moved over to Lady Gascoigne,
+deliberately avoiding Derrick for the rest of the evening.
+
+Mrs. Adair returned home with a great liking for Wilmot Gascoigne.
+
+"The first intelligent man I have met for a long time," she said. "I
+suppose it sounds conceited of me to say so, but these country squires
+are, as a rule, very slow-witted, and the clergy have minds as narrow
+as their stipends."
+
+"My dear Cecilia," said her husband good-temperedly, "you are very
+severe on the poor clergy, but I am glad you enjoyed yourself. I
+thought you would. These social gatherings are very pleasant."
+
+"I couldn't get any innings with Motty, as they call him," said Cecil.
+"But I suppose he will find his way round here, if you like him,
+Mother."
+
+Joan said nothing. She felt that she would see little more of Wilmot
+whilst her mother was interested in him. Mrs. Adair was a very
+fascinating woman, and she knew it.
+
+Joan received a letter the next morning which sent her about her
+household duties with an absent mind and clouded brow. It was to remind
+her that there were other applicants waiting for the post which had
+been offered her, and that she must delay no longer in sending her
+reply.
+
+At luncheon the rector said in his genial way:
+
+"Cecilia, my dear, I want to have a small parish gathering soon—a
+kind of house warming. I want my parishioners to know you; there are
+farmers' wives scattered over the heath, and many who used to know us
+in the old days. It would be nice to gather them together and make them
+feel that we are their friends. Joan suggests Christmas, but that is a
+long way off. What do you think about it? And do you think you could
+manage to say a few words to them? You are so clever at expressing
+yourself that I am sure you would not find it difficult. It would
+please me very much if you would."
+
+Mrs. Adair slowly shook her head.
+
+"No, John, I have never interfered with your province, and I have some
+visits I must make to some of my own people. My brother in Edinburgh
+has asked me to take Cecil there for a few weeks. It is a long time
+since I have seen him, so I should like to go."
+
+"It is an expensive journey," said Mr. Adair in disconsolate tones;
+"but we must postpone our gathering till you come back."
+
+"Pray don't think of such a thing. Joan and you are quite equal to
+entertaining them. You know how I loathe parish functions of any sort!"
+
+There was a little silence. The rector was bitterly disappointed that
+his wife was thinking of leaving him again so soon. In a few moments he
+said:
+
+"I hoped, my dear, after your long sojourn abroad you were going to
+settle down quietly here for the winter."
+
+"I am never going to give up seeing my own people."
+
+Mrs. Adair's tone was proud and cold.
+
+The rector heaved a sigh.
+
+"Well, well, a few weeks will soon pass; and we shall have you back
+again."
+
+Then Joan spoke, though she knew it was an unpropitious moment.
+
+"I am wondering if I must decline this post of teaching that has been
+offered me. I told you about it, Mother. It is a chance that may never
+come to me again."
+
+"Your father and you must settle that together," said Mrs. Adair; "if
+he can spare you, I have no objection to offer."
+
+"He must have one of us here," said Joan slowly.
+
+Cecil looked up laughing.
+
+"My dear Joan, there is tragedy in your tone. Be thankful that your
+duties keep you here, instead of going out to earn your bread. You know
+quite well that you are the only one of us that is cut out for parish
+work. I should make a pretty hash of it if tried to step into your
+shoes!"
+
+"Such a possibility is not to be considered," her mother said quickly
+and a little sharply. "You have not the health to do it."
+
+Joan pushed back her chair and left the room abruptly. Her soul was
+turbulent and rebellious. She went up to her little whitewashed room,
+and sinking on her knees laid her hot head on the broad window ledge.
+
+"Oh, God! It is hard. Am I cut out for parish work? Has not my training
+been for a wider sphere? Why should my talents be buried? An open door
+before me, with a vista of influence and power, and—and success. Yes,
+I know I could fill it. I know it is in me to mould, and organise, and
+rule, and yet I must shut this door and turn my back on it. And Cecil
+is doing nothing, absolutely nothing with her life. It would give her
+a new lease of life if she left her health alone and thought of others
+more. Oh, it is hard! It is unfair! I feel inclined to break away from
+it all!"
+
+Hot tears rose to her eyes. She clenched her hands convulsively. Though
+she had known instinctively she could not leave home, she had hoped
+against hope that her circumstances might change. She could not bring
+herself to write the necessary refusal, and knelt there battling with
+her lifelong desires, and the duty that was crushing them into dust.
+
+But in about half an hour's time her brow smoothed, and the light
+returned to her eyes. If joy was at present in abeyance, resignation
+and content had become the victor.
+
+"I will be strong in patience, that is as far as I can see at present."
+Then a twinkle shot into her eye. "Perhaps if I can't teach and rule on
+this earth, I may do it in the Millennium!"
+
+She got out her writing-case and wrote her letter in a firm hand. After
+she had sealed it, she sat looking out of her window.
+
+"A great renunciation," she said to herself; "and yet nobody will
+believe it. Cecil laughs at the notion. But I have not done it very
+willingly. Now I must look forward, and never back at it. That phase in
+my life is over. Thank God, I can still impart knowledge, though of a
+different kind, to my small Sunday scholars. And I dare say from above
+it looks the highest class after all. What a lovely afternoon! I will
+go and get the apples in."
+
+She ran lightly downstairs, and sang her way down the garden into
+the orchard. Cecil heard her. She was in an easy chair before the
+drawing-room fire, a novel in her hand.
+
+"What a happy creature Joan is," she said to her mother, who as usual
+was at her writing-desk. "She is like father, easily satisfied in her
+small surroundings."
+
+Mrs. Adair looked thoughtfully out into the garden. "I never have
+understood Joan," she said, more to herself than to Cecil, "but the
+present weighs more than the future in her calculations. Her apples at
+this moment are the most important things in the world."
+
+When Joan and the odd man had finished their task, she came into the
+house to find that Cecil had gone out, and her mother was lying down in
+her room. The drawing-room fire was out; she ran into the kitchen and
+sent Jenny in to relight it. Then Sophia, who was plucking a chicken,
+detained her.
+
+"Sit you down, Miss Joan, I want a word with ye. There's no getting a
+bit of talk with you these days."
+
+Joan dropped into a rocking chair by the fire.
+
+"I would like to sit here for an hour, Sophia. You have the knack of
+making the kitchen the pleasantest place in the world. When I marry—if
+ever I do—I shall live in my kitchen."
+
+"Stuff! We'll wish you a grand match, Miss Joan; may you be one of they
+who gives orders only and has the staff to carry 'em out. Do ye know
+where Miss Cecil be off to?"
+
+"No; where?"
+
+"She have taken a note from me to Maria. Aye, she would have it, she
+be just wild to get into that house, so she tells me, and, Miss Joan,
+'tis no house for a lady, and what is more, no lady is to cross the
+threshold."
+
+"You sound very mysterious. What has Maria been telling you?"
+
+"A good deal not to be repeated. But I'll tell you this, Miss Joan,
+Major Armitage be wrong in his head. There be no doubt of that."
+
+"Why do you think so?"
+
+"You'll keep a still tongue over it? I wouldn't let the mistress hear
+it nor yet Miss Cecil. He be quite unkenny as the Scotch say. You must
+know Maria do a lot of waitin' on him at times. She says at a certain
+hour every afternoon in the gloaming—from six to seven—he sits in his
+big room, the music-room he calls it, because of the big pianny, but
+Maria calls it the library, for the walls be pretty well covered with
+books. He takes a big chair by the fire, and he pulls another, a soft
+ladyish cushioned one, which no one never sits on, opposite him, then
+he smokes his pipe and he talks in a low tone which makes your blood
+curdle, not all at once on end, Maria says, but just a word here an'
+there, and a soft tender like whisper at times."
+
+Joan laughed at Sophia's awed face.
+
+"Why, lots of lonely people talk to themselves; I do very often when
+I'm out walking."
+
+"Miss Joan, 'tis this way, and Maria says it as knows, he be talkin' to
+someone not to be seen, 'a-sittin' in that chair!'"
+
+"Good gracious! What do you mean?"
+
+"Well, I be charitable and say the poor man be not right in his
+head. There be people who might say he were temperin' and playin'
+with spirits. Maria come in one evenin', and he never heard her, and
+he leant across to the chair, and he says quite distinct, 'Will you
+listen, sweet, and tell me how you like it?' And then he walks to the
+pianny and he plays, Maria said, like an angel. And once he looks back
+over his shoulder at the chair and smiles, such a smile as a man gives
+the one he dotes on."
+
+Joan began to look interested.
+
+"Go on, Sophia, tell me more. But I don't think Maria ought to spy on
+him."
+
+"'Twas by accident, but he have given orders that nobody disturbs him
+from six to seven every night. And there be other things, Miss Joan.
+He have told Maria that any gentlemen who call on him must be shown
+into the smokin'-room, but no lady on any pretence whatever is to put
+her foot over the threshold of the big front door. And he goes up to
+the little boudoir which he keeps the key of himself, and he puts
+fresh flowers every two or three days in it. But Maria dursn't ask a
+question. Maybe the lady be dead, and he be keepin' communion with
+her spirit, but 'tis a heathenish thing, and I think his poor mind be
+disturbed."
+
+Joan did not answer.
+
+"So, Miss Joan," pursued Sophia, "I want you to keep Miss Cecil out of
+his way, and you know what she always was like when a body wanted her
+to do or not to do, so determined to do contrariwise. The less a young
+lady has to do with such a man the better. Not but what Maria says
+he be kind and considerate and sensible in all other ways. And he be
+lookin' into his estate in the right sort of way, and talkin' friendly
+with the tenants. But he must have a kink in his brain, or be in league
+with spirits."
+
+"I wish you hadn't told me, Sophia. Maria ought not to have spied upon
+him. His private life has nothing to do with us. You won't let this
+gossip get about the village?"
+
+"Now what do you take me for? Don't I know that you're a safe person
+to tell things to? But Miss Cecil may get in at the back door—she
+certainly won't get in at the front."
+
+Joan got up from the chair on which she had been sitting.
+
+"I dare say Major Armitage is a child at heart, and was making believe
+as I used to do! I won't believe anything 'unkenny' about him, Sophia."
+
+She met Cecil a little later coming in from the garden.
+
+"I've bearded the hermit in his den!" she cried out gaily. "I told
+Derrick I would. I've been chatting in his kitchen, to Maria, who seems
+gloomy and mysterious. The Major was out, but I met him walking up the
+drive as I was coming away.
+
+"'I haven't been to call upon you,' I said to him, 'but to take a
+message to your cook. Don't you remember me?'
+
+"Fancy, he had the impertinence to say that he did not! I reminded him
+of the hotel abroad. He looked bored, lifted his hat and walked on. I
+have never been so snubbed in my life."
+
+"I wish you hadn't gone," said Joan. "It puts you in a false position."
+
+"Oh, don't be so conventional! He wants to be taken out of himself."
+
+Then she sank down on a chair in the hall.
+
+"I'm tired to death. I hate the country, Joan! I haven't met a single
+soul on the way there or back."
+
+Joan stood still and looked at her with a little impatience and some
+tenderness in her eyes.
+
+"I wonder," she said slowly, "what work you were meant to do when you
+were sent into the world?"
+
+Cecil gazed at her in silence for a moment, then said:
+
+"You do say such prosy things. Work! Everybody is not made for work. I
+am sure I wasn't. This life in a parsonage is nothing but work! You are
+just a slave of the village, Joan."
+
+"It's happy slavery, then," said Joan, laughing, "for I'm getting to
+love them all, and, when you love, slavery isn't in it."
+
+Cecil would vouchsafe no reply. She dragged herself up from her chair
+and went into the drawing-room to her mother.
+
+Joan turned into her father's study. There was a good deal of parish
+work to be discussed between them. She found him now with his head in
+his hands, and his elbows on his writing-table, doing nothing. It was
+such an unusual position for him that she wondered.
+
+"Are you asleep, Dad, dear?"
+
+Mr. Adair turned heavy eyes and anxious brow at the sound of her voice;
+then his face cleared.
+
+"Not asleep. I wish I were," he said, trying to speak lightly. "I
+am only thinking about ways and means, Joan. My pass book is not a
+pleasant sight."
+
+Joan knelt down by his side and her tone was almost motherly.
+
+"Don't worry. We shall be better off soon. You have had such heavy
+expenses coming here. We shall not have those again."
+
+He did not answer; then a heavy sigh escaped him. "Your mother means to
+go abroad again in January. She told me so this morning."
+
+This was the cause of his depression. Joan could hardly trust herself
+to speak.
+
+"Perhaps she will change her mind before the time comes. We won't live
+in the future, Dad, dear. Leave January to take care of itself."
+
+"I suppose you couldn't have a talk with her, Joan? Women understand
+each other. I always seem to bungle. I really don't know how we can
+afford it. I simply shall not have the money to send her this year.
+I withdrew almost the last of my private capital last year. I have
+been doing it for years, but that has come to an end, and if anything
+happened to me, I should leave you utterly unprovided for. Your
+mother's money could not support you. It is not nearly enough for
+herself and for Cecil."
+
+"But I think and hope I could support myself," said Joan gently. "Don't
+bother over that. We will hope that you will be spared to us for many a
+long day yet."
+
+Then she added in a different tone:
+
+"I will try to have a talk with Mother again about it." She pressed
+a light kiss on his forehead, then persisted in talking to him about
+some of his parishioners, and for the time Mr. Adair laid his private
+trouble aside. Yet when she was about to leave him, he called her back.
+
+"I hoped, Joan, my dear, I thought we had such a pretty, comfortable
+home now—I am sure you have taken such pains in making it fresh and
+home-like, I did think it would have been an inducement to your mother
+to settle down here. And there are such nice friendly people round. I
+have been wondering if we could not find some people who might take
+Cecil abroad at a slight expense—I have heard of it being done—if she
+would make herself useful to them, I mean, and then your mother would
+not be obliged to go. She could stay at home with us."
+
+Joan almost smiled.
+
+"No, Dad, dear; Mother will never let Cecil leave her wing. I will talk
+over things with her. But Mother is not dependent on house comfort. She
+has so many other things in her life."
+
+"I thought a nice, pretty home would satisfy any woman," said Mr.
+Adair, sighing; "I told your mother so."
+
+Joan tried to imagine her mother's feelings at hearing that sentiment.
+But she had an overwhelming pity for her simple, kindly old father, and
+when she left him, it was with tears rising in her eyes.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+A MOTHER'S CONFIDENCES
+
+IT was not until the following day that Joan had an opportunity to talk
+with her mother, and then, as she wanted some things which the village
+could not produce, Joan drove her over to shop in the small town of
+Coppleton.
+
+The little jingle did credit to Joan's painting, and the old pony
+trotted briskly along. It was a lovely still October afternoon. The
+woods were clothed in shimmering gold and brown, the sky was a pure
+pale blue, and the dark slender pines stood out in silhouettes against
+the horizon. A happy smile played about Joan's lips; she raised her
+head, and exclaimed:
+
+"Isn't it delicious air, Mother? It is so exhilarating."
+
+"I find it cold," Mrs. Adair said, drawing her fur cloak tightly round
+her.
+
+Joan tucked the rug more completely over her knees.
+
+And then she said a little abruptly: "I have sent in my refusal to that
+offer made me, Mother."
+
+"You mean the post of teacher somewhere?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I think you are wise. I do not see how your father could get on
+without you here."
+
+"No; and he tells me you are wanting to go abroad again this winter?"
+
+"It is the beginning of the year and the early spring, that tries Cecil
+so," said Mrs. Adair slowly. "She is already getting back her cough
+again here, which I hoped she had lost altogether."
+
+"Father and I are woefully disappointed," said Joan impulsively. "He
+is not so young as he was; he worships the ground you tread upon, and
+feels your absence keenly. His heart has been set upon keeping you at
+home this winter. I suppose it is not possible for Cecil to go abroad
+without you?"
+
+"Hardly," said Mrs. Adair with a little laugh, "and, my dear Joan,
+your father will not miss us when we are gone. I cannot, as you know,
+throw myself into the small life of a small village. There is always an
+undercurrent of friction and dissatisfaction when we are home. It is my
+fault. You are a woman now and I suppose you have your own thoughts and
+ideals. They must take you farther than the horizon of Old Bellerton.
+Your father considers that the four walls of a house is the boundary of
+a woman's life work and ambition. But then he has a wrong conception
+of the size of a woman's intellect. And I suppose he, and the class of
+thinkers like him, are mainly responsible for the rebellious outbursts
+of many girls who are now swelling the body of militant suffragettes."
+
+"Yes," said Joan quietly; "but you have seen a lot of life, Mother, and
+must feel, as even I do, that old-fashioned notions about women are not
+always cruel or criminal."
+
+"Your father is one of the kindest and most tender-hearted men that I
+have ever known," said Mrs. Adair quickly. Then she laughed. "We are
+a very modern mother and daughter to be discussing the head of the
+house in this fashion. But in choosing a husband, Joan, goodness and
+kindness of heart are not everything. I suppose a broad outlook on life
+and intellectual aspirations are not conducive towards content and
+happiness, when one's companion for life is offering one crumbs from
+his table."
+
+[Illustration: JOAN WENT DOWN ON HER KNEES BEFORE HER MOTHER
+IMPULSIVELY, AND TOOK HER HANDS IN HERS.]
+
+"Oh, Mother!"
+
+Joan's exclamation was involuntary.
+
+Mrs. Adair pulled herself up.
+
+"I have no business to speak so. I don't know why I chafe under the
+masculine rule. Your father would cut off his right hand for me, but
+to him the limits of a woman's wants and desires are astoundingly
+infinitesimal, and his estimate of her capacity in life is what any
+upper servant would fulfil."
+
+"Yes," murmured Joan; "but he never interferes or tries to dictate to
+one."
+
+"Well, all this is beside the mark. Cecil's health is the main
+question. I will not see her droop and die in uncongenial soil if I
+can prevent it. You are strong, Joan, and cannot understand how the
+aggressive biting cold of this village can shrivel up the low vitality
+of a delicate organisation. Your father accepted this living without
+any reference to me. He wrote of it as a godsend; and yet he must have
+known that the seeds of disease were sown in both our boys in this
+neighbourhood."
+
+Joan looked at her mother with startled eyes.
+
+"I did not know," she murmured.
+
+"You were born," Mrs. Adair continued, "when I was a happy girl living
+in close touch with my old friends and old life. Poverty and privation
+were unknown to me, for my father's cheque-book was continually
+supplying extra comforts for us. When we came here, I began to
+experience the humiliation and misery of a narrow income. Both boys
+were born when I was least able to mother and nurse them. They and
+Cecil never had a chance. You take after your father's family, they
+took after mine, and the cold, biting winters here aggravated their
+delicacy. I could not rear them in comfort, as they should have been
+reared, and my handsome boys were taken from me before they had seen
+anything of life."
+
+She paused. She could not even now mention the loss of her sons with
+composure.
+
+"I suppose I was ambitious," she went on. "As you know, I come from
+a race of soldiers who have all earned their country's gratitude for
+their achievements. Do you think it is nothing to me to have no sons to
+follow in their grandfather's footsteps, to leave a name behind them,
+to bequeath in their turn sons to serve our Empire?"
+
+There was such passion in Mrs. Adair's tone that Joan was speechless.
+The mother had never confided in her daughter so fully before. And Joan
+understood for the first time that it was the want of resignation to
+her loss that was the canker eating away at her heart, and marring much
+in her strong and purposeful character. After a few minutes' silence,
+Joan said softly:
+
+"Perhaps you may yet have grandsons to serve their country. Cecil is
+most attractive. She will marry."
+
+Mrs. Adair heaved a deep sigh.
+
+"She has nothing of a constitution. I feel she may slip away from me as
+the boys did."
+
+This little talk with her mother made Joan sympathise with her more
+than she had ever done before. She had always known that she occupied
+a very small place in her mother's affections. Her very health and
+strength were almost an offence.
+
+"Like Father's family," said Joan to herself later that day. "Well, I
+will not wish myself otherwise. I would not have a Lovell's nervous,
+high-strung organisation, in spite of their aristocratic refinement and
+dainty graces, because someone must be strong and uniformly cheerful
+in the house; someone must shoulder the daily vexations and worries,
+and my shoulders are strong enough and broad enough to bear them. Poor
+Mother! She lives in haunting dread that death may snatch away her
+last treasure from her. And poor Father! To be so delighted with this
+living, and to imagine that Mother has no remembrances of the past! How
+I wish I had known more about those early struggling days here. I think
+I should have persuaded him to stay where he was. There is no possible
+hope now of her ever becoming reconciled to living here."
+
+She made these reflections in her own room after returning from the
+drive. And when tea was over she took her organ key and slipped over
+to the church to have a practice by herself. She was just summoning a
+small boy from a cottage near to come and blow for her, when she heard
+strains of music coming from the church. She abandoned her intention
+and crept softly up into the old porch. There was no doubt that a
+master hand was upon the keys of her beloved organ. She held her
+breath, entranced, and then very noiselessly slipped inside and sat
+down upon a seat behind a big pillar, which effectually concealed her
+from view. Only two candles were lighted; Major Armitage was seated
+on her stool and was pouring out his soul in a flood of passionate,
+vibrating melody, though there was a hush and a sense of restrained
+force through every note he touched.
+
+Joan had an intense love for music, and her ears quickly perceived that
+a strain of unfulfilled desire and expectation was in his music, and it
+made her heart ache to hear it. She almost felt that she was intruding
+upon a sacred time, when a soul was baring its griefs and longings, and
+for one moment she felt inclined to leave.
+
+Then the music died away. A short silence fell, and then suddenly, in a
+soft, mellow tenor, he began to sing. The words were familiar, but Joan
+had never heard such an exquisite setting to them. She concluded it was
+an anthem, and yet from the harmony, it seemed more fitted for a solo.
+
+ "I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in his word
+ do I hope.
+ My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch
+ for the morning; I say more than they that watch
+ for the morning."
+
+As he played, the darkness of the night seemed to loom around them, and
+then the first faint light of dawn took its place.
+
+The triumphant emphasis of the first words, the assurance that waiting
+was the soul's steadfast and hopeful attitude, imprinted itself upon
+Joan's soul. When the Major came to a pause, she stole out of the
+church, and her eyes were moist with emotion.
+
+"No wonder Maria said he played like an angel! How I long to have his
+gift! I wish I knew him!"
+
+Then she shook her head with a little smile.
+
+"There are other people in the world who are practising patience like
+myself."
+
+When she joined the others, she found that her father was giving them
+an account of his visit to the Major.
+
+"A very pleasant and well-informed man. He has been through deep
+waters. He just touched upon his profession. I should like you to have
+heard the way he spoke of it, Cecilia, and the grief it was to him when
+he left it. But he told me his father had a place in Yorkshire with a
+private chapel attached—it has gone to his eldest brother now—and from
+quite a youngster he spent all his spare time at the organ. Music is
+his hobby. He sometimes plays the organ at Queen's Hall, in town, for
+the weekly popular concerts. And I believe he composes and publishes.
+He told me if his blindness had continued, he would have become an
+organist somewhere. This place belonged to his mother, and she left it
+to him. He thought he ought to come down and live here, he said; but I
+think his heart is in town. I begged him to dine with us, but he asked
+me to excuse him. He walked back with me, and then went into the church
+to try the organ."
+
+"I have just heard him playing there," said Joan.
+
+"It is a treat to listen to him," said Cecil. "But it is very surly of
+him to shut himself away from society."
+
+"He may have reasons for it," said Joan. In her mind's eye, Sophia's
+graphic picture came before her—the lonely man in the empty room,
+playing to somebody unseen.
+
+
+There was a good deal of bustle in the rectory for the next few days.
+Mrs. Adair and Cecil were packing and getting ready for their Edinburgh
+visit. Cecil had plenty of mending, which she laughingly turned over to
+Joan.
+
+"You are a born needlewoman; I am not. Oh, how I wish I could afford to
+have a maid of my own!"
+
+Mr. Adair did not approve of this visit.
+
+"You say this place is cold for Cecil; why, Edinburgh will be a hundred
+times as cold. It is the wrong time of year to go up to Scotland."
+
+This remark was made to his wife.
+
+She answered him impatiently.
+
+"My brother's house is rather different from ours. It is heated with
+radiators, and has every comfort. Cecil will be in the lap of luxury."
+
+He sighed.
+
+"I am afraid it will be an expensive visit for so short a time."
+
+His wife did not reply. She had made up her mind to go, and nothing
+would prevent her. She was not entirely heartless or indifferent to
+her husband's struggles to make both ends meet; but she had never
+been able to economise, and money seemed to leak away through her
+finger ends. She had periodical fits of retrenchment, but after making
+herself and everyone around her perfectly miserable by knocking off
+real necessities, she would relapse into her old happy-go-lucky way and
+spend as if she were a wealthy woman.
+
+"I shall be thankful to get to a house with the 'Times' in it," she
+said to Joan that evening, as she turned over the local paper rather
+impatiently. "It is no wonder everyone is so sleepy in these parts. You
+have not even a magazine club going."
+
+"We are starting one," said Joan quickly. "I suggested it, and if
+everyone will join, there will be no difficulty. I felt the dearth of
+books when I came here. Mr. Wilmot Gascoigne is taking the matter up,
+and they say what he does at all he does thoroughly."
+
+"It is strange that he has not called," Mrs. Adair said. "He told me he
+quite intended to do so."
+
+The very next day, he was announced about tea-time. When tea was over,
+he sat and talked to Mrs. Adair. Cecil yawned, and finally took up her
+novel, saying audaciously:
+
+"I hate listening to other people's talk. And I cannot join in myself,
+for you are flying from one subject to another, and each one is deeper
+than the last. I'll leave the listening to Joan, who appreciates it."
+
+"But we want Miss Adair to be more than a listener," said Wilmot,
+turning to Joan as he spoke.
+
+Joan was too interested to remain silent. Wilmot Gascoigne was a good
+talker, and, what was rarer still, he liked to listen to others. Mrs.
+Adair and he had many things in common; but when they touched on
+politics, Joan became silent.
+
+"I am no politician," she said, when Wilmot asked her opinion upon a
+certain statesman. "Everybody always believes in himself or his party,
+and seldom credits those who disagree with him with either principles
+or common sense. I should like the party spirit ousted from our
+Government."
+
+Wilmot shook his head.
+
+"It sounds simple, but it would be inextricably involved. If there
+were no longer two parties, the balance of power would be lost. And
+would measures ever be passed? Imagine the length of discussion when
+every member would have his individual idea, and each and all have a
+different scheme to propose."
+
+"Everything is sacrificed to party now," said Joan; and then she was
+called out of the room by Sophia, who had someone from the village
+waiting to see her.
+
+When she came back, her mother and Wilmot were discussing Venetian
+history. He stayed for a couple of hours, but before going told Joan
+he would like to send her down a couple of new books on Constitutional
+History, and she accepted the offer with much pleasure.
+
+"I quite agree with Derrick," said Cecil, when he had gone away; "he is
+as dogmatic and book-musty as all such bookworms are. He is the kind of
+man who thinks any book above criticism, just because it is a book."
+
+"Now, Cecil, you are talking nonsense," said her mother. "He is a man
+who has learnt as well as read. You can feel it in every word he says."
+
+
+The next day they went. And Joan felt at first a terrible blank in the
+house, though she had infinite more leisure, which she occupied by
+visiting the parishioners.
+
+Derrick met her coming home very tired one afternoon, after a long
+round.
+
+"Take my arm," he said.
+
+Joan looked at him with laughing eyes.
+
+"The village would see us, and say we were courting," she said.
+
+"It is a capital suggestion," said Derrick eagerly. "Let us begin at
+once."
+
+Joan rebuked this levity.
+
+He heaved a sigh.
+
+"I'm going back to town to-morrow, and to work. Joan, don't you think,
+as an old pupil of the Dominie's, and an attached and grateful friend,
+I might be asked to spend Christmas at the rectory?"
+
+Joan looked grave and considered.
+
+"I don't think so, Derrick. We expect Mother and Cecil back, and our
+house is small. It sounds inhospitable—"
+
+"Oh, I'll wait till Easter. You and the Dominie will be alone then.
+And, look here, Joan, let me advise you for your good. Don't be getting
+too thick with Motty. He's easily flattered, poor brute, and he really
+isn't the sort of fellow who will do you any good. What do you think
+he told me this morning? He said the annals of his family ought to be
+kept in the Zoo, for, as far as he could see, they had never got beyond
+their animal powers. Fighting, eating, drinking composed their lives,
+and that in no record since the Conquest could he find a Gascoigne who
+was a scholar and had used and cultivated the brains which had been
+given to him.
+
+"'But you're a Gascoigne,' I said.
+
+"You should have seen him rise to the bait. He simply swelled visibly."
+
+"Derrick, I will not listen to you," said Joan, half laughing, half
+vexed. "I thought men's natures were too big to allow of backbiting.
+Why do you dislike Wilmot Gascoigne so?"
+
+"Because you like him," said Derrick manfully and promptly. "And I know
+he will be your undoing."
+
+"You are talking nonsense."
+
+"So I am. Now, look here, Joan, I mean to talk good, sound, honest,
+sober sense with you now. My life and yours have always run together.
+But since I have lived in town, we've drifted a wee bit apart, and I
+want to remedy this. Will you let me do it in my own way?"
+
+"No," said Joan quickly, and edging a little away from him. "I have
+my life here; you have yours in town. If we meet occasionally as old
+friends, it is very pleasant. Don't let anything spoil our friendship.
+And, oh, please, Derrick, be merciful this afternoon, for I am very
+tired."
+
+Derrick took her hand and tucked it in his arm. "It is dark," he said.
+"Confound convention! Well, I will be patient, but you must realise,
+and I don't want you to forget it, that you have a very patient waiting
+friend in town. And his determination and patience are vying with each
+other in strength and—and in endurance. He will wait till he gets what
+he wants, but he will get it in the end."
+
+Joan's hand trembled a little. She tried to withdraw it, but Derrick
+had captured it, and though he felt the quiver of it, he would not let
+it go.
+
+When they were at the rectory gate, he said:
+
+"This is my good-bye. I leave to-morrow."
+
+Then his stern gravity melted, and it was in his most coaxing boyish
+tone that he said:
+
+"Oh, Joan, my heart's dearest, do let me kiss your dimple!"
+
+"You are preposterous, Derrick!"
+
+Joan fled from him. Half-way up the drive, she turned. He was leaning
+his arms on the gate looking after her.
+
+"Good-bye," she waved. "And work hard for your country, and think of
+your party last."
+
+"I shall come back here for Easter," he said defiantly; "so mind you
+keep a spare room ready for me."
+
+She laughed light-heartedly, and Derrick turned away with her sweet
+laugh ringing in his ears, not altogether dissatisfied with his parting
+talk with her.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE MAJOR'S HOSPITALITY
+
+JOAN was making apple jam in the kitchen. Jenny was attending on her,
+for Sophia had gone to the dentist's in Coppleton; she very seldom had
+an afternoon out, and would not have gone now unless Joan had insisted
+and had promised to make the jam instead of her. Poor Sophia had had
+three days and nights of raging toothache, and Joan bundled her up in
+wraps, seated her in the jingle, and the odd man drove her in.
+
+It was a cold grey afternoon in November. The wind soughed in the old
+rectory chimneys, and the sky had that peculiar metallic blue-grey hue
+which betokens the coming of snow. Joan looked out of the cosy kitchen
+through the window.
+
+"I would rather be in than out to-day, Jenny, wouldn't you? I hope
+Sophia won't be caught in a storm."
+
+"The master be out too," said Jenny. "Old Dan'l Tucker be taken very
+bad and sent for him."
+
+Joan looked anxious as she turned to her jam and stirred it.
+
+"I did not know he was going there. It is quite three miles off. I
+thought he was only going his round in the village."
+
+Jam making continued, she could not leave it, but when dusk began to
+gather, and neither Sophia nor the rector was back, Joan began to
+worry. Snowflakes appeared, not very large at first, but growing bigger
+and thicker as time went on.
+
+At last sounds of wheels across the yard were heard, and Sophia
+staggered into the kitchen.
+
+"Oh, Miss Joan, glad I am to be back. 'Tis blowing a blizzard. I can't
+feel my hands or feet."
+
+"Have you seen Father? He has actually gone across the heath to the
+Tuckers. I am quite nervous about him."
+
+Sophia looked horrified, then she spoke in a reassuring tone.
+
+"They'll keep him over the night. The Tuckers be superior folk, and
+their farm be as big and comfortable as any gentlefolk's. Don't you
+fret, Miss Joan. They'll keep him there sure enough."
+
+"I don't think Father would stay. He would know that I should be
+anxious."
+
+She left the kitchen and went into the dining-room, which gave her a
+glimpse of the road for some distance. Mr. Adair had a slight cold, and
+Joan remembered now that he had complained of oppression on his chest
+that morning.
+
+"I ought to have looked after him. I was too engrossed in my jam, and
+in Sophia's toothache. I ought not to have let him go out at all this
+afternoon."
+
+As she watched at the window, she saw a man in the distance making his
+way down the street. For one instant she thought it was her father, and
+heaved a sigh of relief, then she saw the figure was taller and more
+erect than the old rector was, and she waited to see him approach. He
+came in at the rectory gate and up the drive.
+
+Joan impulsively dashed out into the porch. "Have you come from my
+father? Do you know where he is?"
+
+"Safe in bed at my house, and I hope he will stay there."
+
+It was Major Armitage who spoke, and in her anxiety, Joan drew him into
+the hall.
+
+"Has he met with an accident? Is he ill?"
+
+"Well, Miss Adair, the fact is, I came across him leaning up against
+my fence a couple of hundred yards from the house. He was panting for
+breath, and pretty well exhausted by his tramp across the heath. I took
+him straight in and gave him some brandy. It did him good. I consulted
+my housekeeper, and she thought that bed was the best place for him.
+And then to ease his mind, I came off to tell you where he was. And on
+the way, I met the doctor and sent him to have a look at him, for I
+think he has some kind of bronchial attack."
+
+"Come in where there is a fire," said Joan, opening the door of her
+father's study. "How kind of you to keep him. But I must go to him; I
+understand him. Is he not well enough to come back here to-night?"
+
+"I shouldn't advise it. By all means come back with me now. Perhaps we
+shall find the doctor still there."
+
+Without a word more, Joan left the room. She called Sophia to her and
+told her what had happened, whilst she got ready to go out.
+
+"Aye, dear Miss Joan, here's trouble. But Maria will know what to do.
+She be a first-rate nurse, and maybe to-morrow will find him quite
+himself again. 'Tis no use to drag upon our heads the burdens of the
+morrow, so we'll just leave it at that. And if it will ease your mind,
+just tell Maria to make you up a bed in his room and stay the night.
+If you don't come back in the hour, that's what I know you'll do. And
+remember, a good mustard poultice will ease his chest!"
+
+Major Armitage looked about him when he was left alone. He noted the
+comfortable chair drawn up to the fire, the warm slippers on the
+fender, the dainty little tea-table awaiting the rector's return. And
+he muttered to himself:
+
+"A woman's care."
+
+Joan was back almost directly. She said very little, but outside, her
+swift strides had no trouble in keeping pace with the Major's.
+
+"It was you who befriended my small dog," said Major Armitage in a
+friendly tone.
+
+"And now you have befriended my father," replied Joan quickly. "I
+believe I have been most ungrateful, for I have never expressed my
+thanks. I was so anxious at Father's non-appearance that I could think
+of no one else."
+
+"Don't worry over him. A few days' rest and warmth will set him all
+right again; but it is not pleasant weather to be out."
+
+They were met here by a sharp squall of snow and wind. Talking was
+impossible. They could hardly keep their footing, and for the rest of
+the way they reserved their breath for battling with the elements. He
+did not take Joan to the front entrance, but turned in by a side door
+and ushered her into a comfortable smoking-room.
+
+"I hope you don't mind the smell of smoke," he said, drawing up a chair
+to the fire for her. "I will send my housekeeper to you, and she will
+take you to your father. May I relieve you of your cloak?"
+
+He helped her out of her snow-covered garment, but as he did so, his
+lips snapped together like steel, and a hard stern look came into his
+eyes.
+
+Joan, glancing up at a mirror in front of her, caught sight of the
+frowning face behind her. She wondered at it, and then remembered some
+of the talk about him, and spoke in her impulsive fashion.
+
+"I am afraid this is all most unpleasant to you, Major Armitage. Don't
+think of entertaining me or coming near me. It is only my father I want
+to see."
+
+He gave a little courteous bow.
+
+"I hope I know my duties as your host. I assure you I am not a
+misanthrope, though I know I do bear a bad character in the village."
+
+Joan's cheeks grew hot. She felt she had blundered, and then she said
+in her natural tone:
+
+"Oh, dear, I always do say the awkward thing if I can manage it."
+
+He gave a short laugh.
+
+"We won't stand upon ceremony with each other. Do sit down and warm
+yourself."
+
+He left the room, and the next moment Maria appeared.
+
+"Ah, dear Miss Adair. Your pore dear father, there! When I saw him
+staggerin' in with the master, I thought he was struck for death! I
+assure you his face were a dark purple, and he were gaspin' like a
+dyin' fish! But we got him some spirit and put him to bed, and he have
+had hot bottles to his feet, and he be now lyin' in a heavy doze, and
+his breathin' raucous—well, I must say it is that, but not worse than
+to be expected."
+
+"Take me to him," said Joan as soon as she could get in a word. "Has
+the doctor gone?"
+
+"Yes, has ordered a steam kettle, says it's a sharp attack of
+bronchitis, and he mustn't be moved. Come you this way."
+
+She went upstairs, and Joan followed her, hardly noticing where she
+was going, until she found herself in a big comfortable-looking room
+with a blazing fire. Her father lying back upon the pillows in an
+old-fashioned tester bed recognised her, and smiled but could not speak.
+
+Joan went up, and stooping down spoke in her cheeriest tone:
+
+"Well, Dad, dear, this is unlucky, isn't it? I'm so thankful Major
+Armitage took you in. Now don't try to speak. You'll be better
+to-morrow, and you must just stop here till you're fit to be moved. I
+shall look after you to-night. Try to go to sleep."
+
+Relief and comfort was expressed at once in Mr. Adair's troubled face.
+
+"Now, you know, you'll do everything that is right," he murmured, and
+then he closed his eyes.
+
+[Illustration: JOAN AND BANTY CHATTED TOGETHER IN LIGHT-HEARTED FASHION
+WHEN THEY WERE SITTING DOWN WATCHING FOR THE KETTLE TO BOIL.]
+
+Maria appeared, but Joan drew her out of the room, where they arranged
+everything for the invalid's comfort. Joan said she would sit up in the
+big easy chair by the fire all night.
+
+"I shall have a nap when I can, but I will keep the fire in and the
+kettle going, and give him what he needs."
+
+She heard all the directions that the doctor had given and promised
+to carry them out. The master of the house was of no account in her
+eyes, nor did she think of him again until she was sitting up awake in
+the silent hours of the night. Then she began to wonder about the life
+that he led in this lonely house, and who was the lady of his choice,
+whether she were but a sweet memory or a living reality.
+
+Mr. Adair slept a good deal, and by the time the dawn broke his
+breathing was considerably easier. When Maria appeared, Joan smiled up
+at her.
+
+"We have had a good night, and he is not worse, but better I should
+say."
+
+Maria brought her a cup of tea, then persuaded her to go into an
+adjoining bedroom and have a bath, so as to refresh herself.
+
+An hour later she was downstairs in the hall just in the act of going
+out of the door, when Major Armitage appeared from the dining-room and
+stopped her.
+
+"You are not going off without any breakfast? I could not allow you to
+do that. I am glad to hear good accounts of your father."
+
+"Yes, I'm so thankful. I must get home to ease our old servant's mind.
+I thought I might run up again to see the doctor when he comes, and to
+ask him how Father can be moved."
+
+"I have already sent a message down to the rectory. I am not going to
+let you go till you have had something to eat. Come in here."
+
+Joan could not resist his pleasant peremptoriness. She followed him
+into the dining-room. It was a large comfortable room, with a broad bay
+window overlooking the garden. The expanse of dazzling snow outside
+gave a reflected light into the room. Joan was conscious as she looked
+at the smart soldier-like neatness of the Major, that she herself was
+tired and unrefreshed by the night's watch. But he was thinking as he
+took her in with one swift glance that he had seldom seen a woman with
+a sweeter, fresher countenance.
+
+Breakfast was laid on a small round table near the fire. The long
+dining-table in the middle of the room was evidently not used.
+
+Major Armitage presided over the coffee and tea himself. He waited on
+Joan with cheerful alacrity. There was nothing in his manner to prove
+that he disliked women guests. Their talk was, of course, about the
+invalid.
+
+"I dread my father getting bronchitis at the beginning of the winter.
+He has had it before, but I am so immensely thankful and grateful to
+you for finding him. How did you manage it?"
+
+"I heard one of my dogs barking outside. I'm afraid he took the rector
+for an intruder. It is my dog you have to thank for telling me of your
+father's whereabouts."
+
+"But you offered him shelter and hospitality."
+
+"Who would not? If I had been in a similar case, would you not have
+taken me in and nursed me?"
+
+"I hope I should," said Joan with a smile; "which reminds me of an old
+man in the village—do you know him? A superannuated postman, Dicky
+Grubb. He called me in to take shelter from the rain, and when I
+thanked him, he said:
+
+"'Why, that be all right. I do reckon I'd have asked the evil one
+hisself in if I'd seen 'im. I do be just desperate for a talk wi'
+somebody.'"
+
+"These country folk have a great belief in the personality of the evil
+one," said Major Armitage with an amused smile.
+
+"I must rank myself amongst them," said Joan, a soft grave light coming
+into her eyes at once. "If we believe our Bibles, we must, but the
+comfort is to feel that the Power above him is greater."
+
+"Do you believe in a gracious providence overlooking our lives and
+ordering all things for our eternal good?" questioned the Major
+abruptly.
+
+"Yes, I do," said Joan simply. "I believe it with all my heart. I
+always have liked that verse in Job. Do you know it?—
+
+ "'For He performeth the thing that is appointed for me.'
+
+"It takes the sting out of so much if we can feel it is His hand
+behind."
+
+"Life has a good deal of bitterness in it," said Major Armitage, "but I
+think if I hadn't believed in that Hand, I should have blown my brains
+out long ago. As one lives on, though, one's patience gets exhausted."
+
+Then he pulled himself together, as if he had said too much. "What a
+beautiful little organ you have."
+
+"Yes, isn't it? I have been wondering if you would ever like to take
+our services for us. We should enjoy it so much if you did."
+
+"Would you? I always think organists are tenacious of their position
+and resent any amateurs touching their beloved instrument."
+
+"But I am much more of an amateur than you are," said Joan, smiling.
+"And I have heard your playing once, and I long to hear it again."
+
+"Music is the comfort of my life," said Major Armitage. "I have only a
+piano here, but I am thinking of building an organ. Meanwhile, I tell
+you that I have very happy times in your little church."
+
+Then he began to talk over organ music with her. The personal note in
+his conversation disappeared, and Joan was rather glad of it. He was
+as yet too great a stranger for her to touch upon the deep things of
+life with ease in her talk with him. She was always shy of mentioning
+them herself; and he had surprised her by his words. Yet as they talked
+there over their comfortable meal, Joan felt an increasing liking for
+this man. He seemed so frank and straightforward that she could not
+reconcile the account of him which Maria had given to her sister with
+her actual experience now.
+
+When breakfast was over and she was about to depart again, Major
+Armitage stopped her.
+
+"You have a mile and a quarter to walk to the rectory through the fresh
+snow. If you want to see the doctor, he will most likely be here in an
+hour's time. What is the good of rushing home and back again before his
+visit? Stay with the rector till he comes, and write a note to your old
+servant. I will send my groom over with it at once."
+
+Joan considered a moment and then agreed. He took her across the hall
+to his smoking-room, and left her at the writing-table there. She
+wrote her note, gave it to the groom, who was waiting in the hall for
+it, and then with rapid steps went upstairs to her father. Maria was
+superintending one of the housemaids, who was tidying up the room.
+
+"I'm glad you haven't gone, miss. The rector has been asking for you."
+
+Joan went up to the bedside. Her father was awake and feverishly
+anxious to get up.
+
+"I have been told by this good woman, my dear, where I am. I could
+hardly remember how I came here. I must go home, Joan. If I am ill,
+I must be in my own house; and there is Sunday coming. To-morrow is
+Saturday. If I cannot take the service, we must get someone else to do
+it. There are a lot of things to arrange. I must—"
+
+"Now, Father, dear, I will see to everything. We are only waiting till
+the doctor has been. You must not worry, and you must not talk."
+
+Joan was very firm. She sat down by the bed and began telling her
+father of some funny experiences she had had the previous morning in
+the village. His attention was diverted from himself; he smiled, then
+became sleepy again, and had a good half-hour's nap before the doctor
+arrived. Dr. Blount gave a good report of his patient.
+
+"I believe he has just staved off an attack of pneumonia. You must not
+attempt to move him to-day. Send over your old servant; she and her
+sister here will manage him nicely, and you can ease his mind best by
+running his business."
+
+For practical common sense Dr. Blount had no equal. When Joan was once
+convinced that her father was in no danger, and only required rest
+and care for a few days, she went straight down and interviewed Major
+Armitage again.
+
+She found him out in the garden directing a lad how to sweep the snow
+off the paths.
+
+He anticipated her in what she was about to say. "I am not going to let
+your father go to-day or to-morrow, whatever the doctor says."
+
+"It is most kind of you," Joan said; and then she told him what the
+doctor wished.
+
+"If you do not mind Sophia coming up, she will be a great comfort to
+Father; and I have really so many things to see to in the parish that I
+shall be quite content with Sophia's reports once a day."
+
+"I'll do anything you like to suggest; but I hope you will feel free to
+run up whenever you have time. I am going up to town to-morrow for the
+night, but I'll come down to you myself on the way to the station, if I
+may, to tell you how I leave him."
+
+Joan thanked him with a lightened heart. Then, looking round her, she
+could not help exclaiming:
+
+"What a beautiful old home you have! Isn't it wonderful how grand and
+majestic a heavy fall of snow makes its surroundings? We might be now
+in the depths of a huge forest. Your trees and snow glades through them
+are magnificent."
+
+Major Armitage turned with her to face his old, weather-beaten,
+ivy-covered house. The wind had gone down, and there was that peculiar
+silence and stillness that fallen snow always brings.
+
+"It is a waiting house," he said, somewhat dreamily. "It has always
+borne that characteristic on its walls to me."
+
+Joan hardly knew what to say. He turned to her with a slow smile upon
+his face.
+
+"Do you know any of its history, Miss Adair? For over a hundred years
+it has been the abode of lonely souls. No children's voices or steps
+have ever brightened its rooms. Three old bachelor brothers succeeded
+each other, then a childless couple, then two single women, and each
+heir was well over fifty before taking possession. My mother was the
+first who broke the chain, but she died six months after it had been
+bequeathed to her. And she told me that it had always been considered
+an unlucky legacy."
+
+"Has that any foundation?" Joan asked with interest.
+
+"There is a saying that until it reverts to the old family to whom it
+originally belonged, there will be no luck to its possessor."
+
+Joan was about to ask the name of that family, but such a stern shadow
+came over the Major's face that she refrained, and he turned almost
+abruptly away from her for a moment. Then, as she moved away from him,
+the smile came back to his lips again.
+
+"My house and I wait," he said.
+
+Joan went home that morning with much food for thought, and though her
+father figured foremost in her mind, there was another who figured in
+it too.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+AN ENCOUNTER WITH WILMOT
+
+IN three days' time, the rector was moved home, and in a fortnight
+he was going about much as usual; but the result of his sojourn with
+Major Armitage was a distinct friendship with the lonely man. He often
+dropped in to see the rector and have a chat with him; he exchanged
+organ voluntaries with Joan, took the service himself one Sunday night,
+and fascinated everyone there by the beautiful music he gave them after
+the service was over.
+
+But though to Joan and her father he was always genial and pleasant, he
+refused to extend his friendship to society in general. And whispers
+were still circulated that he was queer, and had "a bee in his bonnet."
+Joan contradicted these rumours with much warmth, but the gossips shook
+their heads and retained their own opinions.
+
+A little incident that occurred made her realise that perhaps they had
+some foundation for their circulation, and yet, understanding a little
+better, as she did now, the working of an artistic nature, and withal
+an intensely dreamy one, she felt more distressed than ever that gossip
+should ferret out the secrets of an upright, honourable gentleman.
+
+One afternoon, after a visit to the rector, Major Armitage promised
+to send Joan a Christmas carol of his own composition. She had been
+planning some carol practices for Christmas, and he had told her of
+some with which she had never become acquainted. And then he had added:
+
+"With an author's egotism, I am wondering if you would like to have a
+look at a carol which was sung in Ely Cathedral one year. The organist
+was a great friend of mine, and got me to compose the music for some
+old words he had found in an antiquated history of Cambridgeshire."
+
+Joan accepted his offer with delight, and the roll of music came. As
+she was unrolling it, a rough sheet of manuscript tumbled out of it.
+It had evidently slipped in by mistake. She glanced at the words, and
+then with caught breath and tearful eyes she read them through again,
+and then an overwhelming feeling of shame took possession of her for
+reading them at all.
+
+ "Sweet of my heart, we are quite alone,
+ Alone in the twilight grey;
+ Eyes are not needed, only our souls
+ Touch in an exquisite way.
+
+ "Do I not see thee? I close my eyes,
+ I need not the light of day;
+ My lady sits here by the flickering fire—
+ I know she has come to stay.
+
+ "How can I paint the sweet face that is mine,
+ The face so purely serene;
+ The eyes that are softly searching my soul
+ With their glance so bright and keen;
+
+ "The proud little head, with its poise half gay,
+ Yet so bewitchingly shy;
+ The lips that quiver, that open to speak,
+ Then close with a pensive sigh?
+
+ "Heart of my heart, and queen of my love,
+ I gaze on thee, full of bliss,
+ The ache of a lonely hearth is worth while
+ To give a moment like this."
+
+ R. A.
+
+It was the key to the Major's silent hour by the fireside of the room
+which was full of his music and poetry; the room which was closed
+against outsiders and strangers, but which was a hallowed spot to his
+soul.
+
+Joan comprehended in a flash as she read, and for some minutes she
+stood wrapped in thought with the paper in her hand. Then she wondered
+what she had better do. She dreaded letting Major Armitage know that
+she had seen and read it. She felt she could not tell him; she could
+not write to him. Finally she rolled up the little song and sent it
+back to him by post, writing across the wrapper:
+
+ "Found inside the carol."
+
+By neither word nor sign did the Major ever let her know that he had
+received it.
+
+Mrs. Adair and Cecil still stayed away. They wrote occasionally,
+and one morning the rector looked up from his wife's letter with
+disappointment in his face.
+
+"I was hoping they would come home for Christmas, Joan, but your mother
+says they are going to spend it in Cheshire with a cousin of hers. We
+shall not see much of them, I am afraid. Your mother wants to go abroad
+again in January."
+
+"I think," said Joan gravely, "that you and I, Dad, dear, had better
+make up our minds to run this parish without them. When they come home,
+we will welcome them gladly, but we won't keep on expecting them; their
+visits will be always short, I know."
+
+"But why?" Mr. Adair demanded rather impatiently. "Why should they not
+stay in their own comfortable home when they are in England? I can
+imagine Cecil's delicacy necessitating a warmer climate, but Edinburgh
+and Cheshire are colder climates than ours? It is not right; your
+mother ought to be here."
+
+Joan was silent. She knew her father had never grasped and would never
+grasp the fact that Mrs. Adair had a real distaste for her clerical
+home. After a few minutes she said gently:
+
+"Cecil can have a good many more luxuries away than she can at home,
+and at less expense."
+
+"Yes, yes. I know that. But these visits seem to cost a good deal.
+I must send your mother another cheque this morning, and a bill has
+come in from some London shop. I suppose it is for clothes; you will
+understand the items, but it is for a big amount, seventeen pounds!"
+
+Joan took the bill, a dressmaker's, and then she said:
+
+"I think I should forward this to mother. She settles for these."
+
+But she doubted in her heart as she said so whether Mrs. Adair would
+do so. She never could cut down her private expenses to her private
+income, and her husband had to pay for a good deal.
+
+It was one of those days when clouds seemed heavy overhead. Some
+quarrel amongst the bell-ringers had to be inquired into and set
+straight; then Jenny was sent for from home to attend to her mother,
+who had scalded her leg badly, and Joan had to get another village girl
+to take her place.
+
+Miss Borfield called, and poured out a grievance which she had been
+nursing in private for some considerable time. The last rector had
+always consulted her over various village matters. She was being shown
+now that her services were not valued or needed. She had not been asked
+to tea at the rectory for over two months; Joan never came to see her,
+and so on.
+
+Joan listened, sympathised, apologised, explained, and promised that
+things would be different for the future. At half-past three in the
+afternoon she had found herself feeling so irritable and impatient with
+everybody, indoors and out, that she ran up to her room, flung on her
+hat and coat, and started out to walk off her bad feelings.
+
+The air and solitude were a certain cure with Joan for depression, for
+she held communion then with One Who was able to rest and calm the
+turbulent waters.
+
+She walked to her favourite pine wood. It was a cold but bright
+afternoon. The words that she had quoted to Major Armitage a short time
+ago came into her mind:
+
+ "For He performeth the thing that is appointed for me."
+
+And as she thought upon it, peace came into her soul. Amongst the
+silent pines, looking down upon a vista of valley and clustering
+cottages round the old grey church, she lifted her heart heavenwards.
+
+"Just the cutting and shaping and friction that I need," she said to
+herself, "as Major Armitage said, 'I believe in the Hand behind.'"
+
+Her thoughts turned to him as she retraced her steps homeward, and then
+suddenly she met Wilmot Gascoigne. He had been supplying her with books
+of late, but though he had called several times upon her father, Joan
+happened to have missed him.
+
+"What a walker you are!" he said, as he shook hands with her. "I always
+find you out, but have never had the luck to meet you before. Have you
+been on one of your usual errands of mercy?"
+
+"No," said Joan, smiling. "I have simply and solely walked out to
+please myself; in fact, I have been walking off bad temper."
+
+"I wish I could do that. But I don't believe in your black words.
+You are always the personification of radiant cheerfulness. I am, or
+have been, in the devil of a temper all day, when every living human
+creature is an annoyance to me. I am going to chuck up the Gascoigne
+Chronicles for a time. They have got on my nerves. I am going up to
+town for a few weeks. I want to have a look at some books in the
+British Museum. Do you know what I am thinking of doing?"
+
+"No—what?"
+
+"Taking a tour in America, and lecturing on the Ancient Homes of
+Britain. Nothing takes over there like the histories and legends of the
+aristocracy. And I want a wider sphere and a change of work."
+
+"I thought you were always content and happy amongst your books."
+
+"Yes," he said, with a bitter smile, "that is what my good relatives
+think; they are continually flinging it in my teeth. Books are my food,
+my meat and drink, and my life; but I have other aims in life, and just
+now I need money. My American tour will bring me in a golden harvest."
+
+"I should like to hear you lecture," said Joan, thoughtfully. "Why
+won't you give us a village lecture one day? Take some subject that
+will suit our villagers. One of the greatest pleasures in life must be
+to impart the knowledge which we have."
+
+"I know that is your creed. You inspire me to try. Now what possible
+subject could interest the intellects of your villagers?"
+
+"It requires consideration," said Joan.
+
+"Will you think it out, and I will do the same, and I'll drop in on
+Saturday afternoon to compare notes. I know the rector is always in
+then; he told me so."
+
+"Very well. I'm sure my father will be pleased at the idea. We were
+wishing we could give the men some kind of entertainment."
+
+"I am not a village entertainer," said Wilmot, with a laugh, "and it is
+the most difficult thing in the world to talk down to such an audience.
+But I'll have a try at it to please you. How have you got on with
+Miller's 'Indian Philosophy'?"
+
+"I am afraid I have had little time for reading lately," said Joan.
+
+"It's an awful waste of a cultivated intellect to be placed where you
+are," said Wilmot, with earnestness. "Why don't you strike?"
+
+"No," said Joan, with a shake of her head. "My circumstances
+necessitate it. I am trying to be content."
+
+"Any fool could run a country parish!" said Wilmot hotly.
+
+"Thank you, but I disagree. My father is no fool, and he cannot do it
+single-handed and alone."
+
+"There's a paper I want you to read in the 'National Review,'" Wilmot
+went on. "I want a woman's view on it. I left it at the rectory just
+now. Will you make time to read it?"
+
+"Yes, I will try. I shall enjoy it, I expect. Magazine articles do not
+want the leisure that philosophical treatises do."
+
+He turned to another subject which was then filling his mind, the
+dawning of the Renaissance Period, and he talked fast and furiously
+over it. When he lost himself in his subject, he was intensely
+brilliant and interesting. Joan listened entranced, and when they
+reached the rectory gates, she heaved a sigh of regret.
+
+"Oh," she said impulsively, "I could listen to you all night; you have
+taken me right out of myself and my surroundings!"
+
+"It is a treat to meet with a kindred soul," said Wilmot,
+enthusiastically. "Look here, Miss Adair; we must see more of each
+other. I assure you I haven't a single person in this neighbourhood
+with whom I can exchange a few ideas."
+
+"Do you know Major Armitage?"
+
+"No. He's a musical genius, I hear, and a crank. I should say he never
+opens a book."
+
+"I believe he has a very good library."
+
+"Has he? If I thought that, I would look him up. Well, then, Saturday
+you will see me again. Au revoir!"
+
+Joan turned indoors. She liked Wilmot Gascoigne, and she did not like
+him. Her intellect appreciated his; her spirit clashed with his, and
+her instinct told her that his influence was not wholly uplifting.
+
+"I like and admire him as a teacher," she said to herself, "but I would
+not have him as a friend."
+
+Saturday came, and he turned up to tea full of the village lecture he
+proposed to give.
+
+Joan suggested a lecture on the historical events that had happened
+in the county, with special reference to those of local interest. Mr.
+Adair thought a talk about drink and politics would suit the labouring
+men. Wilmot himself proposed a lecture on political economy. They
+finally settled that he should give a lecture on "Country versus Town
+Life," and he and Joan had a very long and animated discussion upon
+that theme.
+
+She broke away from him at last. "You must excuse me. Do stay and talk
+to my father. This is his free evening. But I have a Sunday school
+lesson to prepare and some mark books to make up, and it is half-past
+ten."
+
+Wilmot did not stay. He liked the rector, but it was his daughter he
+came to see.
+
+And for the next ten days before the lecture came off, he was
+continually at the rectory.
+
+Banty arrived one afternoon, and found Joan sweeping the garden paths.
+
+"What are you doing?" she asked.
+
+"I'm getting some leaves together to go on our bonfire. I'm tired of
+the untidiness of the garden, so I'm making a clearance of a lot of
+rubbish. Come into the orchard and see it burn."
+
+"I always like you so much better out of doors," Banty remarked;
+"you're so much more like an ordinary human being then."
+
+Joan laughed. "What am I indoors?"
+
+"A very superior rector's daughter."
+
+"Oh, I don't think I deserve that. I assure you don't feel so."
+
+"What have you been doing to Motty? He has left the seclusion of the
+library, and is for ever coming down here. He told Father to-day that
+he must have a holiday; and we hear he is going to give a village
+lecture. I warn you, they won't understand one word of it. Have you
+bewitched him?"
+
+Joan was busy stacking up her bonfire. She did not answer for a moment;
+then she said lightly:
+
+"Father and your cousin like a smoke and chat together. I don't think
+you give Mr. Wilmot much of your company as a rule."
+
+"I should think not. Can't stand his stilted talk. But why is he so
+keen on coming here to talk to you? That's what I want to know!"
+
+"I suppose we have tastes in common," said Joan, a little
+indifferently. "I am very fond of books, and so is he."
+
+Banty looked at her in silence; then she said abruptly: "I believe
+everybody likes to talk to you; I do."
+
+"Now that is nice of you," said Joan, turning a smiling face towards
+her. "I thought you were going to be disagreeable a few minutes ago."
+
+"I meant to be. Motty provoked me by singing your praises and saying
+that you were wasted upon us. 'A village of clodhoppers,' he called us;
+and I know he meant to include the Hall in that disparaging epithet.
+We are not clever—I know we aren't—but we are happy and contented with
+our country life, and Motty spends his time in abusing it and sneering
+at all our neighbours. He tells me he is going to speak about country
+and town life to the villagers. I suppose you know what he will do? He
+will make London a paradise, and set every young man by the ears to go
+there. He'll stir up discontent and restlessness, and make them all
+hate their country lives. You see if you don't bring a hornet's nest
+into our village schoolroom when he gets up on his hind legs to speak."
+
+Joan had never heard Banty speak at such length before. She looked
+dismayed at the picture which was painted.
+
+"I don't think he will do that. I will talk to him about it."
+
+"I suppose you are infatuated with him," said Banty, a little rudely,
+"just as my cousins are in town. Motty is full of himself. I wish he
+didn't live with us. He always makes us uncomfortable by his airs of
+superiority. Now, Derrick Colleton is quite different. It is a pleasure
+to have him in the house."
+
+"Derrick is a dear," assented Joan, warmly.
+
+"What I like about you is your variety," pursued Banty, watching Joan
+feeding the bonfire with critical eyes. "You may be a bookworm at
+heart, but you don't mind painting a jingle, or mending a gate, or
+making a bonfire—versatility is the word I want!"
+
+"It's just necessity," laughed Joan; "but I enjoy it all, and any fire
+in the open exhilarates me—doesn't it you? I made a fire up in the pine
+woods the other afternoon, and sat by it, and had an hour's reading. It
+was delicious!"
+
+"I'll come up and join you one day, if I may. I want to talk to you,
+only, when hunting is on, I haven't much time."
+
+"All right," said Joan, feeling rather sorry that she had given her
+quiet retreat away. "But will you join me in reading or do you want to
+talk?"
+
+"To talk," said Banty, frankly and unfeelingly. "I can't talk indoors—I
+never could. Out of doors I feel at ease. Let us meet in the pine woods
+to-morrow. I can't hunt till next Monday. I've knocked up two hunters
+this week, and father has got riled and says I must give them a rest."
+
+"To-morrow afternoon?" said Joan, dubiously. "Well, I will try."
+
+"Let us boil a kettle and have tea out there," suggested Banty, with
+alacrity.
+
+Joan agreed, for she wanted to win the confidence of Banty, and knew it
+would not do to damp her friendliness.
+
+"Then I think I'll go now," said Banty. "You'll get sick of me if I
+give you too much of my company."
+
+Joan laughed again as she shook hands with her. "You have a very humble
+opinion of your own powers of attractiveness."
+
+"I'm not attractive to women," said Banty, bluntly; "never can
+understand them. I always vote them a bore, and they vote me one.
+Good-bye."
+
+Joan looked after her. She swung away with a boyish stride, and was
+soon out of sight.
+
+"Oh, dear! What waste of time it will be. Why should she fix upon me to
+beguile her dull hours? And what can she have to say to me?"
+
+Joan poked away at the bonfire rather fiercely. Banty was quite right
+in her estimate of herself. She was not an attractive personality to
+any of her own sex, for she never troubled to make herself pleasant
+to them, and Joan did not look forward with any pleasure to the
+appointment made.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+JOAN'S GODMOTHER
+
+JOAN nearly forgot to meet Banty as arranged, for a letter in the
+morning absorbed her thoughts. It was from her godmother, Lady Alicia,
+saying she was coming down into their neighbourhood for a week's visit
+to some old friends, and would much like to spend a few days at the
+rectory and see her goddaughter. Lady Alicia had been to Joan from the
+time she was a tiny child the embodiment of all that was enchanting and
+delightful. Joan had almost worshipped her, though the times in which
+she had seen her were very few and far between. They had corresponded
+for many years. Lady Alicia had refused to lose touch with her even
+after her confirmation, and Joan felt that she could never express her
+gratitude sufficiently for having been enabled to go to Girton by her
+godmother's generous help.
+
+Never before had Joan entertained Lady Alicia in her mother's absence,
+and it was five years since her godmother had come to see them. When
+Mr. Adair was told, he became rather flustered.
+
+"My dear Joan, your mother ought to be here. You must tell her. Perhaps
+it will bring her back. Lady Alicia is one of your mother's greatest
+friends. I should not like to have her here when your mother is away. I
+don't think she would care about it either."
+
+"She has seen Mother in Edinburgh, Father. She tells me so, and Mother
+knows she is coming, for she told her she would like to do it. She is
+coming to see me, for she is my godmother, remember. I am delighted."
+
+"She is a very pleasant woman," said Mr. Adair; "but I hope she is not
+going to persuade you to leave your work here and take up teaching. I
+know she is a clever woman herself, and learning of any sort is her
+hobby."
+
+"I am not going to leave you, Dad," said Joan gently.
+
+Then she went out to tell Sophia, and that worthy was as pleased as
+Joan.
+
+"We shall be very pleased to see her ladyship, of course, and I'll have
+the best spare bedroom aired at once; and we must just plan out some
+tasty little dinners. How many days do you say, Miss Joan? A few? Then
+we'll say four dinners at the most, and I'll think them out and let you
+know what we shall be wanting. She's a real nice lady, is her ladyship,
+and I'm glad to think you'll be here alone, for the last time she were
+with us 'twas your holidays, and you were sent out of doors whiles the
+mistress talked and talked and talked! Oh, how she talked! And when her
+ladyship went, she says to me, whiles I were strapping her box:
+
+"'Sophia, my little goddaughter will grow up a fine woman. I'm sorry to
+have seen so little of her.'
+
+"And a fine young woman you be, Miss Joan, and I'm sure her ladyship
+will think so when she looks at you. I often think in the present time
+that we shan't have their lordships and ladyships with us much longer.
+So we must make the most of them when we can get them. Now the House
+of Lords is humbled and made nought of, and these dreadful agitating
+strikers and social ruffians are for destroying their houses and lands,
+well, the poor things will be driven out of the country; and then it's
+the ones who've driven them will wish them back again!"
+
+"Oh, Sophia!" said Joan, putting her hands to her ears. "For mercy's
+sake stop. Thank goodness Lady Alicia has no houses or land to be taken
+from her!"
+
+She left the kitchen, wrote to her godmother, and went about her daily
+duties as if in a dream.
+
+It was not till late in the afternoon that she remembered Banty; and
+it was not in the best of humours that she got her tea basket and
+started out for the pine woods. But a walk across the heath restored
+her equanimity. It was a soft, mild day, with a wild-looking sky; the
+sun shone out between masses of grey, scudding clouds; the west wind
+soughed in the pines. The distances were blue and clear, here and there
+on far-away hills were wonderful effects of sunshine and shadow.
+
+Joan found Banty first at their trysting place, and she was building a
+fire in a very business-like manner. For a little while they chatted
+together in a light-hearted fashion, then, when they were sitting down
+watching for the kettle to boil, Banty began:
+
+"I want to talk to you. You're not an old frump, and I'm sure you
+have plenty of common sense. Do you think girls nowadays are better
+unmarried?"
+
+Joan had hoped for some better subject for conversation than this; but
+she checked her momentary feeling of impatience and answered:
+
+"Certainly not. If they meet the right man, it is in every respect good
+to marry."
+
+"Yes; but how does any girl know that the man who proposes to her is
+the right man?"
+
+"I think her heart will tell her. Are you wanting to be married?"
+
+"Me? Rather not! But Mother wants me to think about it. She told me
+this morning that if anything happened to Father, I should lose my home
+and hunting. I could do without a home, but to give up hunting! Why, I
+think I would die! You see Father's heir is a distant cousin, a married
+man with a family, and Mother and I would have to promptly clear out.
+But, of course, Father may outlive us—at least he may live many years.
+I've always felt I'm not made for a wife. I have no domesticities about
+me, and men like and expect that, don't they?"
+
+"You will not always be able to hunt," said Joan slowly. "What will you
+do when you get rheumaticky and old?"
+
+"I mean to live and die in the hunting-field," said Banty firmly.
+
+"It means a very sudden death, then. Do you wish for that?"
+
+Banty stared at Joan with big eyes.
+
+"Why, no; it would be terrible, awful!" She shuddered. "Don't let
+us talk about death; it seems so gruesome. It is such an appalling
+upheaval, isn't it, of our very pleasant matter-of-fact lives."
+
+"You 'do' think sometimes." Joan said this almost to herself.
+
+Banty laughed a little awkwardly, then shied some fir cones into the
+fire.
+
+"I was wondering the other day," she said, "whether I had better say
+'yes' to a man who is pestering me with his attentions. And I thought I
+would ask you. For I assure you, I can't make up my mind. Mother wants
+me to have him, because he has lots of tin, and I'd have a jolly good
+time if I married him. But I'm not so keen on money as on good company,
+and he's the dullest man in the whole field—rides well, but nothing
+else. If I got bored after I had married him, what should I do?"
+
+"If you don't love him, don't marry him," said Joan quickly.
+
+"Well then, supposing I don't get another offer, and Mother's gloomy
+forecast comes true?"
+
+"But, Miss Gascoigne, there really are other enjoyments in life besides
+hunting."
+
+"There isn't one to me."
+
+"What do you do in the summer?"
+
+"I have a vile time."
+
+Joan looked at the girl softly and seriously, then she put out her hand
+and laid it on her arm.
+
+"Wake up!" she said. "You're half asleep. Somewhere inside you, you
+have a spirit, a soul. There are tremendous possibilities for that soul
+of yours, and an awfully happy life for you if you can only get it to
+stir and prove that it is alive. Happiness all the year round, and not
+only in the winter!"
+
+Banty stared at her again, but Joan did not say another word. She
+occupied herself in making two very good cups of tea, and brought the
+conversation into lighter channels. Banty was led to talk of otters
+and of their habits, and then she gave Joan a lot of interesting
+information about the different birds in their locality. She did not
+mention the subject of marriage again; but when they at last rose to go
+their different ways, she said with emphasis:
+
+"I'm not quite the sleepy fool you take me to be."
+
+Joan walked home wondering if she had wasted the hour in the woods or
+not. She had a very small opinion of her own powers in influencing
+anyone for good, which was rather strange, as she had a wild enthusiasm
+for imparting all other knowledge to those who were without it. Outside
+her own gate, she stood gazing at the distant hills; the sun was
+sending long, crimson streaks across the sky as he sank behind the
+pines. She lifted up her face to inhale the soft west breeze which
+seemed to be bringing her the aromatic scent of the heather and pines.
+
+"Oh," she murmured to herself, "it's good to be alive in this beautiful
+world—and I've a delicious bit in front of me. How I shall love to have
+Lady Alicia all to myself!"
+
+
+The following evening, Wilmot Gascoigne gave his village lecture. Lady
+Gascoigne insisted upon coming to it herself, and persuaded Sir Joseph
+to accompany her. Banty refused to be present. The village schoolroom
+was crowded. Joan was rather nervous when Wilmot opened his lecture by
+a comparison between a town and country boy at fourteen. He gave an
+imaginary conversation between them which tickled and delighted his
+audience, but which showed the country boy at a great disadvantage.
+Then, as he talked on, he forgot his class of audience, and his talk
+became absolutely unintelligible. He drifted into political economy,
+he quoted various authors with whom, of course, nobody was acquainted;
+he grew more and more rapid and enthusiastic in his talk, and finally
+ended his lecture by declaring that the country bred flourishing
+bodies, but that town produced, and could only produce, brains.
+
+"Bosh!" exclaimed the squire in audible tones.
+
+Joan felt a great inclination to laugh. Her father, who was taking the
+chair, got up in his genial and good-natured way and tried to stand up
+for his parishioners.
+
+"I think the lecturer is hard upon the countryfolk," he said smiling.
+"I am not very learned myself, but I do remember several authors and
+poets who have done all their best work in the country, and some of
+them were country bred."
+
+"The Brontës!" prompted Joan.
+
+The rector did not hear her. The gaping audience had hardly taken in
+any of the lecture. They clapped when their rector proposed the vote of
+thanks to the lecturer, and went to their homes declaring that it was
+the "finest performance" they had ever heard, and Mr. Wilmot was just a
+"speakin' dictionary."
+
+Wilmot did not seem so pleased with himself as Joan expected him to be.
+He turned into the rectory to have some supper.
+
+"Well," he said a little defiantly to Joan, "my role is not that of a
+village lecturer, is it?"
+
+"No," said Joan, laughing. "I don't think it is; but I am sure you gave
+a great deal of pleasure. One old woman said to me coming out: 'Ay,
+me dear, he ought to be a parson, sure enough! That's the style of
+praychin for we—a reg'lar clap-up style with plenty of noise with it!'"
+
+Wilmot tried to smile.
+
+"Oh," he groaned, "it was like talking to rows of stolid cows. There
+wasn't one spark of life amongst them. Their eyes were as thick and
+vacant as a fish's! How can you peg away at them, rector?"
+
+Mr. Adair looked at Wilmot rather gravely.
+
+"'Line upon line—here a little—there a little,' They are not so stupid
+as they look."
+
+"You had some interested listeners," said Joan. "Major Armitage was at
+the back. He slipped in late and went away early."
+
+"He's a crank," said Wilmot shortly. "I'm much more interested in his
+house than himself. It has a curious record."
+
+"Yes; I know about it," said Joan. "To whom did it originally belong?"
+
+"To the Rollestons. They sold the property about a hundred years ago,
+and the Armitages bought it. Don't let us talk about that fellow. Do
+you ever go up to town, Miss Adair?"
+
+"No, never. We are expecting a visitor, an old friend of my mother's,
+so my time will be taken up."
+
+"Does that mean you will have no time for me? I am going to get you to
+read up that book on the Renaissance. I shall expect to hear how you
+like it when I come back from town."
+
+"How long will you be away? You seem to have no idea of the life I
+lead. I cannot have infinite leisure for reading; I wish I could."
+
+"I shall be away about ten days or a fortnight. Don't let your mind
+rust. We are told to use our talents. Your most important duty is to
+cultivate the intellect that has been given you."
+
+Joan smiled at these platitudes, but the earnestness of Wilmot's tones
+made her reply:
+
+"The difficulty with me is to refrain from reading. It is not a duty,
+but a real pleasure."
+
+She was relieved that Wilmot was going up to town. She found his
+constant visits rather a detriment to her parish work.
+
+
+The next day Lady Alicia arrived. Joan met her at the station with the
+one shabby fly that Old Bellerton possessed.
+
+Lady Alicia was of medium height and rather slender. She was always
+extremely well dressed in a quiet style of her own. Her white hair and
+delicately-cut features, with a pair of brilliant, dark eyes, gave her
+a remarkable and attractive look.
+
+"Why, Joan, dear, I don't think I should have known you. You are
+looking bonny," was the greeting she gave her goddaughter.
+
+"Yes; I am always in rude health," said Joan laughing. Then, as she
+led her to the fly, she added: "I still feel as I always used to feel,
+that you are a kind of fairy godmother, quite different from the usual
+people I am accustomed to mix with."
+
+"I dare say you will find me stepping down from that pedestal before
+long," said Lady Alicia smiling.
+
+Then they talked about Mrs. Adair and Cecil, and they arrived at the
+rectory just after four.
+
+Mr. Adair came out into the porch to meet them. Lady Alicia delighted
+him by expressing herself charmed with the old rectory. Joan took her
+up to the spare room, which looked dainty and bright with its blazing
+fire, and fresh flowers on the dressing-table.
+
+"Ah," said Lady Alicia, as she sat down in the easy chair by the fire;
+"your father has his right setting at last, Joan. I always told him a
+country rectory would be his fate one day. I'm sure he is much happier
+in the country; is he not?"
+
+"Yes, he certainly is. He loves this place, and is only disappointed
+that Mother finds it too cold to stay here."
+
+"She must stay here in the summer, then. I told her so. You will
+have her back in May, I hope, Joan. I want to ask you ever so many
+questions, but they will keep. What a dear, quaint, little house you
+have! I love its dark oak and low rooms. There is such a sense of peace
+and quiet in it!"
+
+"Do you feel it so?" Joan asked eagerly with a flush on her cheeks. "It
+impressed me like that the first time I saw it. In the rush and hurry
+of every day, I lose that sense, except when I have been out and come
+in; then it always strikes me as a haven. And rectories ought to have
+restful, peaceful atmospheres, ought they not? So many who have lived
+and died in them have been in close touch with heaven."
+
+"Yes," assented Lady Alicia gravely; but her eyes softened as they
+rested on Joan's fair, happy face.
+
+Joan left her to see that tea was ready, and old Sophia, beaming in her
+best black dress, slipped upstairs to "wait on" her ladyship.
+
+Lady Alicia shook her by the hand.
+
+"Well, Sophia, your young lady is turning into a beauty. She was a
+gawky schoolgirl when I saw her last."
+
+"Ah, my lady, she's the best of the bunch; nothing comes irksome to
+her. And she shoulders her burdens with a joke and a laugh. The master
+would be lost without her. He's getting to lean upon her. I always
+do say, my lady, that women be the props of the nation. A man has no
+common sense to guide him without her."
+
+"I think we can stand alone better than they can," said Lady Alicia
+smiling.
+
+She and Sophia understood each other thoroughly, and Sophia now bent
+forward with an anxious look in her old eyes.
+
+"Ah, my lady, could you not get the mistress to be more here now? She's
+wanted. The master fair pines for the sight of her."
+
+Lady Alicia shook her head.
+
+"No, Sophia. How often have you asked me that before! But I sometimes
+think it is a little kink in her brain. She will not settle down in her
+own home. And don't you see that now, when she has a daughter who so
+well fills her place, she will be less likely than ever to come back
+and work in her husband's parish?"
+
+"If she were only to bide in the house along with the master, 'twould
+ease his dear mind. She were never cut out for parish visiting."
+
+"That she was not!" said Lady Alicia with her pleasant laugh. "You are
+a good creature, Sophia. I see you are determined to unpack me; but, I
+assure you, since I have travelled about the world as a lone woman, I
+am quite accustomed to maid myself. I'm in love with your old house. I
+feel as if I were transplanted back a hundred years."
+
+She came into the drawing-room a little time later, and the rector and
+Joan and she had a very cosy tea and chat together. Then the rector
+went off to his study, and Joan and Lady Alicia sat on in the firelight
+talking of many things. Joan described the neighbours, the villagers,
+and the life surrounding the rectory. She told Lady Alicia of the offer
+which had been made to her and which she had refused.
+
+"You think I was right? I hope you don't think I ought to have gone. I
+do not feel that my college education has been wasted, for I am always
+hoping that the time may come when I shall be able to profit by it. In
+any case, knowledge is never waste, is it?"
+
+"Not unless you bury it in a napkin," said Lady Alicia. "My dear Joan,
+I think you could not have acted otherwise, but I gave your mother a
+good scolding when I saw her in Edinburgh. She is ruining Cecil. That
+girl is no more delicate than I am; it is just a case of nerves and
+fancies."
+
+"She will never be different," said Joan.
+
+"I don't know," Lady Alicia rejoined, looking thoughtfully into
+the coal fire in front of her. "I felt that I should like to take
+possession of her and see if I could not wake her into life. She has
+brains."
+
+"Yes," said Joan; "I often wish she would use the brains she has. But I
+don't think sisters can ever help one another. Cecil laughs at me and
+calls me old-fashioned."
+
+"Poor little Joan!"
+
+Joan was sitting on a low chair, and Lady Alicia for a moment laid her
+hand caressingly on her head.
+
+Then Joan turned a flushed face and tearful eyes towards her.
+
+"Oh, Lady Alicia, I do want to work; I do want to do something with my
+life. There is so much that we women can do nowadays. This is such a
+small sphere for an able-bodied woman! I feel sometimes as if anyone
+could potter in and out of the cottages and talk to the old women. It
+sounds conceited if I say it isn't worth my while, but I really do fear
+lest this easy, monotonous country life should paralyse my powers. Do
+comfort and help me, if you can. Sometimes I feel as if I can never go
+on."
+
+"And I have helped you to test the power of your wings. I wonder if it
+was wise."
+
+Lady Alicia looked affectionately at her as she spoke.
+
+"I can never thank you enough. You lifted me into another atmosphere
+altogether."
+
+"Yes, I am not going to regret sending you to Girton. But, Joan dear,
+you and I believe in the ordering of our lives by One Who never makes
+mistakes. Why fret over this bit of your life, even if it seems to you
+somewhat inactive? It fits in all right with the plan. If we don't have
+the key to it, it does not signify. There may be some soul here whom
+God has purposed shall be helped by you. I know a good woman who was
+sent out all the way to India to help a gay young bride. Of course,
+she did not know the reason of it at the time—she hated Anglo-Indian
+society, and she was placed in the midst of it for four months—but she
+understood afterwards, and was so thankful that she had not yielded to
+her inclinations to stay at home with congenial friends. There may be
+some troubles which are hard to bear, but I never think the plain force
+of circumstances, however uncongenial, ought to fret us in the least.
+Instead of spending our time in useless repining, let us look about and
+discover the bit of work which we are meant to do. The best tools are
+used for the simplest work. If you have an aptitude for teaching and
+moulding and influencing, there is somebody in this part of the world
+who is waiting for you to begin on them."
+
+"That is delightful to think of," said Joan slowly. "Somehow or other I
+have felt it must be to shape my own character and make me patient in
+the day of small things, and though I have prayed to be made willing,
+yet it has been a constant struggle to be so. I am ashamed of myself
+as I think of this sweet home. I love the country, too, and if I could
+feel sure that I was not missing better opportunities, I would settle
+down contentedly here. You have done me such a lot of good."
+
+"Settle down," said Lady Alicia. "It may seem a small life to you, but
+'Better is an handful with quietness, than both the hands full with
+travail and vexation of spirit.' Do you remember that wise saying of
+Solomon's? You do not know from what you may be saved. I know you are
+ambitious, and feel that you have powers that are not being used at
+present. A public life for a woman very often brings great strain. You
+have a 'handful with quietness' here. It is God's will for you; glorify
+Him in it."
+
+And then there was silence between them. Both were occupied with their
+own thoughts.
+
+For the rest of that evening Lady Alicia touched on more general
+topics. She was a good talker, and had the gift of suiting her
+conversation to her company. Mr. Adair always enjoyed a talk with her,
+and, when dinner was over, he did not retire to his study, as was his
+usual custom, but came into the drawing-room, where he and Lady Alicia
+had a long and interesting discussion on Church methods.
+
+Joan listened, and enjoyed it; and whilst she listened, she pondered
+over Lady Alicia's words.
+
+"Settle down." Yes, she determined she would, and Wilmot Gascoigne
+should not make her dissatisfied with her sphere. There was no
+stagnation where there was life—and if village life was to be her
+opportunity for work, she must do it with a glad heart.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+OFF TO THE RIVIERA
+
+LADY ALICIA threw herself heart and soul, for the time being, into
+the village circle in which she found herself. She walked out with
+Joan, and visited the old and sick; she took a Sunday school class of
+girls, she attended the choir practices, covered library books, checked
+club accounts, and was as keen as Joan herself over the welfare of
+the parishioners. One evening after Joan had been practising Major
+Armitage's carol, they began to talk about him.
+
+"He must be a real musician," said Lady Alicia. "I should like to hear
+him play. I know his brother in Yorkshire, and have often heard about
+him."
+
+"He has been in London for the last fortnight," said Joan. "He often
+comes round for a chat with Father when he is at home, but I have never
+had the courage to ask him to play. He is a very reserved man in many
+ways, and I always think he has a history."
+
+She then told Lady Alicia of the gossip about the place and of what
+Maria had confided to her sister.
+
+"Poor, lonely man!" said Lady Alicia softly.
+
+"For what and whom is he waiting?" Joan asked. "I have never forgotten
+the quiet, determined way in which he said to me: 'My house and I
+wait.' Somehow I cannot believe that his unseen companion is simply an
+ideal of his imagination."
+
+"No," said Lady Alicia very quietly. "I think I can tell you that that
+is not so."
+
+"You know his story?"
+
+"I do. Would you like to hear it?"
+
+A faint flush rose in Joan's cheeks.
+
+"I can't help feeling an interest in him. But I do not want to be
+curious. He told me the unlucky history of his house, but no more."
+
+"I do not think there would be any harm in your knowing what I
+know. I happen to be acquainted with the girl. She was a Miss Irene
+Waldborough. They met at the house of a friend of mine before he went
+to the war in South Africa. She was only about nineteen then. They were
+not engaged; I suppose there was mutual attraction between them. He was
+foolish, I think, not to speak. In any case, she thought he did not
+care for her, and when her mother, who was of French extraction, and
+believed in arranging things for her daughter, pressed a certain young
+and rich American upon her, Irene yielded and became engaged to him.
+
+"I saw her when the news of Major Armitage's wounds reached home.
+Everybody thought he would be blind for life. I knew then that he
+still held her love. She was in great distress of mind; and when he
+eventually returned home, she wanted to go and see him. Her mother
+prevented this and urged Frank Denbury the American to marry sooner
+than was proposed. The marriage was hurried on, and was about to take
+place, when Major Armitage and Irene met. He had sent in his papers and
+was staying with his brother. He had not even heard of the engagement.
+
+"I don't know how it was done, as you may be very certain Major
+Armitage would never have spoken. But young people have instincts.
+She came to her mother and refused to marry. Mrs. Waldborough was
+furious. There was a great disturbance, and I suppose in the end her
+will got the better of her daughter's, for the marriage took place. It
+was one of those things that one cannot understand. Three days after
+the wedding, the bridegroom was summoned back by cable to America. He
+could not take her with him, and he has never been heard of since.
+About two years ago there was a report of his death, but though all the
+best detectives were set to work, and no amount of money was spared in
+trying to trace evidence of his movements, the inquiry did not prove
+satisfactory. Irene was married five years ago, and seems now neither
+maid nor wife."
+
+"And did she meet the Major again? Does she know he has recovered his
+sight?"
+
+"Yes. You see she lives only five miles from his brother in Yorkshire.
+I saw her about a month ago. She told me all this herself, and told me,
+too, that she is determined to wait seven years if necessary, but that
+she can bring nobody else into her life until she has more definite
+proof of her husband's death."
+
+"If I were Major Armitage," said Joan slowly, "I should go out and find
+proofs."
+
+"That was the first thing he tried to do. He went out two years ago,
+directly there was this indefinite report; but he could find nothing
+beyond the facts already known, that one night Frank Denbury had ridden
+away from a certain small town with two friends. These both swore that
+he parted with them at a certain point and went in another direction
+towards a village which he never reached."
+
+"And so Major Armitage is waiting for the seven years to pass," Joan
+said meditatively. "What a romantic story! Tell me what she is like,
+Lady Alicia."
+
+"Irene is small and slight and dark, rather like your Cecil, but with a
+great deal of sweet dignity about her and a certain dainty shyness that
+makes it difficult to believe that she is a married woman."
+
+"And he comforts himself in his solitude by imagining that she is with
+him," said Joan almost under her breath. "I do pity him more than ever,
+but he seems very sure of her. He has got his house ready for her."
+
+"Everyone firmly believes the husband is dead," said Lady Alicia. "It
+is the doubt in her own mind that makes her wait for him. It is a very
+unfortunate story, and I think you had better keep it to yourself."
+
+"I will," said Joan. "Is she fond of music?"
+
+"She plays the violin most beautifully. It is that which drew them
+together."
+
+Joan said no more, but Major Armitage and the girl he loved, and for
+whom he was waiting, were constantly in her thoughts.
+
+
+The day before Lady Alicia left, Banty arrived to see Joan. At first
+she rather seemed to resent Lady Alicia's presence in the room, but
+before very long, her brusque manner left her, and she began confiding
+eagerly in the gentle lady before her.
+
+"It's so beastly dull in frosty weather," she said. "I'm quite glad to
+come down here, and Joan is always cheerful and good tempered. The very
+sight of her does me good."
+
+Joan had been called out of the room for a moment when Banty made this
+remark.
+
+"She's a dear girl," said Lady Alicia warmly. "It is a great talent,
+I consider, to be able thoroughly to enjoy the little comforts in our
+daily life. Joan loves the scent of a flower, the breeze on the moor,
+the sight of a sunset, a fire-lit room, and a hundred other details
+which would escape some people's observation altogether."
+
+"They wouldn't mean much to me," said Banty frankly. "I love sport, you
+know. That comes first with me. The country, with all its scents and
+sights, is only a background. Joan scolded me the other day. I've been
+puzzling over her words. She told me to wake up, and said there was
+a part of me that wanted to be stirred into life. Now I consider I'm
+alive to my finger-tips. I can spot a fox two or three fields off, and
+there isn't much going on out of doors that I don't know about!"
+
+"You must ask Joan one day what she did mean," said Lady Alicia,
+looking at her kindly.
+
+"I don't think she's one of that preaching lot. I couldn't stand any of
+that. She's too jolly in herself to mean anything canty."
+
+Lady Alicia wisely changed the subject. After Banty had gone, she said
+to Joan:
+
+"There's a girl who needs a helpful woman friend. I am so glad that she
+likes you, and that you have begun to influence her."
+
+"I don't know that I have. I tried to say something the other day, but
+she did not respond. Banty is very difficult, Lady Alicia. I feel,
+in talking with her, that unless you're on the subject of sport, you
+might as well be bumping your head against a stone wall for all the
+impression you will make."
+
+"I think you will make way in time. Pray a lot before you speak."
+
+"Oh, I wish you were going to stay longer," said Joan impulsively.
+
+"I wish I could. One day you must come and stay with me. I should like
+to take you abroad. But I shall like to look back and remember this
+visit of mine. Your environment is the right one for you, Joan, and I
+am quite content that for the time your literary powers should be in
+abeyance."
+
+
+When Lady Alicia had left, Joan felt rather lonely. But the rush and
+bustle of Christmas was upon her, taxing all her powers. And when it
+was over, Mrs. Adair wrote saying that she and Cecil would be coming
+home for a couple of weeks before they went abroad. Those two weeks
+brought a mixture of pleasure and pain to Joan. Cecil was in high
+spirits, and Mrs. Adair much less captious and difficult to please. But
+the rector grew very depressed, and confided to Joan that he did not
+know where the money would come from for all that was needed. And it
+seemed to Joan that every post brought parcels from town with expensive
+gowns and wraps, and odds and ends, from shoes and boots to soap and
+veils and gloves.
+
+She remonstrated with Cecil when she showed her a delicately painted
+chiffon scarf that had cost four guineas.
+
+"Do you forget that Father is a poor man? This will never come out of
+your allowance, and he has already a sheaf of bills which he does not
+know how to pay. It is not honest or right, Cecil. I could not do it if
+I were in your place."
+
+"My dear old strait-laced Joan, your mouth is drawing itself down till
+your lips meet your chin! Do, for pity's sake, mind your own business!
+Bills can wait. It isn't cash on delivery with us. And Father is too
+fussy! He always makes a moan over his poverty—always has! And he is
+not a poor man now. Now just tell me if you think these blue feathers
+match that blue cloth gown of mine. I'm not satisfied with them. I
+think I shall send them back."
+
+Joan curbed her impatience. She shook her head at her.
+
+Cecil continued in a different tone.
+
+"Of course you live in such a hole here that you can have no idea how
+people in society dress nowadays. I'm simply nowhere and nobody—in
+the swim. Why, your old black evening dress was made six years ago,
+now wasn't it? But it does quite well for the frump parties in Old
+Bellerton. Have you been to any more dinner parties? And have you got
+to know the proud scholar and the hermit major?"
+
+"Yes," said Joan quietly. "I know them both. Mr. Wilmot Gascoigne is
+still in town. He has been there for some weeks, and Major Armitage
+has just come home. He took the service last Sunday evening and played
+exquisitely."
+
+"Get him to play this next Sunday and come to supper afterwards. I like
+him. He's a mystery."
+
+"He won't do that."
+
+Joan spoke with conviction. She had rather timidly suggested to Major
+Armitage that he should come to dine when her mother returned, and he
+had promptly though courteously refused.
+
+"Ah, well," said Cecil, "thank goodness in another week we shall be in
+another clime."
+
+A day or two after this, Joan approached her mother on the subject of
+expense. She dreaded speaking, but her father had asked her to try to
+make her mother understand that it was not meanness on his part, but
+sheer inability to produce what was required. And she knew that her
+father shrank from all altercations about money affairs.
+
+Joan plunged into the subject with heightened colour. She was packing a
+trunk in her mother's bedroom—a trunk of miscellaneous articles which
+was also to contain a good many books.
+
+"I wish Cecil would pack a few more books and a few less gowns," she
+said. "She seems to have no idea of economy in dress."
+
+"She is rather extravagant," said Mrs. Adair. "But I was like it at her
+age; I hope she will require less as time goes on."
+
+"She does not realise how really poor we are, Mother. Do you know
+that Father has overdrawn two hundred pounds from his bank this year
+already? And he has a big bundle of bills all waiting to be paid. I
+don't know what we are to do. I feel I must make money if I can in some
+way; but how to do it in this village is the difficulty!"
+
+After a moment's pause Mrs. Adair replied:
+
+"I think I shall be able to help him more in future. I am thinking of
+writing a book on the Riviera. I have had it formulated in my own mind
+for a long time—not a guide book, but a chatty history of the sunny
+shores of the Mediterranean. And this, in addition to my reason for
+taking Cecil, is why I wish to go abroad this year; I want to locate
+some of my facts. There is nothing that pays so well, or so quickly,
+as writing books. If this one is successful, there will be no money
+difficulties in future. I tell you this in confidence. I do not want it
+talked about until it is accomplished."
+
+"I do hope it will be a success," said Joan warmly. "It is sure to be,
+Mother, if you write as you talk."
+
+This idea of Mrs. Adair's did much to bring comfort and hope to Joan's
+heart. And the last days were, on the whole, pleasant to them all.
+
+On the evening prior to their departure, they gathered round the
+drawing-room fire for a last talk together. Mr. Adair patted his wife's
+hand affectionately as he sat next to her.
+
+"I shall look forward to having you back very soon, Cecilia. When the
+early summer comes you will lose your heart to this place, and, please
+God, we shall have a happy summer together."
+
+Mrs. Adair smiled. She was in one of her softest moods that night, and
+Joan was glad afterwards to be able to look back and remember it.
+
+"It is a pity you cannot take a chaplaincy abroad in the winter, then
+we could be together."
+
+"Ah! But I could not leave my parish, and I do not think I am cut out
+for that kind of billet. I love my poor folk, and am very happy here. I
+think you would like it, if you would try to settle down. We must hope
+Cecil will grow stronger. She looks very well just now."
+
+"'Her looks never pity her,' as your poor folk say. I wish she could
+outgrow her delicacy."
+
+"We must be thankful we have one daughter who does us credit," said Mr.
+Adair, looking across at Joan with much pride and affection.
+
+Cecil laughed:
+
+"For mercy's sake, don't pit Joan and me one against the other. This
+talk is much too personal: I hope you will pursue the friendship of the
+Major, Joan. I must tell you a very interesting fact. You know what the
+people say of his property, that no heir will be born in it till it
+reverts to its old owners?"
+
+"Yes, I have heard it quite lately."
+
+"Well, at Uncle Robert's we were looking up some of the family
+genealogies one evening, and, lo and behold! We have an ancestress, a
+certain Gertrude Rolleston, who was the only daughter and heiress more
+than a hundred years ago. She married a Lovell, and her cousin came
+in for the property. I can't think why she did not. She seems to have
+dropped out of the running. Now, if you and the Major would only make a
+match of it, the spell of bad luck would be broken, and Rolleston Court
+would be flourishing once more."
+
+"Don't be ridiculous, Cecil."
+
+"Tell him you are a direct descendant of the last of the Rollestons and
+see what he says."
+
+"But I think from what I hear," put in the rector, "that the Major's
+affections are engaged elsewhere."
+
+"Then he must promptly break it off and bestow his affections on Joan,"
+said Cecil. "He will if he knows she will bring luck to him again."
+
+"Some people value love more than luck," said Joan lightly. She knew it
+was of no use taking Cecil seriously.
+
+Cecil made a grimace.
+
+"Who thinks of love nowadays! People who go in for it are simply
+cultivating misery for themselves. If there's no love, there's no
+jealousy or grief in separation. It's the greatest mistake in the world
+to let your heart govern your life."
+
+"My dear child," said her mother, feeling obliged to remonstrate,
+"don't affect such misanthropy. Be simple and natural, and don't
+pretend you believe what you say."
+
+A slight flush came to Cecil's cheeks. Her mother so seldom reproved
+her that she hardly knew how to take it.
+
+"I should be sorry to be as soft and sentimental as Joan is," she said
+a little scornfully.
+
+"Am I?" Joan returned good-naturedly. "The other day I was visiting
+an invalid dressmaker in the village who feeds her mind on penny
+novelettes, and when I suggested a different kind of literature she
+said: 'Eh, Miss Adair, 'tis easy to see that you carry no feelin'
+heart, for there be no wrinkles on your brow. You would smile—now
+wouldn't you?—if all your lovers were languishin' and dyin' for
+reciprocation from you. It wouldn't make so much as your eyelashes
+flutter!'"
+
+"I can't conceive how you can let the villagers speak to you so," said
+Cecil, crossly refusing to laugh.
+
+"Well, you see what my character is in their eyes."
+
+Conversation then turned on other things. When the sisters separated
+for the night, Joan said affectionately:
+
+"I wish you and I saw more of each other, Cecil. We hardly know each
+other, do we?"
+
+"No," said Cecil, looking at her half curiously, half wistfully. "You
+are an enigma to me. You seem to feel some things so intensely and
+others not at all. If I had to live your present life, I should die of
+the dumps within six months. I suppose your requirements are fewer than
+mine, and yet Mother tells me, she considers that I haven't half your
+brain."
+
+Joan was silent for a moment, then she said slowly:
+
+"Content can be cultivated, Cecil."
+
+Cecil shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Content would make a beggar live and die in a ditch."
+
+
+They went the next morning. Both Joan and her father drove to the
+station to see them off. They were all cheerful up to the last minute;
+but as Joan was driving her father home again in the little jingle, he
+said to her:
+
+"These dreadful partings are a sore trial to me. I feel now as if your
+mother and I will never live together again. It is hoping against hope.
+I never thought they would go away this winter. I did expect that our
+altered circumstances would induce them to stay at home."
+
+"It is the cold, Father, dear. Cecil has been so accustomed to winter
+out of England that she does not seem as if she can endure our cold."
+
+The rector shook his head, and it was days before he could overcome his
+depression. Joan needed all her cheerful spirits to make the wheels go
+round. Even Sophia was cross and grumpy.
+
+"The mistress will repent it one day, when the dear old master be taken
+from her," she said to Joan.
+
+"Hush, hush, Sophia! It is not your place to criticise my mother."
+Joan's head was held high as she spoke.
+
+Sophia gave a sniff.
+
+"'Tis like the rest of the world—'tis most of it mixed wrongly. There
+be women who don't know the value of men, and then there be men who
+make havoc of faithful women's hearts. The single are the blessed of
+the earth, as I tell M'ria. If he only knew it, the Major is courtin'
+disaster when his heart is so full of a wife."
+
+Joan was wise enough to make no reply. She occupied herself more than
+ever in the parish, and in a week or two her father had recovered his
+usual equanimity of mind, and had settled down into his customary
+groove.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+LITERARY ATTEMPTS
+
+"JOAN, will you entertain Major Armitage? Our smoke and chat have
+been interrupted, for John Veale has come up to have a talk about the
+bell-ringers."
+
+The rector ushered the Major into the drawing-room as he spoke. Joan
+was sitting by the fire, a big work-basket by her side; she was mending
+house linen with a skilful hand, but her thoughts were far-away. She
+was in a thin blue-grey gown, which became her fairness and intensified
+the deep blue of her eyes. Her thoughtful, abstracted air vanished, her
+smile and dimple appeared, as she rose to greet the guest.
+
+"I did not know you were here," she said. "I have heard voices in the
+study, and concluded it was John Veale, who was expected. I am so glad
+you have been having a chat with Father; he does so enjoy it. But he
+and I generally separate after dinner for an hour. He very often has a
+nap."
+
+"I hope I am not an interruption to you."
+
+"Indeed you are not." Joan sat down and took up her mending again. "I
+can work as well as talk."
+
+"I don't doubt that, but it was interruption of thoughts which I meant."
+
+Joan looked up at him and smiled.
+
+"They were unprofitable," she said. "The fact is, I was worrying over
+things, and I am glad to be interrupted."
+
+"And that was what brought me out and down to your organ," said the
+Major; "and after I had quieted myself, I turned in here. The rector
+has good, sound, wholesome views of life. He did me good in five
+minutes."
+
+Joan did not answer for a moment.
+
+The Major looked across at the piano, a semi-grand, belonging to Mrs.
+Adair. "May I play to you what I played in church just now?" he asked
+simply.
+
+"Oh, please. I shall like to hear it."
+
+He sat down and played Sullivan's "God shall wipe away all tears from
+their eyes."
+
+His liquid and exquisite touch, the expression and tone which he got
+from the instrument, and the sweet melody itself, brought tears of
+delight to Joan's eyes. She was emotional and impressionable where
+music was concerned, and when the last notes died away, she sat with
+misty eyes gazing into the blazing fire. Then she roused herself.
+
+"Don't stop," she said. "It is heavenly!"
+
+Major Armitage ran his fingers over the keys and began to improvise.
+From discord to harmony, from unrest to peace—that seemed the burden of
+his theme. He stopped rather abruptly at last, and came and re-seated
+himself by the fire.
+
+"Feel better?" he inquired cheerily.
+
+"Ever so much," said Joan. "How well I can understand Saul being
+soothed by music. It lifts one right outside oneself and up into
+infinity. How I wish I had your gift!"
+
+He shook his head in disapproval.
+
+"I don't think it has brought me any good. It makes one unfit to mix
+with one's fellow-creatures, and fosters unsociability and the habits
+of a recluse. And I am not the musician I ought to be. I give so much
+time to composing that I leave little time for practising."
+
+"You have published a good deal, have you not?"
+
+"Chiefly songs. I want to instil a love for melody into the present
+generation. It is despised nowadays—our grandfathers and grandmothers
+loved it—and it touches the emotions and heart like nothing else."
+
+"Yes," said Joan, thoughtfully; "I know what you mean. One hears so
+much brilliant and hard playing, such good technique, and such weird
+harmonies that music does anything but soothe; it needs all one's brain
+to understand and follow it. And, somehow or other, people are afraid
+of playing anything else. There is so little music in the average home
+now. Girls are not able to attain to the standard put before them, and
+so they refuse to play at all. Even Mozart, Beethoven, and Mendelssohn
+are out of fashion, though they will never lose their charm."
+
+Then she added in an impulsive tone: "That is what I was wishing when
+you came into the room, that I could originate—compose—not music, but
+books. My mother says it pays so well. I am half inclined to try."
+
+"There are a good many in the field," said Major Armitage, doubtfully.
+"Don't turn yourself into a writer, Miss Adair; so many want you
+in your capacity of general adviser and comforter. You will become
+like me, self-absorbed and isolated, and indifferent to your
+fellow-creatures."
+
+"Oh, why should I?"
+
+"I don't know. I suppose the creatures of one's brain are dearer to one
+than those of flesh and blood. One lives in imagination, and not in
+fact."
+
+"I don't think I could write stories," said Joan; "but I was always
+good at essay writing, and I thought of trying a few articles on
+country life and Nature. I want money badly, Major Armitage, though
+perhaps I should not say so to you. I feel I must try and earn
+something, and it is difficult when one is tied to a country village
+like this."
+
+"Have you tried your hand at poetry?"
+
+"No," said Joan, slowly; "at least, I suppose I am not an exception to
+most girls. When we are very young, we all try to be poets! But it is
+not my line."
+
+"I wish it were mine," said the Major, with a little sigh. "I get ideas
+at the piano for which I want words. I make a few bungling attempts,
+but I am not cut out for it."
+
+Joan thought of the sweet little poem she had returned, but said not a
+word.
+
+"Try your hand at writing, Miss Adair, if you want to do so. I have a
+great friend. He is editor of 'English Thoughts,' and he is very fond
+of country articles and Nature studies. If you would allow me to submit
+one of your ventures to him, he would say at once whether he could use
+it or not."
+
+"I am afraid it would be a quick refusal, but you inspire me to try,
+and I should be most grateful for the introduction." Then she added:
+"Of course, I need not say that I want my efforts to be unknown."
+
+"I will respect your confidence, but—" and here a little smile came to
+his lips—"I am not a talker, so I shall not be dangerous in that way."
+Then he said: "I have an invitation to Ireland, and I do not know that
+I ought not to accept it; but I can't leave home for another month, for
+I have work that must be finished. I have a widowed sister, with one
+child, living in the country near Donegal."
+
+"Of course, you will go?"
+
+"Yes; I am the only one who can. I have no responsibilities. My other
+brothers are all married men."
+
+They were interrupted in their talk by the rector's entrance, and soon
+afterwards Major Armitage went. But Joan found her thoughts straying
+after him. She was becoming very interested in his affairs, and mused
+upon the strange mixture that was in his composition—the dual nature of
+a dreamy and imaginative musician and a keen soldier.
+
+
+The very next day she started her first attempt at literature. Her
+father was so increasingly anxious about ways and means that she felt
+desperate. But she found it extremely difficult to get quiet time
+for writing. It was an impossibility throughout the day as she had
+incessant interruptions. But after dinner, in the evening, when her
+father retired to his study for a nap, she seized her pen and paper,
+and, sitting by the drawing-room fire, tried to produce some of the
+thoughts and impressions of her brain. It was difficult work at first.
+She wrote, and destroyed, revised, and destroyed again; and when,
+eventually, she accomplished a short article, which she entitled, "An
+Autumn Afternoon on our Heath," she was strangely dissatisfied with it.
+She was shy of mentioning it to her father, and the more she read it,
+the less she liked it. At last, plucking up her courage, she sent it
+over to Major Armitage, with the following note:
+
+ "DEAR MAJOR ARMITAGE,—I send you my first attempt. If it is too crude,
+too uninteresting and amateurish, do not send it to your friend. I will
+wait till I can do better. Is it troubling you too much to ask you to
+read it, and act according to your judgment?—Yours sincerely,—
+
+ "JOAN ADAIR."
+
+She received an answer in two hours' time:
+
+ "DEAR MISS ADAIR,—Pluck up heart! It is first-rate, and I have
+dispatched it by this evening's post. May it prosper in the hands of
+the editor.—Your sincere friend,—
+
+ "R. ARMITAGE."
+
+Joan resigned herself to patient waiting. Meanwhile fortune favoured
+her, for one morning Mrs. Blount, the doctor's wife, arrived to ask
+her advice about a governess for her two little boys. Joan promptly
+proposed herself as teacher, and Mrs. Blount was delighted. She agreed
+to send the children to the rectory every morning from nine to twelve.
+Mr. Adair made no objections, and Joan took the children into the
+dining-room, where they were busy all the morning. It was not liberal
+pay, for the doctor was not a wealthy man, but two pounds per month was
+well worth to Joan the few hours of her time, and she did not grudge
+the extra work thrown upon her shoulders in the afternoon. The boys
+were already devoted to her, and they proved docile and intelligent
+pupils.
+
+One morning Wilmot Gascoigne appeared, and was very much annoyed when
+Sophia told him that Joan was engaged and could not see him. He came
+round again about tea-time, and reproached Joan with having treated him
+so.
+
+She explained, but the frown did not leave his brow.
+
+"What waste of good material! How can you bring yourself to do it?"
+
+"I love it. They are dears. Besides, I want the money."
+
+"Oh, what a curse the—the want of money is! I should be in America now
+if it were not for that reason. And poverty is a shameful incentive to
+talent or genius. It is so degrading—the matter of pounds, shillings
+and pence!"
+
+"I don't know," said Joan, impulsively. "Poverty is an incentive to
+me—to attempt! I am trying my hand at writing."
+
+Wilmot smiled and held out his hand.
+
+"Shake hands. I always thought you would be a success in that line. May
+I see the attempt?"
+
+"Major Armitage has it—or, rather, a friend of his has it by this time,
+I hope."
+
+The disgust, as well as astonishment, depicted on Wilmot's face made
+Joan laugh.
+
+"That music crank! Well, I did think, considering our friendship and
+intercourse, that you would have come to me first for advice about a
+literary effort."
+
+"You have been away," faltered Joan.
+
+"Then could you not have written? Is it a case of being out of sight
+out of mind?"
+
+Joan hardly knew what to say.
+
+"The fact is I have too many friends," she said lightly, "and I am
+perfectly certain that this poor attempt of mine is doomed to failure.
+It is just as well that you have had nothing to do with it, Mr.
+Gascoigne."
+
+"Have you any of your writing which you could show me?" Wilmot asked
+eagerly.
+
+"I am such a beginner. I am simply doing it to get money, not from love
+of producing. I don't even know if there is anything inside me that is
+worth producing."
+
+"If there is, and I believe there is," said Wilmot, looking at her
+thoughtfully, "you and I will produce something together. I'll stay
+down here on purpose. It will be worth it."
+
+"I couldn't think of working with anyone else," said Joan, quickly.
+"Why, all my ideas would run dry at once!"
+
+"You never know what you can do till you try. You must have a copy of
+what you have sent up. Do prove yourself a friend and show it to me."
+
+Very reluctantly, Joan left the room to get her much corrected and very
+untidy MS. Wilmot frowned impatiently when she had left the room.
+
+"It's always my luck to be too late on the field. Plague take that
+dotty Major! Why on earth does he poach on my preserves! And what a
+Hebe she is! I haven't seen a woman in town who can hold a candle to
+her! She's utterly wasted in this hole. If she is to be a literary
+success—and she has no average woman's intellect—I'm determined that
+mine shall be the hand to lead her to fame, and no other!"
+
+Fate was against Wilmot at present, for Joan entered the room again
+much more hurriedly than she left it.
+
+"Oh, I am so sorry, but they have sent for me; I shall have to fly.
+Little Johnnie Craddings has scalded himself, and his mother is out for
+the day. Do you care to come down the village with me, or would you
+like a chat with my father?"
+
+"I will come with you, if you are not going to adopt motor speed."
+
+"Poor little Johnnie!" gasped Joan.
+
+She was literally running down the drive, and Wilmot Gascoigne, with a
+face as black as night, was trying to keep pace with her.
+
+He endeavoured to turn the current of her thoughts to literature again,
+but it was hopeless. Johnnie's accident engrossed Joan's mind to the
+exclusion of every other subject.
+
+He accompanied her to the door of the cottage, then took a surly
+farewell of her, and returned to the Hall, feeling furious with Major
+Armitage and with poor Johnnie.
+
+
+Joan did not see him till a fortnight later, and, meantime, she had
+the joy of hearing that her article was accepted and that others of a
+similar character could be taken.
+
+With her two small pupils and literary work in addition to her usual
+household and village duties, Joan was now more than busy, but she
+enjoyed it all; and when she handed the cheque for her first article
+to her father to help pay some of the numerous bills which were so
+distressing him, it was the happiest hour in her life.
+
+He was at first reluctant to take it. "It is yours, my dear child. Why
+should I rob you of your first earnings?"
+
+"Ah! But I am earning to help you; and, after all, Dad, dear, the bills
+are as much mine as yours. We cannot separate ourselves from our joint
+expenses."
+
+"They are mostly your mother's debts—and—and Cecil's."
+
+"Yes—well, that is what I mean. You and I are going to try to pay them
+off. They belong to our family."
+
+It was a day or two after this that Joan was invited with her father to
+dine at the Hall. It was not a dinner party; only themselves, another
+neighbouring rector (who was a bachelor), and a General and Mrs.
+Thane. There was a sister of Lady Gascoigne's staying in the house.
+Wilmot took Joan in to dinner, and talked hard about literature as a
+profession the whole time.
+
+"It is the most satisfying life on earth," he said enthusiastically.
+"Singers lose their voices, actresses their charm, when age creeps on;
+but the brain only mellows and ripens, and gains in experience with
+every added year. You are great on influence, Miss Adair. Think of the
+wide-reaching influence of the pen! No other profession can touch it in
+its infinity of power and scope."
+
+Joan felt her heart throb as she caught some of his enthusiasm. She,
+who had longed to impart knowledge and mould character, now had a
+vision of a wide and never-ending stream of influence flowing from her
+pen.
+
+Then he came to more personal details.
+
+"I read your little article, and see much promise in it. You have
+the faculty of seeing with your own eyes, and describing with quaint
+freshness your own impressions; and they are original. We do not want
+platitudes or mediocre writing in these days. There is a lack of style
+and finish which can soon be remedied. If you would allow me to look at
+your next attempt, I could show you in a moment what I mean."
+
+Joan murmured her thanks. She was grateful for the interest which
+Wilmot showed in her first effort and for the encouragement which he
+was giving her.
+
+When dinner was over, and the ladies were in the drawing-room, Banty
+came brusquely up to her.
+
+"Now, look here, don't you get too thick with Motty, for he has a way
+of preying on likely subjects who minister to his self-love and become
+his willing and devoted slaves. He took up a poor cousin of mine who
+thought she could write poetry. I believe she could have done so if he
+had left her alone, but he altered and clipped her work to suit his
+own ideas, and subjugated her mind to his, till it became a mass of
+confused pulp, and then, when her writing turned to insipid rot, he
+shrugged his shoulders and cast her from him in contempt."
+
+Joan looked at Banty in surprise. She had never heard her talk on any
+subject but hunting, and was for a moment silent.
+
+Banty gave a nervous laugh.
+
+"Yes, I can see through Motty, though he considers me on a level with
+the lower animals. 'A good old cow,' I have heard him call me. But
+cows perhaps notice more than we give them credit for. You're too good
+a sort to be crushed by him. He is mostly gas, you know! And all his
+big talk won't make me believe in him. Now, let us put him out of our
+thoughts. I want another tea amongst the pines with you."
+
+"The weather is too wet at present, isn't it?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know. I think under the trees we shan't feel it. But I
+expect you're not quite so weather-proof as I am. I'll come round to
+you. Will you be in the day after to-morrow? I'm not hunting, so I'll
+look in about four."
+
+"All right. I shall expect you then."
+
+"And now you must talk to Aunt Hetty. Ask her to play. She rather
+fancies herself as a musician. Motty says it's like a cat scrambling
+over the keys; but she attends every concert going in town, and is up
+in all the musical jargon of the day."
+
+Joan was then introduced to Miss Parracombe, who was a tall and angular
+lady, with a very large nose and a small chin.
+
+"I hear you play the organ in church?" she began at once. "I hope it is
+from choice, and not from duty, that you do it. It's a sad pity this
+is such an unmusical house. I feel like a fish out of water. I was
+hoping to meet a Major Armitage. Do you know him? They tell me he shuts
+himself up in the country. But I know friends of his in town, and, as
+a composer of a certain style, he is well-known. I asked my sister
+to have him to dinner. She says he always refuses to dine out. But I
+can quite understand that he finds no kindred soul in this house, and
+does not want to spend the precious hours of his time in uncongenial
+society. I find it a trial myself. This perpetual talk of hunting and
+sport bores me to death. Will you play to us, Miss Adair? I am sure you
+are musical."
+
+Joan shook her head, but asked Miss Parracombe if she would play
+herself, and she went to the piano with much alacrity. She began a
+fugue of Bach's, which she certainly played correctly, though without
+an atom of expression. Joan listened with interest. She had expected
+the old lady to play some of the old-fashioned "fireworks" of her young
+days.
+
+Banty yawned, and Lady Gascoigne exchanged whispered remarks with Mrs.
+Thane. It was a relief to all when the gentlemen came into the room,
+and very soon afterwards Mr. Adair and Joan took their departure.
+Wilmot accompanied them into the hall.
+
+"Will you be in on Friday afternoon?" he asked Joan.
+
+"Yes. Banty is coming to tea. Do come with her."
+
+"Dash her!" he muttered. "The next day, then?"
+
+"I am afraid I am engaged. Father and I are going over to a
+neighbouring rectory to tea."
+
+"When will you be disengaged?"
+
+His voice was coldly quiet.
+
+Joan looked up at him and laughed. "I'm a very busy person!"
+
+"So I gather. I'll drop in on Saturday evening, after dinner. I shall
+be in town to-morrow for a night. I must see you soon. I want a talk
+with you."
+
+"Very well. I shall be at home."
+
+Joan and her father drove home in their little jingle. They could not
+afford the village fly, for Joan was economising in every direction.
+She was silent for some minutes; then she said:
+
+"Do you like Mr. Gascoigne, Dad? Do you think him a reliable man? I
+always think you're a judge of character."
+
+"He does not appeal to me," said Mr. Adair, promptly. "He is a man who
+can only talk shop, and if anyone is not interested in his tastes, he
+will not trouble to make himself pleasant to them. Naturally, I prefer
+Major Armitage's society, for I know nothing of literature, especially
+of the literature that Wilmot Gascoigne likes to talk about. With
+Armitage I am at home. He doesn't discuss music, but village topics and
+politics—anything which he knows interests me."
+
+"Yes," said Joan, slowly. "I suppose Mr. Gascoigne is one-sided; but
+it is difficult to suppress the fullness of one's heart. He is so
+enthusiastic! Perhaps he may be selfish and intolerant; Banty thinks he
+is. But he carries me away when once he begins to talk."
+
+She wondered, as she lay awake that night reviewing the evening that
+was past, whether he would, as Banty said, seek to subjugate her mind
+to his, and fetter and clip her originality.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+TROUBLE AT ROLLESTON COURT
+
+BANTY arrived on Friday afternoon.
+
+"My aunt has been putting her foot in it," she informed Joan. "Would
+you believe it, she forced her way into Rolleston Court yesterday
+afternoon? She went out for a constitutional, and a shower of rain came
+on. She was told that the Major was engaged.
+
+"'Oh, never mind, I am sure he won't object to my taking shelter for a
+short time,' she said, and in she went.
+
+"His housekeeper took her into the drawing-room and entertained her for
+about half an hour. She gave her tea, and though it was getting dusk,
+Aunt Hetty wouldn't budge. She talked away to the housekeeper, and I
+expect made her giddy with her talk. I know she does me! Then she heard
+the sounds of music upstairs.
+
+"'Yes, 'tis the Major playing in the music-room,' she was told. Then
+she got up, and I can fancy her excitement.
+
+"'I am a musician myself—a fellow artiste. We are kindred spirits. I
+must hear him. He will not mind.' She stole upstairs, and listened
+outside the door at first, then boldly opened it and crept in behind
+a screen. His music was so exquisite, she told us, that she forgot
+herself and clapped her hands loudly. She said he sang a perfectly
+lovely little song about some invisible lady love, and it was that
+which bowled her over. In an instant he appeared; and she says his eyes
+flashed fire and he was white with rage. He took her by the arm and
+marched her downstairs.
+
+"'If a man cannot have privacy in his own house,' he spit out, 'where
+can he have it? I don't know who you are, nor do I care; but this is an
+unwarrantable intrusion!'
+
+"She tried to explain who she was, but he firmly and quietly ejected
+her, and she came home boiling and spluttering with rage.
+
+"I left her writing a long letter of explanation to him this afternoon.
+She seems to think her appreciation of his music is sufficient excuse
+for an impertinence on her part. What awful tempers these writers and
+musicians have! It's the artistic temperament, isn't it? That's what
+they call it. I must say I'm thankful not to possess it. It takes a
+good bit to rouse my ire; but Motty is awful to live with, and they're
+all so restless and excitable. Of course, I don't know much of Major
+Armitage, but he's queer. I expect my aunt will come down and victimise
+you pretty soon. She wants to get up a village concert. Do put her off
+it if you can. I'm morally certain Major Armitage won't appear at it,
+and you and she will have to do the whole of it."
+
+Banty paused for breath.
+
+"I'm sorry for poor Major Armitage," said Joan feelingly. "Maria told
+Sophia that he is most tenacious over his privacy. When Dad was ill in
+his house, I never saw the inside of that music-room. It is his sanctum
+in every sense of the word."
+
+"Well, don't let us talk any more about him. I'm amused at Aunt Hetty's
+set-back. Let's talk about ourselves. Only first of all, I wish you'd
+tell me why you've turned yourself into a governess. Is it from sheer
+love of teaching?"
+
+"No; want of money," said Joan frankly.
+
+"I'm sorry. Don't think me a meddler, but isn't this a fairly good
+living? I'm sure nobody could accuse you of extravagant living."
+
+"I hope not," Joan said with her happy laugh. "But we had heavy
+expenses before we came here."
+
+"How is your sister Cecil?" Banty asked abruptly. "I always think she
+ought to make a good marriage; she is just the sort that men admire.
+I think a girl who hunts hasn't the same chances as one of these
+feminine, alluring girls who give men such copious admiration. We
+become good chums with men, but no more. Only a few care for open-air
+wives—you know what I mean. You'll think I'm always talking about
+marriage, but I feel sore. I thought it well out and have sent Mr.
+Nugent about his business. I came to the conclusion I couldn't run in
+harness with him. I should jib! Yesterday I heard he is just engaged
+to Molly Lambert. She lives in the next county. So much for deep
+attachment! I expect he only wants a housekeeper, and in that case,
+Molly will suit him better than I, for she has managed her father's
+house since she was twelve years old. But he didn't lose much time, did
+he? And Mother is quietly furious. Do you think I have a miserable time
+ahead of me if I remain single?"
+
+"Of course not; but—"
+
+"Yes; give me your 'buts.' I loved your little preach some time ago. I
+think you almost made my soul—as you call it—flutter, for, do you know,
+I'm beginning to believe I have one."
+
+"I can only repeat what I said before, that there is one side of us—and
+the only side that can bring us lasting happiness—which needs to be
+cultivated."
+
+"The religious side, I suppose you mean? If church doesn't cultivate
+it, what will? And I'm a most regular attendant at church, let me tell
+you. But it has never made the least difference to me."
+
+"You want to be in touch with God Himself," said Joan softly.
+
+Banty leant back in her chair and stared at her perfectly
+uncomprehendingly.
+
+"That wouldn't make 'me' happy," she said with conviction, "quite the
+reverse. Now I'll be quite honest with you. There's nothing in me that
+responds in the least bit to religion. I don't see the need for it. I
+don't want to live my life up in the clouds. This world is good enough
+for me."
+
+There was silence. Banty frowned, then said:
+
+"I've got enough, thanks, for to-day."
+
+Joan smiled, then laid her hand caressingly on her arm.
+
+"I shall end by getting very fond of you, Banty."
+
+The colour actually deepened in Banty's cheek.
+
+"Same with me," she said a little gruffly.
+
+They talked of other things then, and when Mr. Adair came in, Banty
+lapsed into her usual abrupt and rather dull style of talk. Before she
+went, she said to Joan, in the hall:
+
+"I'm getting interested in you. I'm planning out your future."
+
+"As you wish it to be, or as you think it will be?"
+
+"As I wish it. I mean to frustrate one possible future for you if I
+can."
+
+She gave her a nod, and went without another word.
+
+Joan gazed after her with a smile and a sigh.
+
+"There are depths in her after all. What bunglers we are!"
+
+
+Wilmot Gascoigne did not forget to appear on Saturday night. He sat
+over the fire with Joan and fascinated her with his talk. Just before
+he left, he said:
+
+"I have left the main object of my visit till now. I feel that you and
+I have the same intuition about certain phases of life. For a long
+time I have been anxious to write a book which will do more than amuse
+the public—that kind of novel has a run for a year, then disappears
+as quickly as it came. I want to write for futurity. Now, my theory
+is that a woman writer can never write naturally and effectively
+about a man in all his various stages, nor can a man gauge a woman's
+fluctuating moods correctly, for each can only judge of the minds of
+the opposite sex by what they see and hear, never from the fount of
+their own experience. I want to instruct and to awaken the dormant
+intellects of my readers. To do this, the book must be strong; it
+must have no weak points; it must not flag in interest; it must
+stimulate the curiosity, and, in short, I need a woman collaborator.
+Now, will you be that woman? Down in this quiet hole, we shall have
+plenty of time and opportunity for discussion and suggestions. I have
+already simmering in my mind a dozen plots. I want a woman's delicate
+intuition, her feminine instinct, to help me in evolving a creation
+of what a woman should be in our present generation. I don't want to
+create one of the shrieking sisterhood—a mockery of all that is truly
+feminine and uplifting—nor do I want a flimsy, insipid Early Victorian
+doll. I know you are the one woman in the world who can help me at this
+juncture—will you do it?"
+
+"It is rather a startling proposition," said Joan, with a long-drawn
+breath. "I suppose I ought to feel flattered. I do. I thank you for
+thinking of me. Writing is so new to me that I feel like a duckling on
+the edge of a pond trying for the first time the element of water. But
+I am afraid I shall have no time. I can hardly get through my days as
+it is. And how about you? Are you nearly through your Chronicles? Won't
+they have to be finished first?"
+
+Wilmot gave a little snort.
+
+"They'll never be finished," he said. "I'm already bored to tears with
+them. There's nothing in the dull, monotonous lives of the Gascoignes
+to make the book live. It will be a series of births, marriages, and
+deaths, and of dates. I would like to make a bonfire of the whole."
+
+"Why don't you finish them up?"
+
+"Because I'm always hoping to rake out something racy from the piles
+of dusty manuscripts and letters I have given to me. They won't let
+me invent. It would be easy sailing then. I tell you the Gascoigne
+Chronicles are dulling my powers and fettering my genius. You can't
+live for ever on dry bread. I want to sandwich my book in; it will be
+jam and butter to me!"
+
+Joan laughed. She felt strangely stirred. Wilmot's society was
+delightful to her. He talked of books and of subjects of which she had
+heard and talked at college. He had theories on every fact of life, and
+opened vistas of new thought and conjecture to her. She longed to throw
+herself heart and soul into this project of collaboration with him, but
+she felt, under her circumstances, that it would prove too engrossing
+an occupation.
+
+"You must give me time to think about it," she said. "I will give you
+an answer in a few days, but I doubt if I could really help you."
+
+"I shall not allow you to refuse me," he said, with one of the smiles
+that always transfigured his face.
+
+But when he had gone Banty's words recurred to her: "He has a way of
+preying on likely subjects who minister to his self-love and become his
+willing and devoted slaves."
+
+They made her feel a little uncomfortable, and then she resolutely put
+them from her.
+
+"Banty and he are at daggers drawn. She is unfair to him. I will not
+believe that she is right in such a statement."
+
+
+Sunday came. It was a busy and a happy day with Joan. She loved her
+Sunday scholars, she loved her choir, and the music she produced from
+the sweet little organ. The services were always a rest and refreshment
+to her. Major Armitage came into the rectory after evening church and
+stayed to supper.
+
+"I suppose you have heard of my iniquities?" he said to Joan. "I expect
+the Hall will be cuts with me now."
+
+"No, I think they must all have felt that Miss Parracombe was to blame."
+
+"Ah! You have heard about it, then? I lost my temper and manners, and
+showed her the door. But I have always believed that an Englishman's
+house is his castle. They say I have a bee in my bonnet. I will
+entertain ladies one day—at least, that is my hope—but never until I
+have one of their sex to help me do it."
+
+The shadow fell upon his face.
+
+Joan was silent for a minute; then she said gently:
+
+"Miss Parracombe is a musician; she longs to meet you."
+
+"Oh, yes, I know; and I don't like musicians, Miss Adair. Isn't that a
+bad confession? I have suffered from them in town, and I cannot take
+part in their ready jargon. It is the clash of sounding brass to me; I
+would rather shut my ears to it. Don't you think we all talk too much?"
+
+"I don't know," said Joan a little wistfully. "I learn a good deal from
+other people's talk; and is not exchange of ideas always good?"
+
+The hard, set lines about his face disappeared. He smiled.
+
+"I like to talk to you," he said simply. "Well, Miss Parracombe has
+sent me a voluminous explanation and apology, and I a very short and
+curt one. She insisted upon shaking hands with me after church this
+morning, and I have again been invited to the Hall—to lunch, to tea,
+or to dinner. I have declined politely, and that is where we stand at
+present. How is the writing getting on?"
+
+"I want to see myself in print," said Joan, laughing and colouring.
+"When do you think my article will appear?"
+
+"Any time between this and next Christmas, I should say. Have you been
+paid for it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Oh, you'll see it soon."
+
+"I have written a few more on the same lines, and two have been
+accepted, one returned. The editor tells me not to go ahead too fast."
+
+"Why does he return one?"
+
+"He said it had too much of a religious element in it."
+
+Joan's face was very grave as she spoke; then she turned towards him
+and her gaze was sweet and earnest.
+
+"Major Armitage, if I cannot write about what is breath and life to me,
+I will not write at all."
+
+"What is your object in writing?" he asked slowly.
+
+"To make money, I am afraid."
+
+"Then you must be guided by the taste of the public and the advice of
+your editor."
+
+Joan's brows were furrowed with deep thought.
+
+"I hear you sing in church," said Major Armitage; "will you sing to me
+now?"
+
+She was rather glad to have a change of subject.
+
+"I haven't much of a voice," she said, "but I will do my best."
+
+"Will you sing 'O rest in the Lord.' I will play for you."
+
+They went to the piano.
+
+Joan's voice was true and very sweet; it had a pathetic ring in it
+which often brought tears to the eyes of those who heard her. The Major
+drew a long sigh when he had struck the last chord. Mr. Adair, who was
+always very tired on Sunday night, and who had been napping in his
+arm-chair whilst the talk had been going on, now roused himself to say:
+
+"That is beautiful, my dear Joan. Will you sing the evening hymn
+now?—'Abide with me.'"
+
+Major Armitage knew at once which setting it was, and ran his fingers
+over the keys.
+
+When she had finished, he rose from his seat and held out his hand.
+
+"I want that to be the last thing I hear," he said, smiling at her. "It
+will ring in my head as I walk home."
+
+When he had gone, Joan sat down by the fire and relapsed into deep
+thought. If her voice was still in his ears, so was his in hers. "You
+must be guided by the taste of the public if you wish to make money."
+
+"What do I wish?" she said to herself. "If I can write, how awfully
+responsible I am for what I write. I could make money, I suppose, in
+lots of ways that would be neither honourable nor consistent with my
+principles. Shall I throw my principles to the winds for the sake of
+money? I cannot. And yet, when I think of lifting the strain from
+Father's shoulders, of easing him of this dreadful wearing anxiety, I
+feel as if I must throw everything to the winds and do it."
+
+
+A few days after this, Sophia called Joan into the kitchen in a
+mysterious way. It was six o'clock, and Joan at first thought that
+something had gone wrong with their simple dinner. But Sophia pulled
+the low arm-chair out for Joan to sit upon, and she knew then that a
+talk was forthcoming.
+
+"You want a gossip, Sophia, I know you do; but it's a funny time to
+choose."
+
+"Miss Joan, I never neglect my work. The steak pie is in the oven, and
+my pudding is in the steamer. My vegetables are ready to pop into the
+saucepans. I've sent Jenny upstairs to make herself tidy. There never
+was such a tousled, fuzzy head as hers in all the world before. M'ria
+has been to tea with me. She's in a sad way, M'ria is, for she says a
+body must get attached to the Major, with all his cranks. I told her he
+was here on the Sunday night, and he went off with such a cheery word
+to me as I held open the door!
+
+"'Good-night,' he said; 'this house always seems like the gate of
+Heaven to me. The atmosphere and harmony and music to-night have put
+fresh life and hope into me.' Now, those were his very words—his very
+last words."
+
+"Why, Sophia," cried Joan in a startled voice, "what has happened? Has
+Maria brought you bad news of her master?"
+
+"Very bad, Miss Joan. Now, listen. Yesterday, at four o'clock, the
+second post came in. M'ria generally takes the letters and puts them on
+the table in the smoking-room. The Major sees them there directly he
+comes in. As it happened, yesterday he hadn't gone out; he was writing
+business letters. M'ria knows it was business, for he called her to
+ask about some new kind of lamps they had had down from town for the
+kitchens, and he told her he was going to pay for them."
+
+"Oh, Sophia, do get on. I don't care to know about the Major's
+business."
+
+"Now, don't you fluster me. Of course, as I said to M'ria, it's just
+a sign of the modern times, when folks write bad news without taking
+the trouble to put it into a becoming black-edged envelope. They won't
+reckernise affliction; 'tis just that; they won't pay respect to the
+dead, because it makes them feel bad; and tears and becoming grief and
+seclusion is all things of the past. Even widows—"
+
+"Sophia, you're doing it on purpose! Leave the widows alone and get on
+with your story."
+
+"Well, Miss Joan, M'ria she handed the letters to the Major without a
+thought, and then, as the curtains weren't drawn, she went across to
+the windows and occupied herself with them; and she threw, so to speak,
+a look over her shoulder, for she heard him draw a very heavy breath.
+M'ria says she never saw a living man before turn into stone. His face
+was white and blue and fixed. He held a letter and gazed at the air as
+if—well, M'ria says it came to her in a flash that Lot's wife must have
+looked like it when she was turned into salt. She was so scared, M'ria
+was, that she crept out of the room and left him standing there. She
+daren't go near him; but she heard him go straight upstairs and lock
+himself up in the music-room.
+
+"When dinner-time came he didn't come out, and then M'ria got nervous
+and went to the door and knocked. You do hear of such dreadful things,
+Miss Joan, and, of course, she was fearing the very worst. But he
+answered her quick and sharp:
+
+"'I want no dinner, and no disturbance,' he said, or words similar.
+
+"M'ria goes away, and she said her knees were trembling all the
+evening. The house was silent as a grave. And then, about ten o'clock,
+when the other maids had gone off to bed, to M'ria's great relief she
+heard the piano playing in the music-room. She slipped upstairs to
+listen, for she hoped now he'd got to his music he'd be feeling better;
+and she was keeping a basin of soup hot against the time when he came
+out. And what do you think he was playing, Miss Joan? M'ria said in the
+empty, silent house it gave her the curdles all over. Nothing but that
+awful rumbling funeral march for the dead!"
+
+Joan could say nothing. She only gazed at Sophia in silence.
+
+"Well, M'ria waited, all of a shiver, for him to stop; and when he
+stopped there was silence, and still M'ria waited. And then at last,
+the Major came out, and he walked straight for the stairs. Then she
+made bold to speak.
+
+"'Please, sir,' she began, but he stopped her with a little wave of his
+hand.
+
+"'Don't speak to me,' he said; 'I've been burying my dead.'
+
+"With that, he goes straight up the stairs and locks himself in his
+room, and M'ria said she was so overcome with tears, she just had to go
+back to the kitchen and drink up the hot soup herself."
+
+Joan was too miserable to smile.
+
+"Poor Major Armitage! I hope no very near relation has died."
+
+Sophia shook her head gloomily and mysteriously. "There's no mistake,
+Miss Joan, in who it was. This morning, M'ria says, he's pulled down
+the blinds of the boudoir and locked and bolted the door, and told
+M'ria that nobody is ever to go near that room again. M'ria says he's
+like a tomb, stony and dead like. It's his lady which is dead, sure
+enough. In fact, he kind of apologised for wasting a good dinner last
+night. He said to M'ria:
+
+"'I had had bad news, and I couldn't eat.'
+
+"Then M'ria asked, gentle like, if the household were to be in
+mourning; and he looked at her as if he didn't understand her meaning.
+But his look so awed her that she daren't say one word more, and that's
+how it stands with him. I thought you'd be interested. I feel full up
+of it myself."
+
+"But Maria and you will keep this to yourselves?" said Joan, almost
+imploringly. "You won't let the village gossip over it?"
+
+"Miss Joan, M'ria and me know our duty towards them we serves," said
+Sophia loftily.
+
+And then Joan slipped quietly away.
+
+Her heart ached for the lonely man; she almost felt as if his grief
+were hers.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+A FATEFUL TELEGRAM
+
+"YOU cannot walk so far."
+
+"Indeed I can. It is only four miles there. I shall rest when I get
+there, and have my lunch and walk back. It is nothing for a strong and
+hearty female like myself."
+
+"I hope Toby is not really ill?"
+
+"No; it's only a slight swelling on his hock. He is being bandaged, and
+only wants a few days' rest. Don't worry, dear. I must see this woman.
+I have promised her husband I will, and if I cannot drive, I must walk.
+It's a lovely afternoon. I shall enjoy it."
+
+Joan and her father were talking together at lunch. She was taking
+advantage of a birthday holiday given to her small pupils to go to see
+one of the parishioners who had been taken to the infirmary in the
+neighbouring market town; and owing to the indisposition of the pony
+she could not use the little jingle.
+
+"You could hire a trap from the inn," her father suggested.
+
+Joan shook her head.
+
+"That would be reckless expense. Have your tea, for I shall be late, as
+I have a good deal of shopping to get through; but I am perfectly equal
+to the walk."
+
+She started in good spirits, taking Bob, her little terrier, with
+her. Spring was in the air; there was blue sky and bright sun shining
+overhead. She crossed the heath, and the fresh, pungent scent of the
+pines and peat refreshed and delighted her. Joan often said she could
+walk her worries away, and to-day was no exception to the rule. She did
+not feel tired when she arrived in Coppleton. She saw the sick woman,
+did her shopping, and had her lunch at a small confectioner's.
+
+Then, at three o'clock, she started homewards. The blue sky was gone
+now, and heavy black clouds were rolling up. Joan began to wish she had
+brought an umbrella. Before she had gone a mile from the town, rain
+descended in torrents. It was a lonely road, and there was no shelter
+of any sort near. She buttoned her coat up to her chin and pressed
+steadily on; but wind and rain beat her back, and she began to feel
+quite exhausted. Suddenly she heard quick-trotting hoofs behind her,
+and a high dog-cart overtook her. She glanced up and saw it was Major
+Armitage. He did not seem to see her; his face was stern and set, and
+he was about to pass her, when in desperation she called to him. He
+pulled up at once.
+
+"Oh! It's you, Miss Adair, what are you doing out in this storm so far
+from home? I can offer you a seat, but not an umbrella, I'm afraid."
+
+"Thank you. I shall be delighted to get a lift."
+
+She climbed in and told him where she had been. She had not seen him
+since Sophia had told her what had happened, and as she glanced up at
+him she saw a great change in his face. The dreamy wistfulness had
+departed; his profile might have been carved in granite, so stern and
+immovable it was.
+
+He was very silent, and so was she, for a few minutes. Then she said:
+
+"You promised to play at our evening service last Sunday, but as you
+did not turn up, I suppose something prevented your doing so?"
+
+He looked down at her quickly.
+
+"I did not know I had. My promise must have been made in another life.
+I seem in a new era now. I'm sorry if I inconvenienced you; but the
+fact is I cancelled all my engagements. I—I have been through a—a good
+deal since I saw you last."
+
+"I am so sorry. I am afraid you have been in trouble."
+
+There was another silence. Then he gave a short laugh.
+
+"My house has asserted itself. I was a fool to think I could break the
+long chain of ill-luck. I am thinking of shutting it up and going over
+to Ireland."
+
+"So soon? We shall be sorry to lose you."
+
+"It isn't that I run away from it," he went on slowly; "but it will
+never fulfil its purpose to me now, and so it is useless to me."
+
+"But your tenants will miss you."
+
+"Oh, no, they will not; my bailiff will look after them."
+
+Joan hardly knew what to say.
+
+"I have been living at the gate of paradise," he continued, "expecting
+and glorying in the hope that it would soon be opened to me. I have
+been shown that it will always remain bolted and barred to me. I
+have been wasting my life, my time and thoughts, Miss Adair, over an
+illusion. Yet some words you uttered once have continually come to
+my mind: 'He performeth the thing that is appointed for me.' Do you
+believe it?"
+
+"In my own experience I try to do so," said Joan thoughtfully.
+
+Major Armitage said no more for some time. The rain and wind beat in
+their faces and made conversation difficult. But when they came into
+Old Bellerton village, Joan spoke:
+
+"I am very grateful to you for driving me home, and, if I may say so,
+still more for what you have told me. I am sure none of us ought to
+believe in ill-luck, and you are strong enough to rise above it."
+
+"No, I am not," said Major Armitage; "but I suppose I can live doggedly
+on. Do you know Dr. Sewell's couplet?
+
+ "'When all the blandishments of life are gone,
+ The coward sneaks to death; the brave live on.'"
+
+Joan's eyes brightened.
+
+"I like that. And life is a wonderful thing, is it not? Our own lives
+are so small compared with many others; it is the lives of those around
+us that really matter, and what we can be to them."
+
+"You think we ought to be entirely detached from ourselves? That would
+make us mere mechanical machines."
+
+She was silent. Then, as he reached the rectory gate, he pulled up his
+horse and held out his hand to her.
+
+"Good-night, Miss Adair. You have done me good, and I promise to play
+for you next Sunday evening. I shan't be leaving just yet. But I tell
+you in confidence that my house now is an utter despair to me!"
+
+She looked up at him when she was turning in at the gate. Her eyes were
+shining.
+
+"'He performeth the thing that is appointed for me,'" she repeated with
+emphasis.
+
+And then the Major drove off and she went in to change her wet clothes,
+and to think much of the blow that had befallen her friend.
+
+
+Before the following Sunday came round, she had a great many other
+matters that demanded all her time and attention. Wilmot Gascoigne had
+cajoled her into co-operating with him over his book, and she found it
+extremely difficult to give up the necessary time to it. She finally
+arranged that upon every day on which he could come over, they should
+work together between tea and dinner. Very often he asked if he might
+stay to dinner, so as to continue the work immediately afterwards, and
+not "break the thread" of their thoughts.
+
+Joan was so carried away with his enthusiasm, with his flow of ideas,
+with his many problems needing deep discussion, that for some days
+she was merely a listener, offering a few feeble and inadequate
+suggestions; but as time went on she began to criticise, protest, and
+utterly disagree with Wilmot's plot and principles. To her, his moral
+instincts seemed warped; his conceptions of right and wrong confusing
+and shadowy. But he had the gift of eloquent persuasion, and often
+stopped her objections with a torrent of clever talk. Then he would
+listen to her alternative course of reasoning, sometimes apparently
+falling in with her views, but never eventually swerving from his point.
+
+She, on her part, gave him fresh ideas and thoughts, which he seized
+with approval. But after a very few days of talking and working with
+him, Joan had to acknowledge to herself that it was most fatiguing and
+unsatisfactory. In addition to this, her father's affairs seemed more
+and more involved. Letters came from his wife and daughter with demands
+for money, which was simply not forthcoming. Every penny that could
+be scraped together was sent out to them; but it was not sufficient,
+and Mrs. Adair could not, or would not, understand her husband's
+difficulties. Joan and her father grew to dread the sight of a foreign
+letter lying on the breakfast-table.
+
+Joan at last quietly went into Coppleton and parted with an old
+necklace of amethysts which had been given to her some years before by
+Lady Alicia. But the task of cheering her father, teaching her small
+pupils, working in the parish, helping in household duties, and trying
+to keep her head and brains clear and bright for Wilmot's hours, proved
+almost too much for her, and she found it quite impossible to continue
+her own writing. She had neither the time nor the ideas. She told
+Wilmot once that she had been forced to stop writing. He did not seem
+much impressed.
+
+"Those short articles don't pay well, do they? And I want you to do
+better work. You will. This book of ours is going to be a success. I
+feel it is. We have got the right atmosphere, but it needs all our
+concentration and purpose. We will put our best and strongest into it.
+We must."
+
+So Joan braced herself afresh, but she felt strangely exhausted at
+night; and could not feel assured that her help was as much as Wilmot
+seemed to require and demand.
+
+
+On Sunday evening Major Armitage played the organ, and came into supper
+at the rectory afterwards. Joan thought him looking worn and ill, and
+there were grim fixed lines about his face that used not to be there.
+He seemed very distrait, as if conversation were an effort. Only once
+he roused himself, and that was when he asked Joan to sing some of her
+sacred songs. Mr. Adair remarked when he left that he must be in some
+kind of trouble.
+
+"Of course, they say in the village he has lost someone dear to him. Do
+you know anything about it, Joan? He has not gone into mourning."
+
+"Men don't," said Joan briefly.
+
+"They usually wear a black tie, not a coloured one."
+
+"We won't trouble about the village gossip, Father dear. If he had
+wanted us to know, he would have told us."
+
+But the very next day, Joan wrote to Lady Alicia asking her if she
+could tell her whether Irene Denbury was dead.
+
+Lady Alicia wrote promptly back.
+
+ "MY DEAREST JOAN,—So you have not heard the news! Frank Denbury turned
+up after all these years perfectly safe and sound. It is like a book.
+I hear he is much improved; but he was wounded and ill, and tied by
+the leg in some out-of-the-way place, and his letters never reached
+home. You must forget the story I told you. Bury it deep. But how wise
+and right Irene was to wait! What disaster she would have brought upon
+herself if she had not. She goes out with him to America the end of
+this month. She seems as if she wants to get away from England, and I
+think it will be best for her. I am so interested in hearing about your
+writing, dear, but don't forget that it is a trust and talent given to
+you to develop and to use for eternity. I have heard from your mother.
+She seems very happy and well. Much love,—
+
+ "Yours lovingly,
+
+ "ALICIA.
+
+ "P.S.—Frank Denbury has quietly been adding to his fortune. I fancy his
+wife might have been in the way; and, of course, he had no idea that
+she thought him dead. But I consider him much to blame for his long
+silence. It was not fair to any girl."
+
+Joan pondered long and deeply over this letter. She felt unreasonably
+angry with Irene for having inspired Major Armitage with such love and
+hope.
+
+"If she really loves him, how can she go off with her husband so easily
+and happily? I couldn't have done it. And yet I suppose religion and
+convention would say it was her duty to do so. She will most likely
+settle down very comfortably with her husband, and forget the man who
+is suffering tortures at present, and will never get over the blow."
+
+She pictured him in his music-room playing the "Dead March" and burying
+deep for ever in the grave of his heart his first and only love.
+
+"A man of that age and temperament will never get over it," she said
+to herself. "I wonder if he has enough religion to keep him sweet and
+tender! His music is still his solace. I'm glad to think it is, for no
+musician can get bitter and hard."
+
+Lady Alicia's letter gave her food for thought, and doubts again
+assailed her as to whether Wilmot's book was a suitable one for her
+to help to produce. When next he and she were working together he
+propounded a certain situation from which her soul shrank.
+
+"No, that is blasphemous," she said hastily. "I will not be a party to
+it."
+
+"My dear girl, don't be a prude. What is blasphemy? We must move with
+the times, and we are not invoking the Deity in any way, or infringing
+upon His prerogative."
+
+Joan looked at him with grave, sweet eyes.
+
+"Mr. Gascoigne, you and I can never work together. I see this more and
+more. It was a mistake our making the attempt."
+
+"I have frightened you. We will leave this situation. I will work it
+in so that it cannot possibly offend your principles. My dear partner,
+we have gone along too far to dissolve our partnership. Now take these
+sheets, and make a statement of our heroine's thoughts on this fatal
+night. Put your soul into it, and let your words scorch and burn. Be
+strong. Put yourself in her place, and write your thoughts as they
+would have been in her circumstances."
+
+Joan gave a little sigh, but set to work; and the interest of her theme
+took hold of and engrossed her. Afterwards, when Wilmot was taking his
+leave, she strove to speak again.
+
+"I don't agree with so much that you write. We shall never see things
+from the same standpoint. Don't you think you would get on quite as
+well without me?"
+
+"No, I am not going to release you. Do you think I would take the
+trouble to come out all weathers and spend the best part of my day down
+here if I did not mean business? And think of the chance you would
+miss. Fame is in this book—I feel it—and money, and you and I will be
+partners in it."
+
+It was always the way. He would not take her objections seriously, and
+Joan's conscience was uneasy and troubled in consequence.
+
+Banty could not understand the situation. She remonstrated with Joan
+one afternoon when she called.
+
+"I warned you of Motty. He has got hold of you, and will suck your
+blood to nourish himself. Don't look shocked! I mean it. He has done it
+with other women, and he thinks you very promising material."
+
+Joan would not listen to her; but in her heart she sometimes longed
+that she had never given him her promise to help him.
+
+And then one day it was all stopped—for the time.
+
+
+"A letter from Cecil," said Joan in the morning, as she poured out a
+cup of tea for her father at the breakfast-table. "I have not read it
+yet. I hope it is not for more money. She wrote to me only a few days
+ago."
+
+"It is to tell us when they are coming home, perhaps," said Mr. Adair
+cheerfully. "I am setting my hopes on having your mother here for
+Easter, Joan."
+
+"But, Father dear, it wants only a fortnight to Easter, and they have
+not talked of a move yet."
+
+"Read her letter and see."
+
+So Joan in a leisurely way opened the envelope, and the next minute
+looked up with startled eyes.
+
+"Father dear, Mother is not at all well. She has caught a bad chill and
+has an attack of pneumonia. Cecil is quite anxious and has called in a
+nurse."
+
+Mr. Adair started to his feet.
+
+"Let me see what she says. Cecilia ill? I must go to her."
+
+Joan put the letter into his hand, and gazed out of the window with
+troubled eyes. Riviera doctors and nurses meant heavy additional
+expenses. How were they to be met, she wondered? And then she took
+herself to task for grudging her mother anything. Was she really
+seriously ill? Cecil seemed to think so, and Mrs. Adair was not one
+to succumb easily. She had always had good health, and made light of
+ordinary ailments. But this letter was three days old, surely if she
+had been worse, Cecil would have wired?
+
+As if in answer to her conjecture, she saw a village lad come up the
+drive, and recognising him as the postmistress's son, Joan dashed out
+into the garden.
+
+When he produced a yellow envelope, her heart sank. She tore it open.
+
+ "Mother died last night. Come at once.—CECIL."
+
+She could not believe it. She dismissed the boy and took the telegram
+with trembling fingers to her father. She hardly knew how she told him,
+but from her face he guessed the worst. And sinking down upon a chair,
+he buried his face in his hands. Joan stood by his side white and
+immovable. The awful shock of it had stunned her. Presently heartbroken
+sobs came from her father. To Joan, who had never in her life seen her
+father shed a tear, it was an awful experience. She touched him on the
+shoulder.
+
+"Dad, dear, we must do something. There is no time to lose."
+
+"Time!" sobbed the rector. "What does time matter now? Everything is at
+an end for me."
+
+The intense pathos of his tone brought the tears with a rush to Joan's
+eyes. She let herself weep unrestrainedly for some moments, and Sophia
+found them both unable to regain their composure. She herself was
+terribly shocked, but said in her practical way:
+
+"There's Miss Cecil to be thought of."
+
+Joan dried her tears at once. Her self-control was restored to her.
+
+"Dad dear, what must be done?"
+
+The rector lifted his head.
+
+"I must go to them."
+
+Even now he could not separate Cecil from her mother.
+
+"Can I catch the morning train to town?"
+
+He stood up. Like his daughter, he put his grief aside for the time.
+
+"I must go at once," he repeated dully.
+
+"You can catch the twelve-twenty. But what about money?"
+
+Mr. Adair looked at her rather helplessly.
+
+"How much shall I want?"
+
+"You can cash a cheque at the bank before you start. We have twenty
+pounds in our current account. Take it all. I suppose I cannot come
+with you? I know I can't."
+
+Joan was now perfectly composed. She packed his things, looked up his
+route in the foreign Bradshaw, listened to his directions for supplying
+his place on the following Sunday, then went out and ordered the jingle
+to be brought round. She drove him to the station, and it was not till
+he was actually in the railway carriage that father and daughter had
+courage to look into each other's eyes.
+
+Mr. Adair's composure almost went again. "My darling wife," he
+murmured; "oh, Joan, pray that resignation to God will may be given to
+me."
+
+Joan nodded.
+
+"I can't yet take it in," she said brokenly; "I feel almost stunned,
+but I know that God will be with you and comfort you, Father dear."
+
+The train went out, and Joan drove slowly home, trying to bring her
+practical common sense to the surface, but all her heart crying out for
+her brilliant, beautiful mother. Perhaps it was fortunate that she had
+so much to do and think about.
+
+
+For the next day or two she had not a moment for quiet thought until
+she went to bed. She had many anxious fears about her father, who
+had never in his life been abroad, and who was apt to be rather
+absentminded in travelling. But a wire announcing his safe arrival, on
+the second morning after his departure, eased her mind. She had many
+notes of condolence and of sympathy, but saw only one of her friends,
+and that was Major Armitage. He called one morning and told Sophia he
+was going away that day. Joan came down into her father's study to see
+him.
+
+"I felt I must wish you good-bye," he said, "and tell you that you have
+my deep sympathy in your loss. I am going over to Ireland to be with
+my sister, and have shut up the house for the present, but I shall not
+easily forget the warm welcome I have received in this house."
+
+"Oh," said Joan, looking up at him with misty eyes, "my father and I
+will miss you! We have learnt to count upon you as a friend. Will you
+never come back to this part again?"
+
+"I was going to say I hope not," he said gravely; "but I will add, not
+to the ill-fated house I inherited. Every room is a torture to me now.
+I never told you, Miss Adair, but I expect you guessed. I came down
+here to wait patiently for a woman to come to me, and now that is over.
+She will never come. And I have been wasting my time in useless dreams.
+Now, as you said the other day, my life is going to revolve round
+others. It has no centre in itself. And I think my sister needs me
+most. Perhaps we may come to England one day, but till then, good-bye."
+
+He held out his hand. Joan took it, and felt tongue-tied for a moment
+or two, then she said softly:
+
+"Thank you for giving me your confidence. I knew you had been going
+through deep waters, but when you say your life has no centre, you do
+not mean to leave out the One who is our centre? The One in Whom 'we
+move, and have our being.'"
+
+He looked at her with sombre eyes.
+
+"I have believed all my life in the Hand behind," he said; "I suppose I
+still believe in it."
+
+He shook hands and went. Joan watched him disappear down the road from
+the study window.
+
+"And so he goes away out of my life," she murmured to herself. "The
+only one I have really liked in this part of the world."
+
+She gave a heavy sigh. Life was inexpressibly sad, and it seemed to her
+to get more and more difficult as time slipped by.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+STRUGGLING IN THE NET
+
+A WEEK later Mr. Adair returned, bringing Cecil with him. The meeting
+between the sisters was a very sad one. Cecil for the first time
+had been brought face to face with life's greatest reality. All her
+gaiety had left her for the time; she looked scared and miserable.
+And Mr. Adair seemed ten years older, the stoop in his shoulders was
+intensified, and his whole demeanour was listless and dejected. Yet
+he gave Joan quite simply every detail of the quiet funeral amongst
+the olive trees in the little English cemetery. And with many sobs and
+tears Cecil told her of the sudden illness and the last four days.
+
+"She stayed out too late one evening and caught a chill; but never told
+me that she felt much pain until the next day, and then her temperature
+went up suddenly, and she hardly knew me again. The only thing she was
+anxious about was the book she has been writing. She told me to take it
+back to England with me. She seemed to know she would not come herself.
+It seems like a nightmare. How shall I live without her?"
+
+Even in her grief, Cecil thought first of herself; Joan's greatest
+sympathy was with her father. She went into his study late that evening
+and found him sitting at his writing-table, his head bowed in his
+hands. When he looked up at her, his eyes were dim and lifeless.
+
+"Oh, Joan, my dear, we must comfort each other," he said, as she
+impulsively knelt by his side and put her hand lovingly on his
+shoulder. "The centre of my being seems to have disappeared. I have
+been counting the days to having her back again with us. The coming
+summer has only held her to me. I hoped she would love sitting out in
+the garden and orchard, and become so fond of it here that she would
+never want to leave us again. And I feel I have not been half tender
+and sympathetic enough with her. I have kept her short of money, though
+God knows I could not help it. It is so strange that she, so beautiful,
+so strong, and in the prime of her life, should be taken and I left!"
+
+"We could not do without you, Father dear," murmured Joan, tears
+starting to her eyes in spite of her efforts to keep them back.
+
+"She always was so much more clever than I was," went on Mr. Adair;
+"but I loved to have her so. And your mother was a good woman, Joan.
+She never talked much, but she never missed her daily Bible reading,
+and I have found her Bible marked and worn from constant reading."
+
+"Yes," Joan assented softly.
+
+"So we have the hope of seeing her again," went on Mr. Adair in a more
+cheerful tone; "but the blank will never be filled in my heart. Pray
+for me to-morrow, Joan. I must preach, and I feel unfit for it."
+
+"Don't try, Father dear, let Mr. Rushbrooke come over and take the
+services for you, as he did when you were away."
+
+Mr. Adair shook his head, and as he looked at Joan, there was something
+in his attitude that made Joan steal away and leave him.
+
+And the message was given with singular power on the following morning.
+
+"'For He maketh sore, and bindeth up; He woundeth, and His hands make
+whole.'"
+
+The rector touched very little upon his own trouble, except to say: "I
+have been through deep waters, and I want to pass on to you what has
+been a comfort and help to myself."
+
+His people listened with softened hearts; and even Banty went home
+saying to herself, "There must be 'something' in Mr. Adair's religion!"
+
+Cecil would not go to church. She shut herself up in her room and
+stayed in bed for most of the day.
+
+
+On Monday, as she did not come down to breakfast, Joan went up to her.
+She found her very busy ordering herself mourning from a Bond Street
+dressmaker whom her mother had patronised. Joan's little pupils were
+waiting for her; so she thought that it was no propitious time for
+discussion, and she only tried to persuade her to come down to lunch.
+
+Cecil allowed herself to be persuaded, and after it was over wandered
+into the drawing-room disconsolately. Joan followed her. She felt if
+she did not speak now, she never should, and wanted to get it over.
+
+"What has possessed you to have those noisy spoilt boys here
+every morning?" said Cecil crossly. "I hear you teach them in the
+dining-room, and Sophia calmly told me the drawing-room fire was never
+lighted till after lunch. You complain that I shut myself up in my
+bedroom, but where am I supposed to sit?"
+
+"There's always a fire in Father's study, and he is usually out in
+the morning. I want to talk with you about ways and means, Cecil. I
+have had to do some teaching. I am most grateful for the money it
+brings me. You know we are not yet clear of debt. And Father and I do
+dislike it so. I always think a clergyman ought to be extra careful
+in money matters. I think I mentioned in my letters that I have been
+writing a few simple articles for a magazine. I have a little literary
+experience. I want you to let me see mother's book. Don't you think it
+would be a good plan for me to look over her notes and see if I could
+not finish them, and offer it to some publisher? If it sold, it would
+be a tremendous help to Father Just now."
+
+Cecil did not answer. She seated herself in an easy chair by the fire,
+and her brows were furrowed with thought.
+
+"I can't conceive why Father is always so behind-hand with his bills.
+He simply cleared out the small balance we kept in our bank abroad, and
+brought me home literally without a penny in my pocket!"
+
+"I don't think you realise what his income really is. I want to talk to
+you about it. You must not order expensive clothes from London, Cecil,
+you really must not. We cannot afford it. There is a very good little
+dressmaker in Coppleton who will come out and do anything that you
+want. Father and I have strained every nerve to pay the many bills for
+clothes which have come in; but we can't do more, and I'm sure you will
+help us now by trying to be economical."
+
+"Don't mention the word 'economy' to me," flashed out Cecil
+passionately. "I hate the sound of it, and so did darling Mother. It
+has been the curse of our lives, and if you think that now she has
+gone, you can bully me over clothes you are mistaken. You grudge me
+my mourning for her Father has stripped me of every penny I possess.
+You are going to try to make me as great a fright as yourself in your
+country bumpkin clothes. But you won't do it. I give you fair warning!
+Mother's money is as much mine as yours. If she had known, she would
+have made a will and left it to me. She meant to do it—I know she did.
+And as for taking her book and making money out of it for yourself and
+Father, you shall not do it. It is in my keeping and belongs to me!"
+
+Joan was absolutely dumbfounded by this outburst. Cecil ended it by a
+passionate burst of tears. Joan instantly was on her knees beside her,
+putting her arms tenderly round her.
+
+"Oh, Cecil dearest, what cruel things to say! You are miserable, and
+so am I. We are both Mother's daughters, we both love her, and are
+mourning together for her loss. Don't let us hurt each other by unkind
+words and thoughts!"
+
+"Oh," sobbed Cecil, "you never understood her. You never loved her as I
+did. I am left alone. Nobody cares for me!"
+
+Joan assured her of her affection; she felt as if she were talking to a
+passionate, unreasonable child. It was absolutely impossible at present
+to convince her of the need of carefulness over money. Joan's one
+desire was to gain her love and keep it, so she gradually soothed her
+into quietness again, and Cecil went so far as to own that she did not
+mean all she said.
+
+"I feel beside myself with misery," she confessed. "It is an awful, a
+terrible thing—death. I can't get over it. Why, only a fortnight ago
+Mother was talking and laughing with me, now we have buried her under
+tons of earth—glad to get rid of her!"
+
+She gave a shudder.
+
+"No, no," protested Joan. "Her self, her spirit is not there, only her
+worn-out body."
+
+"It was not worn-out—that's the—the cruelty of it! Oh, I know that
+shocks you. But if I do believe in God, I shall never love Him. He does
+such terribly cruel things or allows them to be done."
+
+"God sees farther than we do, and from the other side," said Joan
+firmly and gravely. "He sees both sides. We only see one, so how can we
+judge correctly? I wish you had heard Father's sermon yesterday."
+
+Cecil gave a little snort.
+
+"Father! Well, he is my father, but nobody can say his sermons are
+anything but the simplest platitudes!"
+
+"Our Lord's words were very simple sometimes," said Joan with flushed
+cheeks. "It is heartfelt experience that impresses me, more than any
+amount of head knowledge and clever theories."
+
+Cecil shrugged her shoulders, but relapsed into silence. She had
+recovered her temper, and peace was restored, but she quietly went on
+her way, and ordered London clothes at very high prices.
+
+Joan said no more. She felt she could not. She was intensely desirous
+of winning Cecil's affection, and she had a tremendous pity for her, as
+she knew the loss of the mother who was always so devoted to her and to
+her interests would be felt by her very deeply.
+
+She herself could not adjust her life to her fresh circumstances. She
+foresaw trouble in the future, for Cecil was more than ever determined
+not to adapt herself to her home environment, and Mr. Adair had said
+sadly but quite decidedly to Joan the day after he returned:
+
+"We must be very patient with poor Cecil, as she must be content to
+stay at home now. Her days of going abroad are over. I know our doctor
+here thought it quite unnecessary."
+
+
+After a week or two of quiet seclusion, when Cecil tried everyone in
+the house by her exacting demands and fretful complaints, life slipped
+back into the usual grooves.
+
+Wilmot Gascoigne had purposely abstained from troubling Joan about
+their book, but now he appeared again and made great demands, as
+before, on her time and attention. She could not give them to him
+in the same way now that Cecil was in the house; and she had been
+having great heart searchings with herself about the book since her
+mother's death. Joan was conscious that her work with him was not
+uplifting. She had often gone to bed in such weariness of body and
+such mental confusion that her peace of mind had suffered; she had
+become irritably impatient under the daily difficulties and trials,
+and she was conscious that her soul was drifting from its sure and
+certain anchorage. She had tried to break away from her writing, but
+Wilmot, with his insistent pertinacity, had refused to let her go. And
+the fascination of creating had taken possession of her. She had been
+pleased when she had influenced Wilmot to omit questionable passages
+and insert something that was really good. She had thrown a sop to her
+conscience by asserting to herself that she was improving the tone of
+his writing; but all the time she knew too well that if she did raise
+his standard a tiny bit, she lowered her own a great deal. Her mother's
+sudden illness and death had brought the unseen world very near to her,
+and the realities of life and death impressed her deeply.
+
+One afternoon Wilmot left her hastily. She had ventured to disagree
+with much warmth with him over a vexed question of moral perception,
+and she refused to give way or allow herself to be outtalked.
+
+He gathered up his papers.
+
+"Very well. I have no time or use for such unprofitable discussion, and
+must work on by myself till you come to a reasonable mind."
+
+Without another word he marched out of the house. Joan watched him go
+with hot cheeks and ruffled feelings. Her father was visiting in the
+village; Cecil was lying on her bed with a novel. The house was quiet.
+Tea was over, and there was a good hour and a half before dinner. Joan
+betook herself to the orchard, to a secluded spot under the pink and
+white apple blossoms, where she could remain unseen.
+
+There was a low bench, on which she seated herself.
+
+"I am caught in a net," she told herself, as, resting her chin in her
+hands, she determined to wrestle out things with herself. "I am wasting
+my talents and time on gathering straws on a muck heap! Oh, how angry
+Mr. Gascoigne would be to hear me say it! If his work is strong and
+goes down to posterity, will it be for the real welfare of those who
+read it? What will be my share in it? Am I not denying my faith and
+creed to please Mr. Gascoigne, and stifling my conscientious scruples?
+Am I not aiding and abetting him in his absolutely irreligious views of
+life?"
+
+She covered her face with her hands. A rush of conviction of failure
+came over her, and tears crept to her eyes. The sweet spring air, the
+twittering of birds getting ready for their nightly rest, the cooing of
+wood pigeons in the distance seemed to be purifying and cleansing her
+befogged brain. Nature always drew her to Nature's God.
+
+She had for a long while denied herself time to think, and her quiet
+time of thought now showed her where she was wrong. How long she sat
+there she did not know; she was deep in thought and prayer when a
+well-known voice made her start and rise to her feet.
+
+"Here's the bad penny again! Good luck to you, Joan, my darlint!"
+
+It was Derrick, standing within a few feet of her, looking very
+handsome and very mischievous.
+
+He took off his soft felt hat with a flourishing bow.
+
+"I told you I would be down for Easter. I couldn't get an invite out of
+old Jossy, and I knew—" here his face grew grave—"I knew your trouble,
+and I have written my sympathy, so I won't repeat it; but I could not
+quarter myself upon you in your circumstances; and I was determined to
+come, so I've settled myself at the Colleton Arms, where I arrived last
+night. Now, then, we're chums, remember; tell me how things are going."
+
+He sat down on the bench by her side. Joan heaved a sigh, half of
+pleasure and relief at seeing him, half of regret and remorse for her
+actions in the past.
+
+"Oh, things are going badly," she said with a smile; "but they never
+do go very well with us, you know, only I am, as a rule, loath to
+acknowledge it. Don't let us talk of ourselves; tell me of your doings."
+
+"What are you crying about?" Derrick demanded gravely. "I don't think
+I have ever seen you with tear-stained cheeks before. How you used to
+rush away, as a small child, and hide yourself till all traces of them
+were removed."
+
+"You have taken me at a disadvantage," said Joan, trying to speak
+lightly. "I was really taking myself to task for my own sins and
+shortcomings. You mustn't pose as my father confessor, Derrick. Hasn't
+it been a lovely day? Shall we come indoors? Cecil will be so pleased
+to see you."
+
+"No, we will stay here. Now, then, start away. Tell me your trouble."
+
+Joan at first resented his determined tone, then the longing to get
+somebody's advice about her literary efforts made her plunge into her
+difficulties. She told him that she wanted to earn money, that she had
+been doing so before she began to help Wilmot in his book, that his
+scheme was taking all her time and strength, and that now she felt it
+was even taking her religion from her.
+
+"I suppose I am tired, but I look upon it as a huge octopus fastening
+itself upon me and draining me of all that is best in life. It
+fascinates me when I am at work, but I want to break away from it, and
+I can't. I hoped it would not be such a long business, but, of course,
+a big book can't be written in a couple of months or so, and we have
+not been at it much longer than that. And I am really longing to put
+Mother's notes in order and bring out her book. She has done about half
+of it, and I am persuading Cecil to let me undertake it. I feel I can
+do it, and I shall love to do it. It is so pure, so—so cultured and
+interesting."
+
+"And what is Motty going to pay you for helping him?"
+
+Joan coloured.
+
+"Oh, there has never been any question of payment. I suppose when the
+book is published, he will let me have some share in it."
+
+"If you haven't had an agreement in black and white, Motty won't give
+you one penny! I know him. And I question whether it will ever get into
+print. Motty is no good as a novelist. He is too heavy and dogmatical,
+and hasn't any sense of humour. You have been wasting your goods, my
+dear Joan. Don't look so downhearted. I'll get you out of his clutches.
+Fancy stopping off your own compositions when you can get them placed
+in a good magazine! It's high time I came down here to look after you,
+but I warned you against that chap, now didn't I?"
+
+Joan tried to laugh.
+
+"You talk like an old grandfather! I can't give you leave to
+interfere between Mr. Gascoigne and myself. I must get out of my own
+difficulties, but I am glad of your counsel."
+
+There was a little silence. Derrick was scanning her from head to foot.
+Joan always felt that he had a possessive way of talking to her, and
+she did not want to encourage it.
+
+"You are worried and thin, and Motty ought to be horsewhipped. He has
+taken advantage of your sweet good nature to benefit himself, and he
+does not intend that you shall have any reward for so doing."
+
+"Don't let us talk any more about it," said Joan, sitting up briskly.
+"Tell me about your political doings. I love to have a good talk with
+anyone who is in the know in politics."
+
+Derrick complied with her request. He could be very patient as well as
+very pertinacious when he liked, and he had registered a vow in his
+heart that Wilmot should hear his views very soon on the subject of his
+novel.
+
+He and Joan sat on till dusk enveloped them, and then Joan took him
+into the house. Cecil came out of the drawing-room to greet them.
+
+"I couldn't think where you had gone," she said to Joan, extending her
+hand to Derrick.
+
+She looked very fragile and graceful in her long, trailing, thin, black
+gown.
+
+"It's good to see you, Derrick," she went on; "but I would welcome any
+village lout, I do believe! I am so sick of my own society."
+
+"Why don't you take brisk constitutionals this fine weather?" demanded
+Derrick. "Women have no sense. You and Banty go to extremes; she is
+never indoors, you are never out. One is just as bad as the other."
+
+"Oh, don't preach! Joan is given to that. What are you doing down here?"
+
+Derrick laughed in his open, happy way.
+
+"I've just come down for an Easter rest. Have clapped my papers and
+pens together, and fastened them down under lock and key, and I'm out
+for a spree. I'm going to make things hum for you here, and also make
+it hot—oh, very hot—for a gentleman of my acquaintance. Yes, Miss
+Joan, I am. Now, sweet Malingerer, you and I must plan out some Easter
+dissipation. What shall it be?"
+
+He seized hold of Cecil by the arm and marched her back into the
+drawing-room. Joan smiled as she watched them settle themselves into
+two very comfortable chairs. She was quite content that Cecil should
+enjoy his stimulating society for a little time, and she went to tell
+her father of his arrival, and then out into the kitchen to consult
+with Sophia about the dinner, for she knew that Derrick would stay for
+the rest of the evening.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+DERRICK TO THE RESCUE
+
+EASTER, on the top of their trouble, was a trying time to the Adairs,
+but Derrick helped them very much by his sunshiny optimism. Joan's
+creases smoothed out of her brows; she gave herself up to the enjoyment
+of his society. Cecil grew more cheerful and less exacting, and though,
+of course, they were very quiet owing to their deep mourning, he
+insisted on hiring a motor from the neighbouring town and taking them
+out for long days in the sweet spring sunshine.
+
+Wilmot went away to friends for Easter. He had been down to the rectory
+once, but had found everyone out, and Joan felt that he was deeply
+annoyed by their last interview.
+
+The Gascoignes had a house party, but though Derrick dined with them
+twice, he was quite content to spend most of his time at the rectory.
+
+"It is home in a double sense to me," he confided to Cecil. "This house
+was my boyhood's home, and now you are all in it, I feel quite a member
+of your family."
+
+He chaffed and laughed with her a good deal, but it was to Joan that
+he showed the tender protectiveness of his nature; and she was so
+unaccustomed to be shielded and waited upon that she hardly knew how to
+take it. Her small pupils went away with their mother to the sea for
+their holidays, so her time was much more her own.
+
+One morning Derrick came in early and asked her to come for a long walk
+with him.
+
+"Let us take some lunch with us, and then we need not hurry back."
+
+Joan's eyes danced, then she shook her head.
+
+"Don't tempt me. I had determined to mend some of the Sunday school
+library books this morning, and Sophia is at this moment making some
+paste for me. What a pity Cecil does not care for walking! You could
+take her if she did. It would do her such a lot of good."
+
+"I don't want Cecil, I want you; and the school books can wait. Now
+hurry up! I will give you half an hour to get ready. I shall go and get
+Dominie to support me if you are still obdurate."
+
+There was no gainsaying him. Cecil was still in her bedroom; she rarely
+came down before lunch, and always breakfasted in continental fashion
+by herself. Joan told her that she might be out to luncheon, then she
+went out to the kitchen, and Sophia and she soon packed a small basket
+of food. In a very short time she was stepping across the heath with
+a light heart, and Derrick was well satisfied with the success of his
+move.
+
+"Motty is back again," he informed her. "I met Banty in the village
+this morning. She's like a fish out of water when the hunting's
+over—asked me to come up this evening to dinner, so I'm going. I mean
+to have it out with Motty."
+
+"Now look here, Derrick, you must promise me not to discuss our book.
+It is our private business, and nobody else's. We don't want it to be
+made public property."
+
+"My dear child, everyone at the Hall knows about it. Old Jossy told me
+Motty was down at the rectory every night of his life, and it seems he
+taxed him with trying to win your affections. Jossy is never delicate
+in his speeches. Then Motty told him all about it. Banty considers he
+is doing you! She and I know him for a fraud! You haven't altered your
+mind about bringing it to an end, have you?"
+
+"I would prefer to settle it myself with him."
+
+"You're afraid I shall be nasty."
+
+"Perhaps I am," said Joan, laughing. "Mr. Gascoigne has been very kind
+to me. I think the fact is that two people cannot write a book together
+unless they are absolutely of the same mind about certain things. At
+first I was diffident and inexperienced. I wrote as he wished; but now
+I find my principles are involved, and I will not sacrifice them to the
+public taste or demands. I do not think I should ever be a successful
+novelist. I am out of my element In tragedy and sensation."
+
+"You keep to your nature studies," said Derrick; "they are first-rate.
+Now let us change the subject. Now that the Malingerer has come
+home—and I hope she has come back to stay—you will be able to leave,
+will you not? I want you to come up to town. You have met my cousin,
+Mrs. Denby; she will be delighted to take you about, and I'll get you
+into the House to hear some of the debates. Can't you manage to come
+back with me when my holiday is up?"
+
+"Oh, Derrick, you are too absurd!" said Joan, laughing gaily. "I shall
+never be able to leave home. And as to a visit to town, I shall be as
+likely to go up there as to Timbuctoo! No; my place is here, and here I
+shall stay. It's waste of words to suggest anything else."
+
+Derrick was silent for a short time; he put back what he was longing
+to say, for he did not want to spoil their day out. They tramped over
+the dead heather and bracken, and his natural good spirits asserted
+themselves. He and Joan were like a boy and girl together, and when
+they sat down on the top of a heather-covered hill and looked over
+a vast extent of fresh green country with purple distances, Joan
+exclaimed:
+
+"I haven't a care in the world at this moment! Isn't it funny how one's
+senses minister to one's soul? My mouth and eyes and nose are enjoying
+this to distraction, so my soul follows suit. Did you ever smell such
+fragrant, delicious air? I want to inhale it as much as I can. I want
+to bottle it up and take it back with me. And isn't that stretch of
+country in front of us a sight for sore eyes? Did you ever see such
+pure, deep blue hills?"
+
+"Don't you understand the tramps' and the gipsies' hatred of towns? I
+say, Joan, when the summer comes shall we do a tramp together? We might
+go down to Hampshire and start on the edge of the New Forest."
+
+"There is a Mrs. Grundy still," said Joan.
+
+"I thought she was dead long ago. There's safety in numbers. I could
+get another fellow to join us, and Banty might come. You could chaperon
+her, or she could chaperon you. She's improving. This time I've quite
+liked her, and she worships you. I'm all for getting you out of your
+rut now that the Malingerer is at home."
+
+"It's no good planning such things," said Joan with a laughing shake
+of her head. "They make my mouth water, but you and I know they are
+impossible. I am not to be moved out of my rut. I am going to settle
+into it very snugly; I shall end by liking ruts. Now shall we attack
+our lunch? I am voraciously hungry!"
+
+It was when their walk was nearly over that Derrick spoke his mind:
+
+"Joan, do you realise that I'm still waiting for you?"
+
+Joan looked at him reproachfully.
+
+"Oh, Derrick, I hoped you were growing wiser."
+
+"Don't talk like a grandmother. There's only one woman filling my
+heart. I've been waiting all my life for you, and you know it. I want
+to settle down like other men. This is my side of it. But I also want
+to have a right to take care of you, to give you pleasure, to put you
+in a better atmosphere than you have at present. You would do us a lot
+of good if you came to town. We get so cynical and worldly, and grub so
+for money and position and power that you'd act as a splendid check,
+and also as an exhilarating tonic."
+
+Then, seeing Joan's eyes twinkle, he added hastily: "I only say this
+because you're so strong on influence and that sort of thing. And
+you're wasted here. But, of course, the real truth is I want you. I'm
+your devoted slave now as I always have been; but I'm getting tired of
+waiting. Oh, Joan, do listen! Give yourself right away to me now and
+for ever. Let us walk the world together, oblivious of anyone else.
+Won't you take me on trial?"
+
+"How? One can't marry on trial, and, Derrick, dear, I hate to say
+it, but I couldn't risk it. You're a faithful chum and a staunch
+comrade—I'm always happy with you—but—and I think this is a test of
+love—I would not be as happy if we were in closer relationship. I never
+want to get nearer to you. Do you understand? Our present friendship
+satisfies me completely. I do see this is selfishness on my part. You
+deserve to receive more, and this is the reason I did not want you to
+come down this Easter. I want you to forget me, and learn to care for
+some nice girl who will be as much in love with you as you are with
+her. I believe real love is the only foundation for a happy married
+life. And you are too good to waste your best on one who never can
+return it. You think I do not know my own mind, but I do; and I wish
+you would let this talk between us be the final one on this subject. I
+shall never alter. I always have looked upon you as a brother, and I
+always shall."
+
+The earnestness and force with which she spoke crushed Derrick's
+budding hopes. He was absolutely silent, fighting down his deep
+disappointment, and Joan felt almost as miserable as he did. She hated
+to have hurt him, and yet she felt it was necessary. He walked up to
+the rectory gate with her, then held out his hand.
+
+"I'll try to get over it," he said huskily. "I'm at last convinced that
+it's no good to hope any longer."
+
+Joan looked rather wistfully at him.
+
+"Do you want my friendship still," she asked him, "or do you feel it
+must be all or nothing?"
+
+"I don't know what I feel at present. A crushed, battered piece of
+pulp, I think. I suppose I had better get back to town to-morrow. I did
+promise Dominie to drive him into Coppleton, but I'll send him a line."
+
+Joan said nothing. She gripped his hand and smiled at him, but her eyes
+were misty, and she fled into the house. It was a comfort to her to get
+inside her bedroom and relieve her feelings by a flood of tears.
+
+"I shall lose the only friend I have," she thought, "and I have brought
+wretchedness instead of happiness into his life."
+
+She had not been in her bedroom for half an hour before Cecil came to
+the door asking for admission. After a little hesitation, Joan let her
+in, and Cecil was too absorbed in her own thoughts to notice anything
+the matter with her sister.
+
+She seated herself in Joan's low chair by the window.
+
+"Wilmot Gascoigne has been here most of the afternoon," she announced.
+"He said he could not stay to tea. I don't think there is much love
+lost between him and Derrick. Why hasn't Derrick come in? I thought he
+would be sure to have tea with us."
+
+[Illustration: JOAN WAS DEEP IN THOUGHT AND PRAYER WHEN A
+ WELL-KNOWN VOICE MADE HER START.]
+
+"He did not think of it, nor more did I. Did Mr. Gascoigne want to see
+me?"
+
+"At first he did. But we got into very interesting talk. He knows
+the Riviera so well that we had a lot in common. I like him. It's an
+education to hear him talk. And I have given over Mother's book to him.
+I feel he is the right person to undertake it. It is very good of him
+to do it. He looked through a lot of it and liked it immensely."
+
+"Oh, Cecil, how could you?"
+
+Joan's bitter, passionate cry escaped her unawares. It had been her
+great hope to do it herself. She felt that she could do it, and Cecil
+had almost agreed that she should.
+
+"I don't think you should have done such a thing without asking
+Father's advice, or—or mine."
+
+Cecil tossed her head.
+
+"My dear Joan, what does Father know about such things? And do you
+think for a moment that you could do it better than a clever literary
+man who knows the country in which it has been written? Why, you have
+never been abroad. Your experience is as narrow as Father's. I consider
+we are very lucky in having such a friend to take it off our hands."
+
+"I don't think you know Mr. Gascoigne as well as I do, Cecil. I am
+very, very sorry you have given it to him. To begin with, he has too
+many irons in the fire already. He has not finished the Gascoigne
+book yet; and we really do want Mother's book to be taken in hand and
+finished. I am bitterly disappointed that you have done such a thing."
+
+"I suppose you thought you could have made a name for yourself over
+it," said Cecil; "but I haven't confidence in you. Because you have
+been successful with a short magazine article, it does not follow that
+you could compile and edit a book like Mother's. I am ambitious for her
+sake. I don't want it to be a failure."
+
+"Well," said Joan, struggling to speak gently, "it is done now, so
+there is no use in talking about it. We must hope he will do it well.
+Did you arrange anything with him about the profits from it?"
+
+"Of course not. There is time for that when the book has been finished
+and accepted by some publisher."
+
+Joan did not speak.
+
+Cecil got up from her chair.
+
+"I thought you would like to hear about it," she said airily. "Are you
+coming down to tea? It is ready."
+
+"Yes. Don't wait for me."
+
+Joan felt desperately that she must have a little quiet to digest this
+heavy blow.
+
+When Cecil had left her, she pushed open her window and knelt by it.
+
+The fresh spring air, the scent of the violets and sweet brier hedge
+below rose to greet her.
+
+Her whole spirit resented Cecil's summary proceeding. She knew now
+from experience that Wilmot Gascoigne was not wholly to her liking
+as a writer. She had waged war with him more than once over certain
+passages descriptive of Nature's beauty. He belittled and scoffed at
+the recognition of a Divine hand in it, and she could not bear to think
+that her mother's book should be placed in his hands to be cut up and
+revised as he judged fit. And she felt that she had it in her to bring
+out all the best in that book. She also had fears now that Wilmot would
+not make a profitable sum out of it, and this was a very important
+matter to them all.
+
+"Why do things go so crooked?" she sighed to herself.
+
+But when she rose from her knees, she was able to go downstairs with a
+serene face, and, if her laugh was not quite so frequent or her smiles
+so bright, there was nothing in her demeanour to show vexation or
+resentment.
+
+When Mr. Adair heard about it, he looked annoyed.
+
+"You should have asked me first, Cecil," he said. "You had no right to
+give your mother's book to a stranger."
+
+"Mother gave me her book," said Cecil, with a wilful curve to her lips.
+"I am not a fool, and I have full confidence in Motty, as they call
+him."
+
+Joan wondered if she should hear any more of the book she and he were
+writing together. She hoped that Derrick would not interfere too much
+about it, and consoled herself by thinking that he would be too full
+of his own feelings to approach the subject that night, as he had
+threatened to do.
+
+It was of no use to argue with Cecil about the wisdom of her impulsive
+action, and Joan appeased her father by saying that Wilmot was
+certainly very clever, and was in touch with several of the leading
+publishers of the day.
+
+
+The next morning, her small pupils being still away, Joan betook
+herself to the garden. There was always a great deal more to do there
+than the odd man could possibly get through. She was very busy weeding
+a patch of ground, when a voice close to her startled her.
+
+"I can't keep away, you see, even after our talk yesterday; but I want
+to tell you about my interview with Motty."
+
+Of course, it was Derrick. Joan greeted him quite cheerfully.
+
+"Tell me," she said; "but don't expect me to stop weeding. I can do
+that and listen too."
+
+"It won't hurt you to rest for a bit. Here, sit on this old hen-coop.
+Now, then, where shall I begin? I nearly went for him at the
+dinner-table last night. What a conceited ass he is! But I bided my
+time, and old Jossy helped me, for he actually left us alone in the
+smoking-room together to enjoy a brand of his best cigars."
+
+"Derrick, I asked you not to interfere."
+
+"I had to take my thoughts off the gnawing ache in my heart. Isn't that
+the phrase they use in books? And I was longing to pitch into someone.
+I was in the right mood for it, and he was the right man for me. What
+on earth has the Malingerer been doing? We were at cross purposes at
+first, for he thought I had come to take away your mother's MS. from
+him. He is very keen on that now, and means to run the Malingerer for a
+bit. It seems she and he are going to do it together."
+
+Joan almost laughed, though she felt sore at heart. "Why, Cecil is too
+restless to stay at her writing-desk for more than half an hour at a
+time."
+
+"Just so. Well, he thinks, of course, you have treated him badly and
+have left him in the lurch. So that gave me my innings, and I told him
+what I thought about him. Oh, yes, I did; and if we were in France,
+I suppose there would have been an early morning duel to-day. He is
+coming down to have a personal interview with you; but I rather think
+he will back out of that, and write instead. We went at each other like
+hammer and tongs. How I wish you and Cecil would keep clear of him."
+
+Joan looked distressed. Derrick was unusually grave.
+
+"I wish you could talk to Cecil about it; but I am afraid she has
+already committed herself; and we do not want to quarrel with Mr.
+Gascoigne, Derrick. He has been very kind and good."
+
+Derrick shrugged his broad shoulders.
+
+"I'll go straight in and have it out with the Malingerer. I had better
+see where she stands. I know you think me an interfering fool, but
+women are so helpless in the clutches of a man like Motty; and you've
+no brother."
+
+He was off. Joan went on with her weeding with a distracted mind. Half
+an hour later Derrick came back to her.
+
+"I've done no good," he confessed ruefully. "The Malingerer is
+infatuated with him, as you were; but I'll keep an eye on him, and if
+he gets the book ready for publication, I'll have my say as to the
+publisher and the price. I know a man in town who will look after it
+for me."
+
+He did not stay, for he told Joan he was going up to town by the twelve
+o'clock express. They took farewell of each other very quietly.
+
+Late that afternoon Wilmot made his appearance and asked to see Joan.
+She went into the drawing-room with a beating heart, but he was
+perfectly courteous.
+
+"I want to talk to you about our book. Did you think I had forsaken
+you for good and all? The fact is I called directly I came back from
+town, which was only yesterday. You were not in, and your sister, as
+you know, begged me to undertake the compiling and editing of your
+mother's notes on the Riviera. I suppose you were vexed that I had
+undertaken a fresh book without first finishing the other; but, as I
+told you before, I can work best when I have two or three books going.
+They supply a vent for my every mood and serve to quicken my faculties.
+I had no intention of stopping my work with you. You can picture my
+astonishment when Colleton attacked me like a fury. I won't tell you
+all he said. It was unrepeatable! I could only imagine he had found
+you hurt and indignant, and inclined to say hastily that you would
+have nothing more to do with me. His passion was too impotent and
+childish to touch me in the least. I could only think he had made a
+little too free with my cousin's old port. He seems to regard himself
+as your protector and guide, but I hardly think he was speaking with
+your consent upon matters which were strictly confidential between
+ourselves."
+
+Joan's cheeks were hot, yet she spoke with her natural sweet dignity.
+
+"Derrick is like a brother to us. I am sorry there was any friction
+between you. It was wrong of him. Of course, I did not wish him to
+attack you in such a way. I am very glad you have come round, because
+I was going to write to you, and it is so much easier to talk than
+to write. You must disabuse your mind of the idea that I was hurt or
+indignant with you. Why should I be? Frankly, as I have often told you
+lately, I don't feel I can help you in this joint book of ours, and I
+do want to get out of it."
+
+"But this is a very serious thing! If you had not been such a friend,
+I should have drawn up an agreement, and got you to sign it. You could
+not have then withdrawn without giving me some compensation for doing
+so."
+
+He looked straight at her as he spoke and snapped his lips together in
+an ill-tempered way.
+
+"Don't you see," he went on, "that, unless I am able to finish that
+book single-handed, you have made me waste my strength and mind and
+time on a task that you make useless?"
+
+"But I am sure you will be able to finish it yourself," said Joan,
+eagerly seizing upon the loophole he gave her of extricating herself
+from his toils. "I am a drag on you; I feel that I am. We are not
+suited to work together. I pull you back, and you fetter me. And I want
+you to release me. I cannot hold to my principles and write as you
+wish. If you desire compensation, I will try and meet you, but it is
+impossible to go on writing with you."
+
+"Very well," said Wilmot very stiffly, "we will say no more. I was
+mistaken in my estimate of your powers and in your adaptability to
+my methods. I cannot force you to continue working with me. Only,
+it is a pity that you did not know your own mind—or, shall I say,
+principles?—when we first started. I hope your sister will not treat me
+in the same way over this MS. of your mother's. Have you any objection
+to offer on that score?"
+
+Joan was so overwhelmed with his reproaches that she could say nothing
+for a moment.
+
+"My sister gave it to you without consulting me," she said quietly.
+
+"Which means that you would have prevented her doing it if you could?"
+
+Joan hesitated.
+
+He gave a little bitter laugh.
+
+"It is a case of being wounded in the house of one's friends," he said.
+"I wonder what I have done to turn you so against me? I suppose I have
+to thank Colleton for it. He is madly jealous of anyone poaching on his
+preserves."
+
+"That is quite unjust and untrue," said Joan warmly. "I had better be
+entirely frank with you. I was looking forward to editing my mother's
+book myself. It would have been a keen pleasure to me to do so, and I
+was naturally disappointed when Cecil told me that she had given it to
+you. It is nothing personal against you; I am simply disappointed, that
+is all. I know you have more experience of the scenes in which the book
+is laid, and I am sure Cecil is much happier in the thought of your
+undertaking it than if I were to do it."
+
+"You place me in a very unpleasant position. I think I had better see
+your sister, and suggest that I should hand it back again to you.
+I really have such a lot of literary work in hand that I shall be
+relieved than otherwise. It is a thankless task—editing other people's
+books."
+
+Deep annoyance underlay his words. Joan began to apologise and protest.
+He stopped her abruptly and asked her if he could see Cecil.
+
+Joan went to find her. She felt miserable, and knew that nothing would
+make Cecil take back the MS. Hastily she explained the situation to her
+sister, who was lying on the couch in her bedroom reading.
+
+"Wilmot Gascoigne here! Why was I not told? Came to see you? What
+about?"
+
+Then, when explanation had been given, she hastily left the room.
+
+"I never shall forgive you, Joan, if you have tried to force him not to
+undertake it. He must do it, and he shall."
+
+Joan left her to talk to him. She wandered out into the garden.
+
+"Oh, how I love peace! And how I bungle and stir up strife! Everything
+seems going wrong. I wish—I wish I had never tried to write."
+
+She began to tie up some straggling rose branches. She felt she did not
+want to meet Wilmot again, and yet was too proud to keep out of his
+way. She knew he must pass her as he went home. He was not very long in
+coming. To her surprise, he stopped when he reached her and held out
+his hand with one of his transforming smiles.
+
+"Be friends with me," he said. "Your sister won't hear of my returning
+the MS., and she says her mother gave it into her hands to do as she
+thought best with. I promise you that I will give my most careful
+attention to it. And you will be able to reap laurels on your own
+account. If I have spoken unkindly this afternoon, forgive me; but I
+was hurt and sorely—bitterly disappointed in your casting me off and
+refusing to work with me any more. I must come down very often and
+consult your sister about this book. She knows your mother's mind, and
+can supply many blanks in her notes. How can I do this if I feel you
+are unfriendly towards me?"
+
+"Indeed I am not that," poor Joan protested. "I am very grateful to you
+for all the help you have given me. I want to be one of your friends
+still."
+
+"Then we will shake hands upon it and wipe our slate clean," he said
+almost gaily.
+
+Joan shook hands with him, but watched his quick steps down the drive
+with a heavy heart. Certainly, Cecil was bringing discord into their
+hitherto peaceful life, yet she wondered if the fault was in herself.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+JOAN'S ILLNESS
+
+WHEN the holidays were over, and her pupils came back to her, Joan grew
+happier. Her life was too busy to allow her much time for brooding. She
+found more and more to interest her in the parish, and began to have a
+real liking for those she visited. She always made a point of absenting
+herself from the house after tea, for Wilmot was incessantly there
+and shut up in the drawing-room with Cecil. Sometimes she felt amused
+at the quick ending to her own intercourse with him, and the easy way
+in which he had transferred his society to Cecil. If she met him, she
+always said a pleasant word to him. In a way she was thankful for the
+interest and occupation brought into Cecil's life, who looked forward
+eagerly to Wilmot's visits, and, if irritable and exacting the rest of
+the day, was always her gay sweet self when with him.
+
+Sophia shook her head over the visits.
+
+"'Twas well enough with you, Miss Joan, my dear. You meant business,
+you did; and if you'd worked all day and night with him I wouldn't have
+had a tremor, but I've eyes in my head, and I've been into the room at
+times on messages, and Miss Cecil she doesn't mean business—she means
+amusement! And if she plays with fire, she'll get burnt. There's too
+many smiles, and arch looks, and playful ways, and honeyed words to
+please me. It's my belief 'tis just flirtation over the inkpot, there!
+'Tis plain words, but just the truth."
+
+"Oh, Sophia, you're a foolish old dear, but you don't understand," Joan
+would say.
+
+"Don't I? I know Mr. Gascoigne has a level head and a still heart, but
+Miss Cecil haven't, and she'll be the one to suffer."
+
+Joan felt a little uneasy, but could not do anything. She knew if she
+warned Cecil in any way, she would only make matters worse.
+
+And then an epidemic of a bad type of influenza swept through the
+village, and Joan herself became one of the victims.
+
+She kept up as long as she could, but at last went to bed, and stayed
+there for nearly three weeks. When she got up again, she felt very weak
+and depressed.
+
+Cecil had not helped much during her illness. She was so afraid of
+being infected with it herself that she had spent most of her days
+out of doors, only returning to the house to sleep. It was beautiful
+weather, too dry to be healthy, for rain had not fallen for over a
+month. Cecil would take her books and luncheon to the pine woods, and
+there Wilmot would often meet her, with his roll of MS. under his arm.
+
+Naturally, when Joan came downstairs again, she found a great many
+things demanding her attention, and she had little strength to give to
+them. Her father, like a man, did not realise her weakness, and was so
+glad to get her help again in parish matters that he spared her little
+and made greater demands than she had the strength to fulfil. But she
+made every effort to please him.
+
+One afternoon Sophia came into the dining-room and found Joan literally
+sobbing over some parish club accounts. She tried to laugh when she met
+Sophia's concerned gaze.
+
+"I'm such a fool! I think I must have left half my brains in my bed. I
+can't add the least sum, and poor Father is hopeless with accounts. The
+books are so muddled that I can't make head or tail of them. I've been
+a whole hour over them, and the figures are now swimming in a thick
+haze before my eyes."
+
+Sophia swept the books up with her arm, and carried them off.
+
+"If you look at them again to-day, I'll put you straight to bed, Miss
+Joan, and keep you there. You come into the drawing-room and lie down
+for an hour. You're as weak as a baby."
+
+"I can't do it, Sophia. I have the schoolmistress coming to see me
+about some school difficulty. Here she is, coming up the drive."
+
+Sophia snorted, then went out to the kitchen and seized hold of pen and
+ink.
+
+"Jenny," she said sharply, as that young person came past her, "you
+go out of this kitchen, and don't come into it for half an hour. I've
+business to do which will take all the head I possess, and I won't be
+scatterbrained by you fussing round!"
+
+In half an hour's time a letter was written, and then Jenny was sent
+to the post office with it. It was addressed to "The Lady Alicia
+Fairchild."
+
+
+Three days after, Mr. Adair received a wire:
+
+ "Can you put me up for a few days?—ALICIA."
+
+He was rather perturbed at first.
+
+"I suppose we must say 'Yes,' my dear? I was hoping to get a little
+more of your time and attention now that you are well again. It has
+been a strain whilst you have been laid aside. Cecil seems as if she
+cannot give any help, and there are so many things that have got out of
+gear. But, of course, we cannot refuse to have Lady Alicia, and it will
+be only for a few days."
+
+Joan felt rather pleased. There was a triumphant gleam in Sophia's eyes
+when she was told that the spare room must be got ready. And Cecil
+acknowledged that a visitor would be very acceptable.
+
+Joan dragged herself about the house, feeling everything an effort,
+but determined to have all as dainty and fresh as possible for her
+godmother.
+
+Banty happened to call upon her the afternoon when Lady Alicia was
+expected, and exclaimed at Joan's white face and tired eyes:
+
+"What have you been doing to yourself? You ought to be in bed! You
+aren't fit to be up!"
+
+Joan's eyes filled with tears. Then she laughed. "I cry like a baby
+at nothing," she said, meeting Banty's surprised gaze. "The 'flu' has
+knocked me all to pieces. I feel quite aged. But I suppose I shall get
+all right in time."
+
+"You never will, if you slave away like this. What are you doing?
+Flowers? Why doesn't Cecil do them? There's nothing more tiring. I
+never touch them at home."
+
+When Banty took her leave, she said bluntly to Cecil, who walked to the
+gate with her:
+
+"You should make your sister rest, and run the show yourself for a bit.
+She's knocked all to pieces—couldn't believe my eyes when I saw her.
+Are you like me—no good in the house at all?"
+
+"Joan is a difficult person to manage," said Cecil sharply. "She will
+fuss about, doing everything herself, and will allow nobody to help
+her."
+
+"I'd pack her back to bed and lock the door," said Banty, as she walked
+off; but Cecil did not take the hint.
+
+When Lady Alicia eventually arrived she was met, as usual, at the
+station by Joan, whose white, strained face moved her to instant pity;
+but she said nothing to her about herself. When she was having a cup
+of tea in the drawing-room, Lady Alicia noted that Joan's hand visibly
+trembled when she lifted the teapot, and that she had a way of passing
+her hand over her eyes when anyone spoke to her. When Cecil dropped a
+teaspoon, she started with a little cry.
+
+In a few minutes, Jenny appeared at the door. "If you please, miss, the
+master wants to know if you've found the key of the poor-box?"
+
+Joan got up at once. Turning to Lady Alicia, she said, with a laugh:
+
+"I do believe that whilst I was ill, Father lost every key he ever
+possessed, as well as making hay of all the parish accounts and
+registers. We haven't reached our normal state yet."
+
+She left her tea untasted. Lady Alicia turned to Cecil at once when
+Joan had left the room.
+
+"Cecil, dear, do you know why I came down? I see I was right to come."
+
+"To see Joan, I suppose. I know you wouldn't come so far to see me."
+
+"To take her away with me for a rest and change. Don't you realise that
+she is badly needing it?"
+
+Cecil's laughing face grew grave.
+
+"Father pesters her so! He seems as if he is perfectly lost without
+her. She will never leave him."
+
+"You must help her to do so by promising to take her place."
+
+"I couldn't. It would be an impossibility. I am not cut out for parish
+work. I hate the lower orders, and they, of course, know it, and hate
+me back!"
+
+"Well, many of us have to do things we dislike, and you are going to
+prove your courage by doing it, too."
+
+Lady Alicia laid a gentle hand on her arm.
+
+"My dear child, you must, unless you want Joan to have a serious
+relapse. Don't pretend to be more selfish than you really are."
+
+"Father won't hear of Joan's leaving. He can't even let her have her
+tea in peace. Here they come, together. By their faces I should say the
+key is found."
+
+Mr. Adair came in beaming.
+
+"Found in the lining of my hat," he said. "Joan remembered that I have
+a trick of putting things there. Now I can enjoy my tea."
+
+"Joan's tea is quite cold," said Cecil severely.
+
+But Mr. Adair could never take a hint. He was quite unaware that he was
+inconsiderate in his continual demands for Joan's help.
+
+Joan sat down at the tea tray again and gave her father his tea, then
+leant back in her chair and listened to the conversation with an absent
+air, forgetting to take her own.
+
+[Illustration: JOAN HEARD A CHILD'S SHRILL CRY FOR HELP, AND LOOKING
+OUT UPON A ROCK CLOSE To THE SEA, SHE SAW A SMALL FIGURE WAVING A
+HANDKERCHIEF.]
+
+"I am on my way to Ireland," said Lady Alicia. "I dare say you may
+remember that I have an old house there, which for the last ten years
+has been let to a retired colonel and his wife. They have become
+alarmed at the prospect in front of them, for she has delicate health,
+and gave me notice to leave last quarter. They have actually left now,
+and I have an empty house on my hands. I am afraid, in the unsettled
+state of poor Ireland, that tenants will not be forthcoming, so I must
+go up there and see what I had better do about it. People tell me it
+may be needed as a hospital or convalescent home, but I pray that even
+yet some settlement may be arrived at to prevent the awful cloud of war
+coming down upon our unhappy land."
+
+"I never knew you had Irish property," said Mr. Adair. "Unless you live
+there yourself, you will, as you say, have no chance of letting it in
+these days."
+
+"No; it is in Ulster, and that fact alone, all agents tell me, is
+enough to keep people away from it."
+
+"Are you going to the choir practice to-night, Joan?" asked Mr. Adair.
+
+Joan started. She swallowed down her cold cup of tea.
+
+"I suppose I must. I had forgotten it."
+
+"Can't you let it slip to-night?" pleaded Lady Alicia. "You are not fit
+to do it, Joan dear. Do you know, Mr. Adair, I find Joan looking very
+ill?"
+
+"She has been very poorly," said Mr. Adair, quite cheerfully, "but she
+is well again now, thank God."
+
+Cecil laughed.
+
+"Oh, Father, Lady Alicia will not think much of your powers of
+observation! Now, Joan, you sit still for once in your life, and I will
+step across to the church and dismiss those choir boys."
+
+She sauntered out of the room. After rather a feeble protest, Joan
+remained in her seat.
+
+"I do feel frightfully lazy," she said, "and perhaps it will not matter
+missing a practice for once."
+
+Mr. Adair put on his spectacles and looked across at Joan with a
+puzzled air.
+
+"Joan, dear," said Lady Alicia, "could you let me speak to your father
+alone for a few minutes?"
+
+Joan looked surprised, but immediately left the room. She went upstairs
+to see if Lady Alicia's luggage had been carried to her room.
+
+She found Sophia there unstrapping the boxes, and when Joan said that
+that was Jenny's work, the old servant shook her head.
+
+"I'm waiting to see her ladyship, Miss Joan."
+
+"How fond you are of her!"
+
+"She is my only hope," said Sophia, "for she's a sensible woman, and
+never lets the grass grow under her feet."
+
+Joan sat down in the easy chair.
+
+"Oh, Sophia, I wish I did not feel so tired. What is the matter with
+me, I wonder?"
+
+"The matter! Have you given yourself a chance? Haven't you just left
+your bed to run up and down everywhere, after everybody and everything?
+You're just tempting Providence—that's what you're doing."
+
+Joan did not answer.
+
+Sophia was down on her knees, unpacking now. It was not very long
+before they heard the drawing-room door open, and in a moment or two
+Lady Alicia was in the room. She held out her hand to Sophia.
+
+"It is all settled," she said. "Miss Joan is coming over to Ireland
+with me next Tuesday, and I shall keep her there till she is her bonny
+self again!"
+
+Sophia's face glowed with pleasure, but Joan protested in amazement.
+
+"How can I leave home! It's impossible!"
+
+"It's perfectly easy. Your father has consented to part with you, and
+it will be Cecil's opportunity to prove her abilities."
+
+Joan could hardly believe her ears. The prospect of a change and a
+holiday with her beloved godmother almost overwhelmed her. She still
+would not believe that it could be realised.
+
+"Cecil will never take my place," she said. "Father will get miserable
+and ill, and the whole parish go to pieces."
+
+"Perhaps you over-estimate your powers," said Lady Alicia dryly.
+
+Joan flushed crimson.
+
+"Oh, ask Sophia what it was like when I was ill. She said she could
+never go through it again!" Sophia looked a little abashed.
+
+"I may have spoken rash, Miss Joan, but I'm willing to do it again, for
+if I don't, you'll just sink into your grave. I want to see your face
+smile and hear you singing as you go about. It's been a dreary time
+of late. Her ladyship has my full sanction, as she knows, to take you
+away, and glad I'll be to see you go!"
+
+With that, Sophia stumped out of the room; and, looking up at Lady
+Alicia, Joan cried, between tears and smiles:
+
+"I believe it is a plot between you."
+
+"It is, my dear. Sophia wrote to me asking me to come and look after
+you. Now, Joan, you must help me by making it easy for them to spare
+you. Your father is willing; that is the one thing that matters. I am
+going to have a long talk with Cecil to-night. I think she will rise to
+the occasion."
+
+At mention of Cecil's name, Joan's face clouded.
+
+"I am afraid I cannot, ought not to leave her. You know what she is,
+Lady Alicia. So difficult to influence and restrain. Yesterday I
+heard some unpleasant gossip in the village about her. She and Wilmot
+Gascoigne are going to publish my mother's book. I wrote to you about
+it, did I not? They spend hours together in the woods over it—Cecil
+never does conform to convention—and the village will have it that they
+are 'courting,' to use their own expression. Don't you see that if I go
+away, matters may get worse? There will be nobody to look after Cecil;
+she does want looking after. Mother shielded her and lived for her; she
+is quite unaccustomed to stand alone. And if she wants to do a thing,
+she will do it, regardless of appearances or consequences."
+
+"My dear child, your absence will prove her salvation. She will be kept
+too busy in house and village to have the time for long rambles with
+this young man. Is he not the one with whom you were going to write a
+book?"
+
+"Yes—oh, I have so much to tell you, and so much to talk about!"
+
+Lady Alicia noted again the weary gesture of the hand across the eyes.
+
+"We shall have plenty of time for talk by and by. It will all keep for
+the present."
+
+"I can't believe I shall go with you. I haven't thanked you yet. It
+seems too like a dream to be true. I wonder if it will be possible for
+me to leave?"
+
+"I can tell you, my dear, that I do not intend to leave this house
+without you."
+
+"But my pupils! Oh, dear Lady Alicia! There are such crowds of
+objections to my going. You see, my illness has been such a set-back.
+Harry and Alan are running wild; it isn't fair to them."
+
+"I think, if I may say so, you ought not to continue to teach them.
+Surely, my dear Joan, there is not such pressing need now for money?"
+
+"I am afraid we have still back bills troubling us. You are no
+stranger, Lady Alicia; you know what a struggle it was when Mother and
+Cecil were abroad. My Father has never got straight since the expenses
+of our move, and Cecil will not realise the necessity for economy. I
+have now in my possession bills to the amount of thirty pounds which
+she has incurred since Mother's death, and nearly all of them are for
+clothes. I dare not let Father see them; he would worry so!"
+
+"But, my dear Joan, this must be stopped. I am very glad you have told
+me—I always feel I come next to your mother with regard to you two
+girls, and Cecil is a little influenced by me, I know. Does not your
+father give her a settled allowance?"
+
+"No. You see, Mother and she were always together, and Mother gave her
+a free hand."
+
+"I will try and get him to do it at once, and then, if she exceeds
+it, she will be responsible for her own bills. You will not mind my
+helping you in this matter? You know I am fond of Cecil, though I see
+her faults. And I will call on your doctor's wife and put the case
+before her. Perhaps she can manage to teach her boys herself till you
+come back. Be strong-minded, my dear. Refuse to worry, and things will
+smooth themselves out."
+
+Lady Alicia certainly worked wonders. She went out into the village the
+next day, arranging what part of Joan's duties should be undertaken by
+the schoolmistress, and enlisting Miss Borfield's help as well. Mrs.
+Blount was flattered by a visit from her, but announced her intention
+of sending her boys to school.
+
+"Their father fully meant them to go this term, but we did not like to
+take them away from Miss Adair. She has taught them splendidly, and I
+am very grateful to her. My husband was only saying yesterday that she
+ought to go away for a thorough rest and change. He met her on her way
+to station, and thought her looking shockingly ill. I am sure he will
+be very glad to hear that you are taking her away."
+
+Then Lady Alicia came back to the rectory, and had a very long talk
+with Cecil about helping her father in Joan's absence and keeping down
+expenses.
+
+Cecil was at first airily indifferent; then she grew hot and indignant,
+and, finally, her better self prevailed.
+
+"I never can make money go far—it slips through my fingers like water;
+but I'll just keep things going till Joan comes back. She does deserve
+a holiday; I know she ought to have it. I dare say it will be easier to
+do things when she is away than when she is here. Anyhow, I am not a
+fool, and Sophia is a host in herself. We shall manage."
+
+Lastly, Lady Alicia talked to Mr. Adair, and before she left, he
+arranged with Cecil that he should give her a dress allowance, which
+allowance she was not to exceed.
+
+On Tuesday, Lady Alicia and Joan set off for Ballyclunny, in the north
+of Ireland.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+A VISIT TO IRELAND
+
+IT had been raining all day, but when the little local train drew up at
+the station, the sun was shining through the clouds, and every tree and
+bush held thousands of diamond points of wet glistening in the golden
+rays.
+
+The soft, moist air was refreshing to the travellers, who were both
+tired. An antiquated landau was waiting outside for them, and when Lady
+Alicia suggested that it should be opened, the old coachman looked very
+troubled.
+
+"The colonel's lady has never ridden with her head bare to the heavens,
+me lady. Sure, the fastenin's will be rusted entoirely; but if so be
+that Mr. Murdoch here will put his shoulder to the cratur, we'll be
+able to open her between us."
+
+Then, in a loud aside, he ejaculated: "May the Holy Virgin kape a hold
+of me coat tails, for me body as it is be burstin' through!"
+
+Joan laughed out, and Lady Alicia said that she would not trouble them
+to open it if it was so difficult. But the station-master, Mr. Murdoch,
+was hot and impetuous; he called two porters, and the four men threw
+themselves upon the vehicle, where they wrestled and talked and swore
+to such an extent that Joan thought they were indulging in a free
+fight. At last it was wrenched open, and Pat McQuick, the old coachman,
+mounted his box again in triumph. But the seams of his coat justified
+his fears, and the neck of it was ripped open in more places than one.
+
+"We are true to our traditions," said Lady Alicia, laughing softly.
+"After our immaculate English servants, these give us rather a shock.
+I have lived so little in Ireland that I have not had much personal
+experience of it; but my friends tell me it is impossible to keep their
+servants tidy. Of course, in the towns it is different, and in the big
+houses; but my house is very old and very primitive. I wonder what you
+will think of it?"
+
+"I shall love every inch of it," said Joan enthusiastically.
+
+They drove along a flat, marshy moor; the wild duck and peewits seemed
+to have it to themselves. Then they came to woods, climbed a steep
+hill, and there had the most lovely view of the blue ocean below them.
+
+"I did not know you were near the sea."
+
+"Three miles from it."
+
+Then they descended into a green valley, twisted in and out of some
+very narrow lanes, and eventually came to a cluster of cottages and
+a small church. Some barefooted children raced after the carriage
+cheering and gesticulating wildly.
+
+"That's a welcome to us," said Lady Alicia, smiling. "We are only just
+outside the village."
+
+They stopped at a very imposing-looking iron gate, flanked with massive
+pillars. There was a little lodge inside, and an old woman, curtsying
+deeply, opened the gate.
+
+Joan looked out with great interest as they drove up the avenue. Rather
+an overgrown shrubbery flanked it on either side, then they turned the
+corner and came out upon a large grass lawn. Two goats and a flock of
+chickens were perambulating across it. The house faced them. It was a
+little grey stone building, with a rose-covered veranda running along
+the front of it.
+
+To Joan it seemed very unassuming after the long avenue and pretentious
+entrance. The door was opened by a very stout, smiling woman in a red
+striped cotton dress and a large, coarse, white apron. She wore no cap.
+Lady Alicia knew her, and called her Biddy.
+
+"Glad we are to see you, me lady," she said; "but there's few enough
+to greet ye. The kornel an' his lady, well they just ran the house
+with meself an' me niece Mary; but sure it wasn't the kornel that
+was masther, but his valet—just a sojer man. And then there was the
+foine English maid that turned her nose upwards and her lips down,
+an' she an' the kornel's man—they just had very clever heads an' lazy
+bodies—for 'twas orders here and orders there, an' even Larry was under
+the cratur's thumbs!"
+
+Talking all the time, she led them into a stone-flagged hall, and
+then into a long, rambling room at the back of the house with quaint
+corners and recesses, and three casement windows opening into an untidy
+flower garden. There was a small fire lighted, and the room looked
+comfortable. It was furnished more for comfort than show, though it had
+some good pictures and china on the walls.
+
+"This is, or was, the drawing-room, Joan," said Lady Alicia. "You see
+we shall not be in luxury, but it makes a cosy living-room. We have a
+dining-room and small morning-room besides; but if the weather is fine,
+we must spend most of our time out of doors. Now, Biddy, how soon can
+you give us something to eat? And then we will go to bed early, for we
+are very tired."
+
+Biddy assured them that dinner could be served in half an hour,
+and then she took them up a broad, shallow flight of stairs to the
+bedrooms. They lay on both sides of a wide corridor running the length
+of the house, and Joan was delighted with her room. She could catch a
+glimpse of the sea from her windows, and roses were climbing the wall
+outside and scenting her room with their fragrance. When she came down
+to dinner later, Lady Alicia said:
+
+"Why, Joan, you are already looking rested; what have you been doing to
+yourself?"
+
+"Nothing," said Joan, laughing, "except that I have thrown off the
+burden of housekeeping and responsibility, and mean to enjoy every
+minute of my time here."
+
+"We will lead the simple life. I have great confidence in Biddy, for I
+have known her since she was a girl. I really came over to see who I
+could place here as caretakers. If she and her niece will stay on, I
+could not do better. But I see I shall have to have some repairs done.
+It is an old house, and wants a good deal of attention from time to
+time."
+
+They enjoyed their simple little dinner, and then, as the evening was
+fine, they wandered round the old garden. Joan felt as if she were in
+a dream. She had not left home for so long that she loved the very
+novelty of a fresh atmosphere and environment. And it was a real treat
+to be able to confide in her godmother and receive her sympathy and
+counsel. It almost seemed unreal to her to be absolutely detached from
+duty, and be able to indulge in rest and recreation just as she felt
+inclined.
+
+Lady Alicia looked after her well. She sent her early to bed, and told
+her that breakfast would be served to them in their rooms.
+
+"Then you can sleep on, if you like. We need not meet till lunch time."
+
+But, tired though she was, Joan was not fond enough of her bed to
+stay there. And very early the next day found her out in the garden,
+making friends with the horses and dogs in the stable, listening to old
+Larry's yarns of bygone days, and at last settling down on a charming
+old seat on a knoll overlooking a wide expanse of country and the ocean
+upon the horizon. Here she sat for a full hour with her hands loosely
+clasped in her lap and her eyes and thoughts far-away.
+
+The soft air fanned her brow. There was the scent from a sweet brier
+hedge close to her, and a waft of burning peat and wood from the
+chimneys of the house.
+
+Her thoughts flew back home. "What was Cecil doing? Would she remember
+that this was the day for ordering the groceries and that the village
+women came to the vestry to pay in their club money? Would Mr. Adair
+remember that clerical meeting in the afternoon? And would Benson
+remember to earth up the potatoes and mend the orchard fence?"
+
+Then she gave herself a mental shake and began to think of some nature
+studies that were simmering in her mind. But very soon her mind was
+back in the old rectory. Would Wilmot Gascoigne be continuing to come
+there? Was there a fragment of truth in the village gossip? Was it
+possible that Cecil was learning to care for him? And if Wilmot really
+cared for her, would it be a good match for them both? Again she
+determined not to worry. Lady Alicia came out in a few minutes to find
+her.
+
+"I wonder if you would like to drive out to the sea this afternoon,"
+Lady Alicia said. "I must go over the house with Biddy and do a good
+deal of business with her; but Larry could drive you down in the pony
+trap. There is a fat pony out at grass who wants to be exercised, and
+the coast is lovely; I am sure you would enjoy it."
+
+Joan was delighted at the idea, and at two o'clock she set off in a
+jingle. Larry used a good deal of whip and tongue before the pony could
+be persuaded to settle into a steady trot; but time was no object, and
+Joan was so interested in everything which she saw that she was in no
+hurry to end the drive.
+
+Once a motor whizzed past them.
+
+Larry gave an indignant snort.
+
+"Bad luck to those that use 'em!" he said vindictively. "Me son's wife
+have lost foive pigs this very year, an' sorra a bit did the craturs
+giv' her for the slaughter of 'em, for she were seven mile from town,
+an' the police never got in toime to tak the number, an' they just tore
+on for all they were worth! 'Tis one of the things we hope for when
+this Home Rule comes, that them motors be kep' under strict control of
+police."
+
+"But I thought they were! What else do you expect Home Rule to do for
+you, Larry? I thought you were all against it up here."
+
+"'Tis like this, Miss. There be a lot of injustice to us Oirish, and
+I were born in Cork and be a strict Catholic. The priests tell us the
+good old times be comin' back, an' I believe 'em. An' we shall have
+a king an' parlyment all of our own one day, an' money will run the
+streets like water, they say. A gran' toime be comin'!"
+
+He shook his head slowly from side to side.
+
+Joan did not attempt to argue with him; she drew him on to talk, and
+when they came out upon miles of rough moorland by the sea, she left
+off talking to enjoy the scene before her.
+
+At last, she got out of the jingle, told Larry to wait for her, and
+made her way down to the beach. The tide was out. Great waves in the
+distance dashed and foamed over long reefs of rock; the golden sand
+with its seaweed and shells proved an enticing place to Joan. She
+wandered on, meeting nobody, and revelling in her solitude.
+
+Suddenly she turned a corner, and heard a child's shrill cry for help.
+Looking out upon a rock close to the sea, she saw a small figure waving
+a handkerchief. She set off running towards it, and saw it was a tiny
+girl quite surrounded by the sea. The tide was evidently on the turn,
+and had crept in round her before she had noticed her peril. She was
+tugging at something which was evidently caught in a wedge of the rock.
+Joan wasted no time in thought. She pulled off her shoes and stockings,
+tucked up her skirts, and walked right in, till she reached the child.
+She was surprised to find the water reach her knees.
+
+"My fis' net! My fis' net! A nas'y cwab has got it in his teef!" the
+child cried excitedly.
+
+Joan made a grab at the stick, and with a jerk pulled up a shrimping
+net; then she lifted the little girl in her arms and waded back into
+safety. Putting her down on the sand, she said:
+
+"Now, where's your nurse? You might have been drowned."
+
+"Yes," nodded the small girl. "I screamed and screamed because the
+wicked sea ran at me so quick, and I couldn't and couldn't get my fis'
+net out of that hole! And then I see'd you, and I waved my hanky, and
+then you comed. And now I'll go back and sit down where Uncle Randal
+putted me. He'll be coming soon, but poor Rory hurted his foot and it
+bleeded, and he was carrying him to the car."
+
+"Your uncle ought not to have left you on the beach alone," said Joan
+severely.
+
+"I did pwomise him I wouldn't move; but then—why then—well, I had to,
+for a little cwab ran away from me, and I followed him, and then I
+forgot!"
+
+She trotted across the sand—a dear little barefooted mite in white
+jersey and cap and a rough serge frock, with a crop of golden curls and
+mischievous, sparkling face.
+
+Joan stayed to slip into her shoes and stockings, then leisurely
+followed her. By the time she reached her, a tall man had appeared down
+an opening in the cliff, and the little girl was gesticulating wildly
+in Joan's direction.
+
+Joan came up, then started in amazement, for the man strode towards her
+in no less surprise.
+
+It was Major Armitage.
+
+"Miss Adair, have you dropped from the skies?"
+
+"No, indeed I have not; have you?"
+
+"I brought my small niece for a motor ride. She inveigled me down to
+the sea; then our dog cut his foot, which necessitated my taking him
+back to the car, which is waiting for us above; and I find, as usual,
+she has nearly brought catastrophe upon herself by not doing as she was
+told. How on earth do you happen to be in these parts?"
+
+Joan told him. He listened with the greatest interest. He seemed more
+animated and in better spirits than when she had seen him last; but he
+did not compliment her upon her appearance.
+
+"You must have been ill," he said to her, "to lose your colour so! I
+have never seen you anything but radiant and blooming."
+
+"And now I am a haggard wreck," said Joan, laughing, the colour and
+light coming into her eyes and cheeks. "This is a very surprising
+encounter. Of course, I knew you had gone to Ireland; but my mind has
+been so engrossed with difficulties at home that I never thought of
+associating you with this part. You know Lady Alicia, do you not?"
+
+A shadow came over his face at once.
+
+"I have never met her, though she has often stayed at my brother's. She
+is charming, I believe. We are about twenty miles away; that is nothing
+to us, for my sister keeps a car. We will come over and call."
+
+Then he looked down upon his little niece. "Sheila, this lady who
+rescued you just now is an old friend of mine. Kiss her and thank her
+for what she has done for you."
+
+"I don't call her old at all, at all!" responded Sheila quickly, then
+she sprang lightly up and seized hold of Joan round the neck, and gave
+her a hug. "She's my fren' as well as yours, Uncle Randal, but I shan't
+call her old as you do. She's young—quite young, like Mummy!"
+
+"May I say what a pleasure it is to see you again," said Major
+Armitage, letting his eyes dwell on Joan in almost a tender way. "The
+one bright memory of Old Bellerton is my evenings in the church on
+Sunday, and supper at the rectory afterwards. I have felt such a long
+way off from you all that the sudden sight of you is a very delightful
+experience."
+
+"We have missed you very much," Joan said quietly, looking up; and then
+she turned again to the child, for somehow or other she was shy of
+meeting his eyes.
+
+"I can't conceive how Lady Alicia managed to spirit you away. What will
+they do without you? You were indispensable to everybody."
+
+"I'm afraid I thought so; but I'm not at all, and Cecil is home now,
+and she is looking after things. I was cross, and slack, and very
+unpleasant after my attack of 'flu,' and I dare say they are glad to
+get rid of me!"
+
+"Look here, how are you going back? Can't I offer you a seat in my car?
+I'll run you to Ballyclunny in no time."
+
+"Thank you, but I must return the same way I came. Old Larry would feel
+quite hurt if I were to desert him. He is the old coachman, and has
+driven me here in a small jingle. He let me know that it was a great
+favour to have his company; and said that it was only because I was
+fresh to 'Oireland' that he had come with me himself instead of sending
+the boy. I can't give you his accent, but he said I was the very divil
+for getting information, and he was the only one in that part of the
+country who could give it to me!"
+
+She laughed merrily as she shook hands with the Major. He smiled, then
+grew grave.
+
+"I hope you did not get wet in rescuing this naughty child? I blame
+myself for having left her. I am really deeply grateful to you, and so
+will her mother be, when she hears of her escapade."
+
+"I did very little."
+
+Then glancing at the laughing, dancing child, she said:
+
+"I am so glad you have a small niece, Major Armitage. Children are an
+exhilarating tonic."
+
+"And you think I wanted one? I am not a man who sits down with a broken
+backbone when life deals him blows. When I left your part of the world,
+I closed and sealed a chapter in my life. Here I am in a fresh one."
+
+He spoke bravely, but in the tired, weary lines upon his face he
+carried the stamp of suffering. And when Joan had left him and was
+jogging home behind the fat pony, she wondered if he would ever be
+quite the same man again.
+
+Lady Alicia was very interested when she heard of the encounter.
+
+"You are not able to get away from your Old Bellerton friends even
+here. I had forgotten he had a married sister. What is her name?"
+
+"I think she married a Mr. Donavan."
+
+"Oh, I know! The Donavans have a beautiful old place about twenty miles
+away. Well, how strange! But I am not sure that I like your being drawn
+back into your old atmosphere. I wanted you to have a complete break
+from it."
+
+"Oh, we are not likely to meet very often. Major Armitage is not fond
+of society."
+
+Lady Alicia looked in a meditative fashion at Joan, then shook her head.
+
+To herself she said:
+
+"The man that prefers one woman to many is dangerous!"
+
+
+Two days afterwards a car drove up.
+
+Mrs. Donavan and Major Armitage were announced. Meta Donavan was a
+bright, vivacious little woman. She took hold of Joan by both hands and
+said:
+
+"I feel inclined to kiss you! You saved my darling from what might have
+been a watery grave. And I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Of
+course, I have heard of you, and I pictured you a Madonna and a saint.
+You look quite like an ordinary being! Saints don't have dimples. I
+congratulate you upon that possession!"
+
+Joan could not help laughing. Then, as Major Armitage was talking to
+Lady Alicia, Mrs. Donavan gave a little nod in his direction.
+
+"How do you think he is looking? I flatter myself Sheila and I have
+done him a world of good. Be came up here looking like a ghost. I could
+hardly get a word out of him; but I never rested till I got him at my
+piano, which happens to be a very good one, and then he relaxed, and I
+won a smile out of him!"
+
+Joan wondered if she was her brother's confidante. She hardly thought
+so, but she could well understand that she would win her way with
+anybody.
+
+And then presently whilst tea was being got ready, they sauntered
+out into the untidy garden, and Joan and Major Armitage were thrown
+together.
+
+"Are you coming back to us again?" she asked when he had been asking
+for village news.
+
+He gave a little shudder.
+
+"God forbid! I told you that bit of my past is sealed."
+
+"But what are you going to do about your house?"
+
+"I'm never going to live in it again."
+
+Joan looked grave.
+
+"Your tenants will be sorry. Are you going to sell it?"
+
+"No; at least, I have not made up my mind."
+
+"I am very inquisitive," said Joan apologetically; "you must forgive
+me. I get so very interested over everyone that I almost regard their
+affairs as mine, which is most foolish."
+
+"Not at all," said Major Armitage quickly. "You are a friend. You have
+a right to ask me questions. If things became quieter over here, my
+sister would like to leave Ireland for a time. Then I thought she might
+like to have my old house. And I shall perhaps go abroad or drift into
+club life in London."
+
+"Oh!" said Joan impulsively. "You talk as if you have no object in your
+life."
+
+"I don't think I have."
+
+"But your music! Your music!" she cried. "You must not lay that gift
+aside. If you do not compose, you can play. And you like Church music.
+If I had your gift, I would take some big post as organist and would
+speak to souls with my music. Oh, Major Armitage, you have not given up
+your music?"
+
+He looked down upon her and smiled.
+
+"I wish I could have you always near me to rouse me from my lethargy
+and inspire me! I think one needs to be very happy, or very miserable,
+to produce good music. And over here I have been living a day at a
+time, refusing to think at all deeply, or do more than enjoy the
+present. But I don't mean to give up my music. You are quite right
+there. And already I am being pestered to return to town and undertake
+several things there. But for the present, I am looking after my
+sister's estate for her. It badly needs a man upon it."
+
+"And brains," said Joan, smiling. "I do acknowledge the superiority
+of your sex. I might have known you would not be idle. Forgive my
+impertinence."
+
+Then the others joined them, and they went indoors to tea.
+
+Mrs. Donavan insisted that they should come over to lunch in two days'
+time, and this they did. Joan thoroughly enjoyed the day. It was one of
+the very few old houses in Ireland which had not been allowed to suffer
+decay, and the gardens were beautifully kept. She thought Mrs. Donavan
+must be a very happy woman till she took her up to the top of a turret
+tower to see the view, and then leaning her arms on the parapet the
+young widow gazed away to the distant country with misty eyes.
+
+"Oh!" she cried. "For a log cabin and a man to take care of me!
+Miss Adair, you were saying just now you envied me my home. I have
+come to see that no environment compensates for the loss of close
+companionship. I have been a lonely miserable woman since my husband
+died, and if civil war comes to our poor country, I will almost welcome
+the opportunities I shall have of doing and denying myself in the great
+cause. I am tired and sick of comfort and prosperity. I am not made for
+it, unless I have someone I love to share it with me."
+
+"You have your brother now."
+
+"Yes," and her face sparkled through its tears. "I can't tell you what
+he has been to me! He has had his trouble, poor fellow! The world is
+full of it, but as I tell him, his bliss was snatched away from him
+before he tasted it. I tasted mine to the full, and the miss of it is
+agony!"
+
+Then she shook off her emotion, and after that one glimpse of a hidden
+self, Mrs. Donavan relapsed into her usual sparkling and charming
+gaiety. Major Armitage was in a quiet, grave mood. Joan did not see
+much of him, for Sheila claimed her as an old friend, and carried her
+off to see her pets and her own little garden.
+
+When they were driving home, Joan said to Lady Alicia:
+
+"I think if I were given very favourable circumstances, I should live a
+very lazy self-indulgent life. I do love spending my days in idleness."
+
+"You are resting now. I should not be afraid for you, Joan. Life is too
+real to you to waste."
+
+Joan shook her head doubtfully.
+
+"I don't want to go home and settle down in the old routine. You
+don't know how I chafe against it, Lady Alicia. I am so weary of it,
+and Cecil tries my patience, and I even get fretted by my father's
+continual cheerful optimism!"
+
+"You must remember you have been ill. You will feel quite differently
+soon. I would remind you of a favourite text of yours which will be
+made your experience, and has been, has it not? 'Strengthened with
+all might, according to His glorious power, unto all patience and
+long-suffering with joyfulness.'"
+
+Joan drew a long sigh.
+
+"My dear child, 'being' is as important as 'doing' in God's sight. A
+life lived consistently is a sermon in itself. Think of Cecil and of
+Banty Gascoigne. Both watching you, both keenly conscious when you fail
+in gentleness and patience. Are they not worth winning?"
+
+"I feel it would need a miracle to alter Cecil," Joan said despondently.
+
+There was a pause, then Lady Alicia said: "I want you to go back
+invigorated and refreshed, and I expect you will. But you are not ready
+yet either in mind or body."
+
+And Joan found that Lady Alicia was right. As the days sped on and
+she found her keenness and energy return to her, thoughts of her home
+duties no longer oppressed her. She revelled in the simple outdoor life
+she was leading, and drew fresh health from her surroundings. When next
+Major Armitage met her, he complimented her on the improvement in her
+appearance.
+
+"It is the Irish air," she said, laughing. "I can no longer pretend
+that I am an invalid."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE CHURCH IN THE HILLS
+
+"SUCH a long letter from Cecil!"
+
+Joan spoke joyfully. The post had come in rather later than usual. It
+was a lovely morning in June. Joan had met the postman in the avenue,
+and had just settled herself under a shady beech tree on the lawn to
+enjoy her letters. Lady Alicia took a chair, too, under the tree. She
+had a fair-sized packet of letters in her hand.
+
+Joan had troubled over Cecil's silence. She had only written to
+her once, and that was a hurried line. Mr. Adair was not a good
+correspondent, and though he gave her parish news, the little details
+of daily life at the rectory were not mentioned. She glanced at the
+closely written sheets in delight, and then caught her breath in
+astonishment and almost dismay.
+
+Lady Alicia looked up.
+
+"No bad news, I trust?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know. I suppose it is only my fears come true. Cecil
+writes to tell me that she is engaged to Wilmot Gascoigne."
+
+Lady Alicia did not speak. Joan went on hurriedly reading her letter.
+None of the details for which she craved were there; only a long
+dissertation on love and marriage and the description of Wilmot in the
+light of a devoted lover.
+
+"We are convinced that there is mental affinity between us," Cecil
+wrote. "I inspire him, he tells me, and to be the inspiration of such
+a genius is enough for me. It is not the common foolish love we feel
+for each other. It is intellectual appreciation, that soul to soul
+intercourse which is only understood by ourselves."
+
+Joan almost laughed as she read it. Then an anxious look came into her
+eyes.
+
+She finished her letter.
+
+"I don't think I shall be betraying confidence if I let you see it,"
+she said to Lady Alicia. "Cecil has no reserve in her nature. I expect
+she has told everyone by this time all she thinks and feels about her
+engagement."
+
+"I don't know that it is such a misfortune," said Lady Alicia. "They
+may suit each other. Cecil wants waking up. This may do it."
+
+"I am afraid I have lost my confidence in him," said Joan in a troubled
+voice. "I would not say this to anybody, but I know you will not
+misunderstand me. He came perilously near making love to me at one
+time. He would have done it in a moment if I had encouraged him. Oh, I
+hope, I hope he will be true to Cecil. I feel awfully afraid for her.
+And she is not accustomed to yield her will to another. He will be
+master. I am convinced of that."
+
+"Love makes all things easy," said Lady Alicia. "Yes; but Cecil's
+letter hardly gives me that hope. It is all so wordy, so analytical."
+
+Lady Alicia read the letter and handed it back in silence.
+
+Joan looked beseechingly at her.
+
+"Do tell me what you think."
+
+"I don't know Mr. Gascoigne, and I don't know what to think. It may be
+the best thing for Cecil. I don't think she would ever have settled
+down happily and contentedly in Old Bellerton."
+
+"No; I am sure she would not. She told me by hook or crook she would go
+abroad again in the autumn. I must write and offer my congratulations,
+I suppose."
+
+It was quite natural that Joan should feel a little sore at heart. It
+was not so very long ago that she was assured most fervently that she
+inspired and uplifted Wilmot's soul. Now he had transferred his liking
+to Cecil; and she could fancy from past experience that the passionate
+outpourings of his heart would be very pleasing and convincing to Cecil.
+
+She shook off forebodings which descended upon her, and wrote an
+affectionate, sisterly letter to Cecil. For the rest of the day she was
+distrait and depressed. Lady Alicia wisely left her alone. She knew
+that if Joan wished to talk to her, she would do it.
+
+
+In the afternoon, Major Armitage and his small niece arrived in the
+car. It was Sheila's birthday, and she had elected to come and tell
+Joan of it, for, as usual, Joan had won the child's heart.
+
+They all had tea together on the lawn. Joan watched the uncle and niece
+with amusement and astonishment. Sheila was a little autocrat, and the
+Major was as wax in her hands.
+
+She persuaded her elders to play hide and seek with her, and the
+formerly gloomy and solitary man was as agile in pursuing and being
+pursued across the lawn as his small niece.
+
+At last both Major Armitage and Joan refused to play any more, and they
+sank exhausted upon the garden seat.
+
+Sheila surveyed them pityingly.
+
+"You poor fings! I'm not a bit tired."
+
+Then, looking at them with her head on one side, she announced:
+
+"I've a picture of Daddy and Mummy sitting on a seat just like you;
+only Daddy has his arm round Mummy's neck."
+
+"Yes," said Joan hastily; "but we're not daddy and mummy, you see."
+
+"But couldn't you be another daddy and mummy and have a little girl
+just like me?" demanded Sheila.
+
+Joan's sense of humour overcame her embarrassment. She laughed
+outright, then jumped up and chased Sheila across the lawn to the house.
+
+Lady Alicia, from her chair under the tree, looked across at Major
+Armitage and smiled.
+
+"That is what I wish for you," she said. "You must forgive my
+impertinence."
+
+Major Armitage did not resent her speech, as he would have done a few
+months ago.
+
+"I have used up all my affections and emotions over an empty fancy," he
+said in a low, husky voice. "I have nothing left to give a woman now."
+
+"I don't know," Lady Alicia rejoined. "You have respect and liking;
+that is a good foundation for love. And as I get older, I see many
+happy marriages take place amongst very matter-of-fact, unemotional
+people."
+
+He made no reply, but his eyes followed Joan's figure in the distance;
+he watched her seat herself upon the low steps of the veranda and take
+Sheila in her arms.
+
+Lady Alicia said no more. When Joan and the child joined them again,
+conversation turned on Irish affairs.
+
+Presently Major Armitage said:
+
+"Where do you go to church on Sunday?"
+
+"We have to drive six miles," said Lady Alicia. "We go into the town."
+
+"Have you ever heard of a certain parson called Dantman? He has a
+little church away in the hills, and is a most remarkable preacher.
+My sister told me his story. He is a bit hot-tempered, and got into
+trouble with the priests in the south. I think it was in Cork that he
+drew crowds to hear him; and then there was a shindy of some sort, and
+the bishop gave him this little living and let him know he must accept
+it. They say the people walk for miles to hear him, and he has the most
+wonderful influence over them. My sister says he would draw tears from
+a stone. You ought to hear him. I believe it is as near you as it is to
+us—a matter of about fifteen miles."
+
+Lady Alicia laughed.
+
+"It always does amuse me to hear the airy way motorists speak of
+distances. How do you think we could manage to drive fifteen miles
+there and fifteen miles back?"
+
+"The fat pony would do it in a week," said Joan, laughing.
+
+"Let me call for you in the car next Sunday. The evening is the best
+time to hear him; only the car can't get to his church. There is a
+mile and a half walk across the hills, and the scenery is wild in the
+extreme."
+
+"Then what do you do with the car?"
+
+"We put it up at an inn the last time we went."
+
+"Your sister may want to go elsewhere."
+
+"Oh, I think she doesn't go out in the evening, as a rule. She did come
+with me once; but I shall drive the car myself; she's very good in
+letting me have it when I want it."
+
+"What do you say, Joan? It is very kind of Major Armitage to propose
+taking us. Would you like to go?"
+
+"It sounds delightful," Joan replied. "I should enjoy it very much."
+
+"Then I'll call for you at half-past five next Sunday," said Major
+Armitage.
+
+"Come to tea, won't you?"
+
+"Uncle Randal can't do that," said Sheila, shaking her curls
+disapprovingly. "He an' me spread each other's toast on Sunday. I
+couldn't do without him."
+
+"Then we will expect you to supper on our return," said Lady Alicia.
+
+"Thank you."
+
+The matter was settled, and when they had left Joan said:
+
+"I love to see Major Armitage with that child. He is almost boyish. It
+is a much better life for him than shut up alone with his music."
+
+"He ought to get married," Lady Alicia rejoined gravely. "I hope he
+will."
+
+Joan did not reply.
+
+When Sunday evening came, Lady Alicia, who had been struggling with a
+headache all day, told Joan that she was afraid she would not be up to
+the walk.
+
+"But there is no reason why you should not go," she said; "and then you
+will be able to tell me about it when you return."
+
+So when, at half-past five, Major Armitage drove up in his car, only
+Joan awaited him. He tucked her up comfortably in the rugs, and they
+started. It was a lovely evening, and as they sped through the lanes,
+bordered by verdant green meadows, and hedges over which the wild rose
+and honeysuckle rioted in lovely profusion, Joan drew a long breath of
+delight.
+
+"This will be a Sunday to remember," she said. "This day week I hope to
+be home again."
+
+"Are you really going so soon?"
+
+There was regret in Major Armitage's voice.
+
+"I want to go back, and I don't," said Joan, with her happy laugh.
+"This has been such an easy, peaceful time that I should like to
+prolong it; but I am well and strong, and feel able to tackle all my
+small difficulties with a light heart. Cecil wrote yesterday wanting me
+back. She is going up to town, for Wilmot Gascoigne will be there for
+some weeks, and she wants to go about with him."
+
+"I hardly like to ask you, but do you like that engagement?"
+
+"I suppose I must. Honestly, I am afraid of how it will turn out. But
+at present they appear very happy."
+
+It was odd, she thought, how few men liked Wilmot. She had never heard
+anyone praise him in a warm-hearted fashion.
+
+Major Armitage was silent for a few minutes; then he said, more as if
+he were speaking aloud his thoughts:
+
+"He is, at all events, better suited to her than to you."
+
+Joan was rather amused.
+
+"There was nothing of that sort between us," she said, "though I dare
+say the village gossiped over our employment together. The world in
+general cannot understand an ordinary business-like, matter-of-fact
+friendship between man and woman."
+
+"Oh, I heard no gossip," said Major Armitage hastily. "I rarely had
+intercourse with the outside world when I was at home. Looking back
+now, I see it was a mistake. I got wrapped up in visions and dreams, to
+my own detriment and hurt. Now I believe in the wisdom of the Almighty:
+'It is not good for man to be alone.'"
+
+"I don't believe a lonely life is good for any of us," said Joan
+slowly; "and it is so unnecessary. There are always so many who would
+be the better for our help and friendship, and for whom we should be
+the better too."
+
+"My sister has shaken into me a little of her practical sense. You see,
+since I left the Service and my trouble connected with my sight came to
+me, I shrank from everyone, and after a time, isolation became a habit
+which I could not break. I always count it as one of my blessings that
+your father was brought to my gates and laid up in my house. I think
+if I had not had your friendship, things would have gone badly with me
+later on. And—and, Miss Adair, I don't want to lose your friendship,
+for I have learnt to value it."
+
+Joan's heart gave a little throb. It told her then how much she valued
+his friendship; but she answered very simply:
+
+"You have it."
+
+There was silence between them. The car took them away now from the
+lanes across a wide expanse of moor; then hills appeared, and very
+shortly after they came to a standstill.
+
+A cluster of small cottages round a very dilapidated inn was the end of
+their drive. Major Armitage was welcomed by the landlord of the "Black
+Pig," who showed him a big shed, into which he could run his car.
+
+"Sure an' you'll be goin' to hear the praycher?" he ejaculated. "He's a
+holy sowl, if there be wan on this airth; but a powerfu' scaldin' hot
+dressin' he gives to the people, Oi can tell ye!"
+
+Joan and the Major were not long in starting up a narrow sheep-track
+across the hills. Here and there were little groups of the peasantry
+crossing the rough moorland. The sun was sending slanting rays across
+the hills, touching up here and there a little cluster of trees with
+golden glory.
+
+The stillness of the summer evening made Joan say thoughtfully:
+
+"I always think a summer Sunday evening the most delicious time in all
+the year. We might be away from the world altogether up here—caught up
+to receive a heavenly vision."
+
+Major Armitage looked at her with a smile.
+
+"That's rather good," he said. "I do hope you won't be disappointed in
+him."
+
+It was rough walking, but at last they emerged from their irregular
+stony pathway upon a level bit of ground; and there, tucked away in a
+copse of trees and brushwood, with a high cliff behind it, was a tiny
+iron church.
+
+"What an extraordinary place to build a church in!" exclaimed Joan.
+
+"It was built and endowed by a rich farmer. You will see the tablet to
+his memory in the church."
+
+They went inside. It was fast filling, and they took a seat just
+inside the door. The music was not very good. There was a wheezy
+harmonium, and no pretence at a choir. The congregation took a hearty
+part in singing and responses. It was just a very plain, simple little
+building; and John Dantman was at first sight a very commonplace little
+man.
+
+Yet when he mounted the pulpit, Joan saw that his eyes were magnetic in
+their compelling power, and his preaching thrilling in its force and
+reality. He did not rant or rave, he leant over his pulpit quietly, and
+seemed to search and speak to every individual soul before him. He took
+for his text:
+
+ "'Knowing the terror of the Lord, we persuade men.'"
+
+Very stern, unflinchingly true, and convincingly earnest was the first
+part of his sermon, but suddenly his voice broke and softened.
+
+"We persuade men," he said; "that is our vocation, we are not here to
+scold, to upbraid, to frighten. We have told you stern facts, that is
+all."
+
+And then followed such loving, persuasive pleading that Joan listened
+herself with a swelling heart, and when it was all over and she came
+out into the soft, summer air, she exclaimed:
+
+"Oh, Major Armitage, I feel a burning desire now to exercise a little
+of my persuasion upon others. It is quite true what you say. If we all
+believed earnestly what we profess to believe, we could not live so
+indifferently, and selfishly ignore the needs of those who have not
+grasped the truth. If I were a man! Oh, if I were a man!"
+
+She stopped, a little ashamed of her emotion.
+
+"What would you do?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know, the field would be so wide. I think I have wanted
+all my life to impart knowledge, to influence, to take a part in
+moulding the characters of the next generation. Teaching those younger
+than myself has always been before me. I have been distinctly shown
+that my sphere is to be in my own home, in a country village, learning
+lessons myself instead of teaching."
+
+"What kind of lessons?" asked Major Armitage, wishing to draw her out.
+
+"Lessons of patience and endurance and long-suffering with joyfulness,"
+she said in a low tone.
+
+Major Armitage was silent for a moment. Then he said:
+
+"Those are hard lessons for any of us. And very few of us attempt to
+learn them."
+
+They lapsed into silence.
+
+The going down was more difficult in the waning light than coming up.
+Joan was glad to take Major Armitage's offered arm. To her the memory
+of that evening would always remain with her. She had enjoyed every bit
+of it; she hardly liked to acknowledge to herself how happy she was in
+company with the man who walked beside her. From having had a deep pity
+for him, she found herself taking an absorbing and increasing interest
+in him. He never disappointed her in anything he said or did. They were
+very silent on their return journey. Just before they reached Lady
+Alicia's house Major Armitage said:
+
+"I am afraid this will be good-bye for the present. I have to go away
+for a few days on business for my sister, and when I return I shall
+find you flown, shall I not?"
+
+"Yes, I leave on Wednesday."
+
+"Will you remember me to your father? I wonder if you would send me
+occasional news of Old Bellerton? It would be a great pleasure to hear
+from you."
+
+"Certainly I will."
+
+Joan's voice had a little tremor in it.
+
+"Thank you."
+
+He said no more.
+
+And then they went indoors, and found Lady Alicia waiting to hear about
+their service.
+
+When Major Armitage took his departure a little later, he looked rather
+wistfully at Joan as he took her hand.
+
+"How glad your father will be to have you back again!" he said with
+emphasis.
+
+Joan laughed.
+
+"Yes, I think he will. He and I have lived so long together that we
+know each other's ways, and he says he is lost without me."
+
+"But he can't expect to keep you with him always."
+
+"Why not? I don't think anything will call me away from him. I feel my
+life is meant to be in that quiet corner, and I am going to be content."
+
+He looked at her, seemed as if he was about to speak, then shut his
+lips sternly and wrung her hand.
+
+And Joan felt when he had left, as if the sunshine had gone out of her
+heart, leaving it grey and empty and cheerless.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+CECIL'S ENGAGEMENT
+
+JOAN arrived home to find a good deal awaiting her. Cecil was in a
+fever to be away. She was going to stay with some friends of her
+mother's. Wilmot was already in town; Mr. Adair was not very well. He
+had got wet one day, and bronchitis, his old enemy, was hovering over
+him. Jenny had had words with Cecil, and had given notice. She was
+sullen when Joan spoke to her; and Sophia said that she was determined
+not to stay. Benson, the odd man, had become very slack in his work.
+The garden had suffered from having no superintendence, and weeds had
+grown apace. There had been friction between Miss Borwill and the
+schoolmistress at Sunday school, and two steady members of the choir
+had resigned.
+
+Joan found life bristling with difficulties; but she was her bright,
+capable self again, and tackled everything with a cheery spirit. She
+had expected to find a slack household under Cecil's rule, and so was
+not dismayed in consequence. Upon the night of her arrival, Cecil came
+into her room when she went up to bed, and regardless of Joan's fatigue
+kept her talking till past one o'clock.
+
+The question Joan asked at once was:
+
+"Is Mother's book finished?"
+
+"My dear Joan, how ridiculous! Of course it is not. Wilmot thinks that
+he must go out to the Riviera with a camera and get some snapshots.
+He says a book of that sort must be prettily illustrated, or it will
+not be attractive. And if—if we are married in November, we could go
+together to the Riviera. I shall never be able to winter in England, I
+know."
+
+"But is the writing of the book finished?"
+
+"Oh, no—not nearly. It shows how little you know about writing a book
+like that! We have done about half. I am persuading him to throw over
+these Gascoigne Chronicles. It is a never-ending task, and he works
+better in town, he tells me. I can quite believe it. The rush and throb
+of life there must stimulate and quicken your brains. This deadly
+country life paralyses one! He and I are thoroughly agreed upon that
+point."
+
+"Have you seen anything of Banty?"
+
+"Oh, of course. I was asked to the Hall to be thoroughly inspected and
+criticised. Banty has no manners—she is like a new-fledged schoolgirl.
+She never has a word to say for herself. Wilmot says she has no
+intelligence at all."
+
+"And you are really happy, Cecil?"
+
+"My dear Joan, I am not overwhelmed with ecstasy because I am going
+to be married. I have seen too much of men to expect much from them.
+But Wilmot and I understand each other, and I shall have the life that
+suits me; that is the main thing. I want you to speak to Father about
+money. I can't go up to town without a penny in my pocket; I may go to
+other friends whilst I am there. Everyone will soon be leaving town,
+and I want to take advantage of my opportunities. I can't possibly make
+my allowance cover my travelling expenses. And I dare say I shall be
+able to get some of my trousseau in town. I suppose Father intends to
+give me that, doesn't he?"
+
+"Oh, dear!" sighed poor Joan. "I do not see how Father can give you
+money at present. But I will talk to him and see what we can do."
+
+When Cecil eventually left her, Joan buried her face in her pillow with
+determination.
+
+"I won't worry. I'm going to trust. God will guide and provide."
+
+And her sleep was sound, unshadowed by any difficulties or troubles
+looming ahead.
+
+Mr. Adair found he was able to give Cecil what she required, and she
+left home in high spirits. She did not often write, so Joan was quite
+satisfied that she was enjoying herself, and went her way happily,
+helping her father in parish matters, making peace between those who
+were quarrelling, and finding time to send up to her editor one or two
+more short sketches from rural life.
+
+And then one day Derrick appeared. He walked in at luncheon time. Mr.
+Adair was away at a clerical meeting in the neighbouring town, and
+Joan, being alone, was lunching off bread and cheese and salad. But
+Sophia, who was always ready in an emergency, produced two grilled
+mutton chops and a savoury omelette, and Derrick did justice to both.
+
+"I'm not going to desert you, Joan, though you won't have anything to
+say to me. And as you look upon me as a brother, I have come down to
+give you a brother's hint. Have you heard from the Malingerer?"
+
+"Not for more than a fortnight. Why?"
+
+"Oh, I've been seeing a lot of her. And that rat Motty is going, in
+vulgar phrase, to chuck her!"
+
+"Oh, Derrick, don't speak so!"
+
+Pride for her sister, and hot indignation at such a supposition, made
+Joan's cheeks burn.
+
+"I tell you it's true! Why was she such a fool as to get infatuated
+with him? Now don't rear your head and look so lofty. I'm talking like
+a brother. I want you to warn her. Motty is as fickle as the wind!
+You found him out, didn't you? I was pretty sick when I heard the
+Malingerer had taken him on, for I knew it could only end one way. Have
+you seen Banty lately?"
+
+"No, she is away. I have not met her since I came home."
+
+"Well, I was asked down for a week-end whilst you were away, and old
+Jossy was in a fine stew. He couldn't get Motty to finish up his
+Chronicles. He has been at them three years, and they never get any
+forrarder. He runs some other book at the same time, and that gets all
+his time and attention. I think your mother's Riviera notes were too
+absorbing; those and the love-making together, and old Jossy spoke out
+straight, and told Motty unless he would stick to his work with him, he
+could go. So Motty packed his bag and walked off for good, leaving the
+Chronicles behind him."
+
+"Cecil never told me he had left his uncle's," said Joan, a troubled
+look coming into her eyes.
+
+"Didn't she? Well, I've seen a good bit of her in town, and I can tell
+you Motty is conspicuous by his absence. She can't understand it, and
+is getting restive. I happen to know that a rich American girl has got
+hold of him, and is running him for all she is worth. He goes about
+everywhere with her, but the Malingerer has only seen them together
+twice. Motty told her when she questioned him about it that she was
+a most clever photographer, and he had hopes of enlisting her in the
+cause of your mother's book. She had promised to give him some of her
+snapshots of the Riviera for it. I don't think the Malingerer quite
+swallowed it. Motty always has been wild to get to America, and I
+believe he'll be on the briny before the Malingerer knows where he is."
+
+"Do stop calling her the Malingerer," said Joan. "She is so much
+stronger now that we hear nothing about her health. Poor Cecil! I do
+hope that he will be true to her. It will break her heart."
+
+Derrick laughed.
+
+"Not a bit of it. Her heart isn't in it. I could tell that from the way
+she discussed him with me. I should like to get hold of Motty by the
+neck and shake him as a terrier does a rat!"
+
+"What can I do?" asked Joan helplessly.
+
+"Get her home again."
+
+"She won't come."
+
+"Can't you get an attack of the 'flu' again and go to bed and then wire
+to her?"
+
+"Oh!" said Joan impulsively. "How I wish you would marry her, Derrick!"
+
+Derrick's eyes danced.
+
+"Do you think she would have me? You know who I want to marry."
+
+"Oh, that is past. And just think, Derrick, how nice it would be to
+have you as a real brother! That is the position I want you to be in."
+
+"Your morals are deficient. She is an engaged girl at present."
+
+"I will write to her by this post," said Joan; "but I hardly know what
+to say."
+
+Joan never wrote that letter, for before Derrick left her that
+afternoon, she received a wire:
+
+ "Coming home this evening. Arrive six o'clock.—CECIL."
+
+Derrick was quite relieved.
+
+"They've had it out, then. He was to take her to some gallery
+yesterday. He had failed to keep two appointments with her, and I could
+see she meant to bring matters to a point. I might have spared myself
+the trouble of coming down, except that you're always such a 'sight for
+sore e'en.' Sophia says you're like a breeze in the house; I should say
+you stilled it. I suppose I had better make myself scarce. I'm sleeping
+at the Hall for a few nights. But if I can do anything for you, let me
+have a line before I go back to town. A horsewhipping or a ducking in
+the round pond would be too mild for him!"
+
+"You are thinking the very worst of him," said Joan. "They may have
+drawn closer together after meeting. I hope so."
+
+"Never!" said Derrick with conviction.
+
+Joan drove slowly along the leafy lanes to the station, thinking
+deeply. The old pony would not be hurried, and Joan let him take his
+own pace.
+
+She was wondering if Cecil had been disillusioned, and, if so, whether
+it would be a blessing to her or the reverse. She dreaded having her
+back embittered and disappointed. A rush of sympathy for her welled up
+in her heart. Cecil had gone to London careless, gay, and perfectly
+sure of her future; she was coming back perhaps empty and forlorn. Yet,
+when the train came in and the sisters met, Cecil looked much as usual.
+She was dressed in a grey linen dress, and wore a shady hat with violet
+pansies round it. She was already lightening her mourning for her
+mother. Joan was still in black.
+
+"Well, Cecil dear, welcome home! You have returned very suddenly."
+
+"Yes; it's too hot and airless in town. I can't stand it; and, of
+course, everybody is leaving."
+
+"Derrick made his appearance yesterday. He told me he had been seeing a
+good bit of you."
+
+"Yes. He is rather nice, isn't he? And knows the right people in town,
+which is a great thing."
+
+They chatted together on the way home on trivial matters. Cecil gave no
+hint of being disappointed or unhappy, and Joan came to the conclusion
+that all must be right with her.
+
+Mr. Adair was away for the evening, taking some festival service at a
+neighbouring church, so the girls had a quiet dinner, and, pleading
+fatigue, Cecil retired early to bed.
+
+One thing Joan noticed, and that was that Cecil did not mention
+Wilmot's name. She had not the courage to ask after him. She waited up
+for her father, who returned about ten o'clock. At half-past ten, just
+before finally bolting the front door, Joan stepped out upon the gravel
+path to inhale the sweet night air. Then she noticed that a light was
+still burning in Cecil's room, and knew that, though she had retired an
+hour and a half previously, she was still awake.
+
+As she went upstairs to bed, she debated with herself as to whether she
+should go to her sister.
+
+If Cecil had anything to tell, night was the best time for her to tell
+it.
+
+After a little hesitation, she went across the passage and knocked
+gently at her door.
+
+There was silence for a moment. The light was being extinguished, and
+then Cecil's voice spoke:
+
+"Come in."
+
+Joan slipped in and felt her way to the bedside in the dark.
+
+She put out her hand and touched Cecil's head.
+
+"Cecil dear."
+
+In a moment Cecil's arms, to her surprise, were put round her neck,
+drawing her down to her, and Joan was conscious that her own cheek was
+touching a very tear-stained one on the pillow.
+
+"I felt I must get back to you. You're always the same, and you'll
+understand and feel for me. It's all over between us. But I have broken
+it off, I'm thankful to say."
+
+A little sob broke her voice.
+
+"Tell me, dear. I was afraid of it."
+
+Cecil steadied her voice.
+
+"He treated me abominably, shamefully! I think when he was turned away
+from the Hall, he began to weigh me in the balance, and he certainly
+found me wanting in the matter of pounds, shillings and pence! Then he
+was taken up violently in town by some Americans, who have accepted
+him at his own valuation, and believe that he is a genius. He was more
+and more with them, and less and less with me. They are going to take
+him over to America, and arrange a tour of lectures for him, and, of
+course, he means to marry the daughter. I suppose I have discovered, as
+you did, that he is a gasbag, and has no grit or purpose in him. I am
+thankful for my escape, but oh, Joan, it humiliates and hurts! And I
+feel alone. I miss Mother, and—and—well, I'm desperately miserable!"
+
+Joan felt it all so pathetic that she mingled her tears with Cecil's.
+She asked presently about Mrs. Adair's notes.
+
+"He has really done very little to them. We must get them back. I did
+say something to him, but he says he will not let all his labour go
+for nothing. He says he has been spending his time and brains on other
+people's property, and will not be treated by us as he has been by his
+relations. As a matter-of-fact, I know Sir Joseph paid him handsomely.
+But what can we do, Joan? Could Derrick—?"
+
+"Yes; Derrick will tackle him," said Joan confidently; "and, if he
+goes to America, we must hope that we shall never see him again. Don't
+worry, dearest. I am glad that you have found him out before you were
+married to him. It would be so awful to be disillusioned afterwards."
+
+"I suppose everybody here will laugh at me, but 'I' have broken it off,
+Joan, remember!"
+
+"Yes," said Joan, almost smiling at Cecil's eagerness for that fact to
+be known. "I am afraid Wilmot has not many friends in this part, so I
+do not think you will be blamed."
+
+She stayed with her some time. She had never before seen Cecil so
+softened and affectionate, and longed to improve the occasion. Yet she
+felt tongue-tied until, just as she was saying good-night, Cecil said:
+
+"I felt quite thankful that you were at home, and not in Ireland. Oh,
+Joan, sometimes I wish I were good like you! Whatever comes to you
+makes you content and happy, and life is not happy to me. I hate my
+surroundings here; they make me miserable, and this dreadful want of
+money cripples one so. Don't you ever want to break away from it all?"
+
+"Often and often," was Joan's frank reply. "But it is good to be able
+to trust one's life to God, Cecil dear."
+
+If Joan expected Cecil to be a different girl after that evening's
+conversation, she was much mistaken. Cecil was exceedingly irritable
+and exacting in the days which followed. She would not leave the house
+or grounds, and shrank from seeing visitors. She lay in bed late, and
+spent most of her days in a hammock in the garden, complaining of the
+heat, and flies, and other annoyances.
+
+Derrick paid a flying visit before leaving for town, and, though Cecil
+tried to escape him, they met in the hall. He put out his hand at once.
+
+"My fervent congrats.!" he said. "Joan has told me. I never could
+congratulate you before, you know. I admire your pluck. My fingers,
+figuratively, are tingling to be at his throat. May I call on him in
+town and get that book of your mother's from him? I was able to help
+Joan in her difficulty with him, and I'll do the same for you."
+
+Cecil at first received his speech with haughty head and stony face,
+but Derrick's sunny, genial manner always won his cause. Her whole
+demeanour softened; she threw her pride to the winds.
+
+"Oh, Derrick, I'll love you for ever if you get it from him! He'll
+never finish it! I know he never will."
+
+Derrick nodded.
+
+"You must have someone to do battle for you, and Motty and I understand
+each other perfectly. What a good for nothing scoundrel he is!"
+
+In a fortnight's time, Cecil received a registered packet by post. It
+was the MS. And without another word she put it into Joan's hands.
+
+"Don't let me see it again. Do what you like with it without asking me."
+
+So Joan had her heart's desire, and put all her spare time to it.
+
+
+Then one day she received from Ireland a packet of roughly scored music
+and a note.
+
+ "DEAR MISS ADAIR,—I am still waiting to hear from you. I want you to
+try enclosed upon the organ, and tell me what you think of it as an
+anthem. We shall not soon forget the words. Does the music represent
+the force and beauty of them sufficiently? I wish I could hear you
+take the soprano part. Remember me to your father. Music seems out
+of place in this country at present. It is seething with discord and
+hot rage. The memory of our evening walk together is like a far-away
+melody.—Yours in true friendship,—
+
+ "RANDAL ARMITAGE."
+
+Joan took the anthem down to the church when her day's work was over.
+
+The music, as she expected, was lovely. First, the crashing thunder,
+then the exquisitely soft and beautiful pleading. Joan felt her heart
+stirred and swayed by its power and pathos. And when she tried to
+sing it, she felt a longing to sing it to some tired, wayward hearts.
+"Knowing the terror of the Lord, we persuade men."
+
+"What a gift he has!" she thought, when at last she closed the organ
+and came through the dusky garden to the house. "And now I must write
+to him. I ought to have done so before."
+
+She wrote a bright, natural, chatty letter, telling him all the village
+news which she thought might interest him; and then she mentioned the
+anthem:
+
+ "I can't tell you how much I like it and how much it brings back to
+me! As I hear the music, I shall always see that little Irish church
+amongst the hills, with the ignorant, expectant faces all round us,
+and the wonderful stillness, with the one human voice speaking to and
+stirring our souls. Are you going to have it printed? I do hope you
+will.—Yours most sincerely,—
+
+ "JOAN ADAIR."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+BANTY'S ACCIDENT
+
+"MISS JOAN, have you heard the news?"
+
+Sophia burst into the dining-room one morning about eleven o'clock.
+Joan was busy dressmaking. She was not a very good hand at it, but she
+was now, with knitted brows, cutting out a serge skirt for herself, and
+she looked up just a little impatiently at the interruption.
+
+"Is it another baby, or has one of the villagers come in for a fortune?"
+
+"Miss Gascoigne at the Hall has been killed by a horse she was riding!"
+
+Joan dropped her scissors on the table with a clatter.
+
+"Sophia! What do you mean? It can't be true!"
+
+"It is, then. The butcher's boy brought the news, and he has come
+straight from the Hall. They were carrying her in before he left."
+
+Joan's face was absolutely colourless. She stood staring at Sophia in
+horror.
+
+"Banty? She was only here yesterday, and she asked me to have tea in
+the pine wood with her to-morrow! Oh, Sophia, it must be a mistake."
+
+Sophia shook her head gloomily.
+
+"She was exercising a young horse in the paddock, the boy said, and he
+bucked and threw her against the stone wall."
+
+"I don't believe it," said Joan.
+
+"Don't believe what?"
+
+Cecil asked the question as she sauntered into the room. She had only
+just left her bedroom.
+
+Joan blurted out Sophia's news, and Cecil was stricken dumb for a
+moment. Then she recovered herself.
+
+"It's only a report. She is, most likely, stunned for the time. Is
+Father in?"
+
+"No. I shall go and inquire at once."
+
+Joan dashed out of the room, seized her garden hat, which was hanging
+up in the hall, and set off at a quick run down the village.
+
+Bad news travels fast. There were knots of women at their doors; two
+men she met both assured her it was a terrible accident, but knew no
+more; everybody was conjecturing and discussing the event. It was long
+since the quiet village had been thrown into such a ferment.
+
+"I seed two magpies only this morning; I knowed somethin' were comin'."
+
+"'Twas strange her passin' the remark to me only yesterday when she saw
+gran'ma: 'Well,' she says, 'I only hope,' she says, 'I shan't live till
+I can do nothing but sit and smile in a chair,' she says. She be always
+so blunt in her way, but she had a good heart, that she had!"
+
+Scraps of conversation like this came to Joan's ears as she passed by.
+She was determined to get at the truth, and would not even stop at the
+lodge, but pressed on up the drive as fast as her breath and feet could
+carry her. She saw the old family butler.
+
+"She's alive, miss," he said in answer to her question, "but we don't
+know how long she will be. There is complications, they say. We've
+wired for two nurses and a London doctor, and Dr. Blount is upstairs
+now."
+
+"I will call again," said Joan. "Will you tell Lady Gascoigne that I am
+ready to do anything for her if she wants help in any way?"
+
+Then she went home with lingering steps. It seemed so impossible for
+Banty to be ill: Banty, who had always boasted of her superb health,
+and had never stayed indoors in the roughest weather! Joan longed to
+know details.
+
+Later in the day her father called at the Hall, and Lady Gascoigne saw
+him. She told him as much as she knew herself: how Banty was exercising
+a young hunter, and was thrown against a stone wall as she cantered
+round the field. She was picked up unconscious; her head was badly
+bruised, her right wrist broken, but the most serious injury was to her
+right leg and thigh. They hoped now there were no internal injuries.
+The London doctor was hopeful of her recovery, but feared she might
+have to lose her leg.
+
+When Joan heard this, her heart sank within her. If Banty lost her leg,
+she would never be able to ride and hunt again; and that was her life.
+
+
+As the days went on, it seemed very doubtful whether poor Banty would
+pull through; and when her leg was finally amputated above the knee,
+she turned her face, like Ahab, to the wall, and refused to eat. "Let
+me die! I want to die!" was her cry.
+
+At last, in despair, her parents sent for Joan. She obeyed the summons
+promptly, but was shocked at the change in Lady Gascoigne, who was bent
+and feeble and seemed ten years older. Tears were in her eyes as she
+greeted Joan.
+
+"Oh, Joan, you must help us! She is our only child. She won't try to
+live. She seems as if she is stricken dumb. She will not answer us or
+take the slightest notice of anything we say to her. But this morning I
+said, 'I must get Joan Adair to come and persuade you,' and she turned
+her poor eyes round and looked at me.
+
+"'Get her,' she said; and those are the first words she has spoken for
+two days.
+
+"She was so fond of you. Perhaps you may be able to influence her."
+
+"May I see her alone?" Joan asked.
+
+"Of course you may if you wish it. But she seems quite oblivious as to
+whether there are few or many in the room."
+
+"I would rather be alone with her," Joan persisted.
+
+She was led upstairs to Banty's bedroom. A nurse opened the door.
+
+"I think she is sleeping," she said softly. "I want her to take some
+beef tea, but it is difficult."
+
+"Will you let me be alone with her for a little?" Joan asked.
+
+The nurse demurred, then gave way, but asked Joan not to stay long and
+not to excite her.
+
+Then into the sick room Joan went. Banty was lying back on her pillows.
+Her face was sharpened by suffering, her eyes were closed. Joan bent
+down softly and kissed her forehead. Then, as Banty's eyes opened
+slowly, she smiled at her.
+
+"Here I am, Banty."
+
+Banty gazed at her in silence. Joan's fresh, fair face, with her
+sunshiny, dimpling smile, seemed quite out of place in that room. But
+Banty found her voice.
+
+"Lock them all out!" she said tersely and sharply.
+
+Without any demur, Joan walked to the door and tuned the key in the
+lock. Then she drew up a chair to the bedside, and seated herself upon
+it.
+
+"Now we are alone," she said.
+
+A flicker of a smile passed over Banty's face. "They've never left me,
+night or day," she said.
+
+Joan put out her hand and took hold of Banty's caressingly.
+
+"And I've been thinking of you night and day," she said quite
+cheerfully. "But, before we have a chat together, do drink this beef
+tea, will you, or else the nurse will be back to give it to you."
+
+Banty raised herself a little on the pillows. Joan tucked another
+pillow behind her, and saw every drop of the beef tea disappear. She
+was not in a hurry to speak, so she waited in silence till Banty said,
+slowly and haltingly:
+
+"They talk over me, and cry over me, and bewail my lot till I feel
+nearly mad. The parents' faces nearly reach to the ground! The nurses
+put on their nurse's cheeriness and talk to me as if I am just born!"
+
+Joan laughed. She could not help it, though her heart was aching for
+the girl in bed.
+
+Banty looked up gratefully.
+
+"Laugh again! I'd forgotten there was any laughter left in the world.
+I've been tied up in this bed at their mercy. I can't—can't get away
+from them."
+
+A rebellious, untamed soul looked out of her anguished eyes.
+
+Joan pressed her hand sympathetically. Then she spoke:
+
+"Look here, Banty, I've promised not to excite you. I'll talk as much
+as ever you like, but if I'm to come again, I must not make you worse.
+I haven't told you yet—"
+
+"Don't you pity me! Don't you say you're sorry for me. I'm fed up with
+that."
+
+"I won't. It goes without saying."
+
+"Thank goodness you can speak in your natural voice!"
+
+"Well, now, I'm going to be quite natural. You have to get out of this
+bed as quickly as you can. I can quite imagine the prison it has been
+to you. I shall expect you very soon to come along to the pine woods in
+a bath-chair, and then we can spread a rug on the ground, and you shall
+lie on it and throw cones at the squirrels, whilst I make a fire and
+boil the tea."
+
+Banty drew a quick breath. She looked up at Joan with wistful longing.
+
+"Will you manage it for me?"
+
+"You will have to do that. Feed yourself up, get strong and cheerful,
+and send your nurses about their business. As long as you are weak,
+they must be with you. The remedy is in your own hands."
+
+Banty gazed at Joan without speaking; then she said:
+
+"Do you know what Father did when he was last in my room? Crept to that
+drawer over there, and took away my pet revolver. He thought I didn't
+see him. I did. It was my one hope from the time they told me my fate."
+
+"Then I'm glad he took it," said Joan stoutly. "You never have been a
+coward, Banty, and you won't be one now."
+
+Banty did not reply.
+
+Then came a knock at the door. She scowled.
+
+"Let them knock! This is the first bit of peace I've had. They had me
+in their power."
+
+Joan crossed the room and unlocked the door. It was one of the nurses.
+
+"I shan't stay much longer, nurse; but the beef tea is taken, and Miss
+Gascoigne is quite quiet and comfortable."
+
+The nurse glanced suspiciously round. Joan looked at her with one of
+her irresistible smiles.
+
+"Miss Gascoigne and I are old friends. We wanted to pretend she was not
+ill, and had no doctors or nurses. She is going to get well as quickly
+as she can."
+
+The nurse understood, and wisely gave way. "Ten minutes more, then; and
+you will find me in the little room at the end of the corridor."
+
+Joan nodded; then came over to Banty again.
+
+"It's better to coax than to force," she said. "Oh, Banty, dear, you
+must get well quickly. I want you, and so do your parents."
+
+"Do you know what my being well means?"
+
+"Yes; we won't shirk it. It means, possibly, an artificial leg, a
+stick, and a slight limp; but there's the wide world waiting for you
+outside and wanting you. It will mean no riding or hunting; but the
+country isn't taken from you. You will drive yourself about, and I
+believe a new world will dawn for you, a world which you have never
+entered, and which is very fair indeed."
+
+Banty lay still. Not a word did she say, and very soon Joan took her
+leave.
+
+"Come again soon," was the request.
+
+"Yes; and soon you will be sitting up by your open window."
+
+In the hall Joan met Lady Gascoigne.
+
+"How did you leave our poor darling? Did you talk to her about
+resignation and patience? I hoped you would do her good."
+
+Joan shook her head.
+
+"I've only tried to shake and wake her," she said; "and I think, dear
+Lady Gascoigne, I should leave her a good deal to herself. Banty has
+always liked being alone."
+
+"But not now. I assure you we don't leave her a minute for fear she
+should want something."
+
+"I think she would like to be alone sometimes."
+
+But though Joan had not talked to Banty of the things she loved, she
+had been silently praying for her the whole time; and, as she walked
+home, her whole heart went out towards her in sympathy and love.
+
+Joan had accomplished what none of Banty's family had been able to do.
+She had shaken her out of her despairing lethargy and had given her the
+desire to live.
+
+
+Banty's wonderfully healthy and strong constitution stood her in good
+stead now. When once her will was exercised on the side of recovery,
+she began to make rapid strides towards convalescence, and, if she made
+exacting demands on Joan's time, Joan was cheerfully anxious to comply
+with them. She put in an hour with Banty nearly every day, and they
+talked of many things; but for a long while Banty would not touch upon
+her own helplessness, and Joan always fell in with her mood.
+
+As autumn came on, and the days became shorter and colder, Joan felt
+unutterably sad for the girl who would necessarily be so much shut up
+in the house this first winter.
+
+She hated needlework of every kind, she rarely read; indoor occupation
+of any sort was intolerable to her.
+
+"She had much better have been killed outright," said Cecil one day
+when Joan was talking about her. "When the hunting comes on, she'll be
+desperate. There is nothing for her to live for."
+
+"Oh, Cecil, think how full life is! Hunting is, after all, a very small
+matter."
+
+"Hunting was her life."
+
+"It's a good thing we are made up of different parts," said Joan.
+"Banty has only developed one part of her nature up to now. She has
+still others lying dormant."
+
+"She has no intellect," said Cecil sharply. "Even your partiality to
+her cannot own that."
+
+"I believe she has," said Joan. "Time will show."
+
+The day came when Banty could propel herself in a wheel-chair, and
+after that she was seldom found indoors. Perhaps the worst time to her
+was the day of the opening meet. At first her father said he would not
+go, but Banty urged him to do so.
+
+"As I'm making up my mind to live, the sooner you slip into your old
+ways the better. You go your way and I will go mine. I suppose I shall
+enjoy hearing about your run by and by!"
+
+The people round were wonderfully sympathetic with poor Banty, but were
+all so shy of seeing her suffer, that they wrote their condolences and
+shrank from seeing her personally.
+
+One afternoon, Joan's suggestion was carried out, and Banty drove
+herself to the pine wood in the low cart that was now set apart for her
+use.
+
+When she was comfortably settled, Joan produced some needlework.
+
+"Now we'll enjoy ourselves," she said.
+
+"Joan, if you hadn't been here, I should have put an end to myself,"
+Banty said suddenly. "I couldn't have gone through these awful months
+without you."
+
+Joan shook her head at her.
+
+"Don't try to think of what you might have done in other circumstances.
+Everything was planned out and arranged for you."
+
+"I believe it was," said Banty in an awed voice. "Joan, I must take up
+religion. All cripples do, don't they? They always lie on couches, with
+saintly smiles, and their corner is the haven of peace and refuge for
+the rest of the house."
+
+Banty spoke so gravely that Joan wondered whether she were in jest or
+earnest.
+
+"I want you to have the religion that will make your life fuller than
+it has ever been," said Joan earnestly.
+
+"As full as yours?" queried Banty in a bantering tone. Then with
+sudden gravity she burst out: "Joan, I tell you honestly, I've envied
+you ever since you came to live here. You never go about and enjoy
+yourself; you're half a servant, half a parson, half a teacher, half
+a housekeeper. You look after everybody, and keep them all in a good
+temper, and yet you're as happy as a sandboy through and through. It
+isn't on the surface, for I've watched you closely. How do you manage
+to do it?"
+
+"It's the realising that you're just doing what you are meant to do,"
+said Joan, "that brings content and happiness to me. I have a motto;
+have I told you it before? Three words: 'Patience, long-suffering, with
+joyfulness.' That's what I aim at. And, may I say, Banty, that I think
+your courage and patience now are wonderful!"
+
+"Oh, stow it!" said Banty, colouring. "Of course, I show my best to
+you, and, out here in the fresh air, who could be cantankerous?"
+
+Another silence fell on them. Then Joan jumped up and got tea ready.
+
+"What does Cecil do with herself every day?" Banty asked presently.
+
+"She has driven into the town to-day to do some shopping."
+
+"Is she going abroad this winter?"
+
+"I—I don't think so. She wants to go, but I'm afraid it can't be
+managed."
+
+"I should like to think she would be away. She worries you."
+
+"Oh no, she doesn't. We understand each other perfectly."
+
+Joan led the conversation to other subjects. She never criticised Cecil
+to others.
+
+They stayed in the woods an hour longer, and then, very reluctantly,
+Banty allowed herself to be tucked up again in the trap, and her small
+groom, who had been amusing himself by gathering blackberries, took her
+home.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+A CHANCE FOR CECIL
+
+AUTUMN passed. To Joan it seemed that her life was very full. Banty
+demanded a great deal of her time, but she did not grudge it to her.
+Talks with Lady Alicia came back to her in which she had been told
+that she might be kept in her rather narrow sphere with the object of
+helping one particular person; and Joan could not but feel that Banty's
+sad misfortune had opened the way for a good many real talks on the
+deep things in life. Banty repeatedly told her that she had been a
+refuge to her in a raging storm, and, slowly and almost imperceptibly,
+Banty was feeling her way towards the real Refuge. But, though learning
+lessons of patience and endurance, and dimly seeing as 'through a glass
+darkly' the glories of the new world opening to her soul, Banty did not
+always exercise self-denial in her dealings with her friend.
+
+Joan had come to her help in a dark hour; then it was Joan's purpose in
+life at present to continue that help and come to her aid at any time.
+When fits of depression seized her, she sent for Joan. When she had
+been cross and unreasonable to those around her, and was in a contrite,
+repentant mood, Joan must come and be her father confessor, and make
+peace with those she had vexed and hurt. When the hunt was meeting
+in the close vicinity of the Hall, and she was driven frantic by the
+hooting of the horn and the baying of the hounds, Joan must come up
+immediately, and sit with her, and amuse and entertain her till she was
+able to regain her fortitude and composure. And Joan rarely failed her;
+but it was at the cost of much effort and self-denial on her part to
+respond so willingly, and Cecil was very wroth at her prompt compliance
+with Banty's unreasonable demands.
+
+Cecil herself, at home, was another unceasing trial to her sister.
+She was angry with Banty for her selfishness, yet failed to see that
+she, in her turn, was continually making demands upon Joan's time and
+attention. She had her black moods of depression and contrariety, when
+nothing would please or cheer her, and, as the weather became stormy
+and cold, she would incessantly grumble at the English climate.
+
+One rainy afternoon, as dusk was falling, Joan came in from a visit to
+the Hall to find Cecil crouched by a dying fire in the drawing-room,
+looking the picture of woe.
+
+"My dear, what a miserable room!" Joan said brightly, shaking up some
+untidy cushions on the couch with much energy and then stirring the
+fire. "Why, you look blue with cold! And you have let the fire nearly
+out. Have you been asleep?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know. I have rung three times for coal. I never saw
+such servants, and Sophia had the impertinence to put her head in at
+the door and tell me I ought to have made the coal-scuttle last till
+tea-time! She said she was in the middle of making a cake, and if I
+wanted more coal, I could get some logs from the wood cupboard! I
+really wonder you don't give her notice to leave. She's getting quite
+unbearable."
+
+"I would as soon think of asking Dad to leave!" said Joan, laughing.
+"Sophia is always cross on her cake days, and Maggie has gone out. Her
+mother is ill and wants her. I'll go and get some wood."
+
+She was out of the room and back again in a minute. Cecil went on
+grumbling.
+
+"I've a great mind to apply for a post as companion to someone to get
+away from home. I shall be ill if I stay on here longer. I must get
+abroad. Why don't you help me, Joan? Tell Father I can't, and won't,
+stay here all the winter. I never saw such a benighted place. We
+haven't had a visitor inside the house for a fortnight, at least. My
+bedroom wall is reeking with damp. Haven't you finished Mother's book
+yet? If only you could get it done, Derrick says he will get it taken
+by some publisher friend of his, and that will bring enough money in to
+make it easy for me to go abroad."
+
+"I have so little time to write it, Cecil dear; but I am very nearly
+at the end of it. I should like to sit down and write it now, but I
+promised Father to do some accounts with him after tea. I think I'll
+go out and bring the tea in myself. We won't wait for Sophia. You will
+feel quite another being after it."
+
+Cecil listened to her singing under her breath as she went out to
+the kitchen. It never entered her head to offer to help. She had a
+headache; that was quite sufficient excuse to remain idle.
+
+When Joan came back, Cecil looked up at her.
+
+"Joan, you 'must' help me. You are so absorbed in Banty that you can
+think of nobody else. I will and 'must' get away. You will have me
+dying on your hands if I don't. I woke last night, and could hardly
+breathe. I am getting back all my old breathlessness and my cough."
+
+Joan looked at her a little anxiously, but she could not see any
+appearance of delicacy about her.
+
+"You fret yourself ill," she said. "I wish you would make up your mind
+to get through a winter here. Be patient, and we will hope great things
+from Mother's book."
+
+She made a mental resolve that she would work in her room at night. It
+was the only opportunity she had for quiet. She was as anxious as Cecil
+was that the book should be finished, but her days seemed too full for
+any time to write.
+
+
+For the next few weeks Joan kept this resolve. She came down to
+breakfast in the morning with tired eyes and brain, but with a
+lightened heart. The book was progressing. And then came the day when
+it was packed off to Derrick. He did not keep them waiting long to hear
+its fate. It was accepted. A few alterations were deemed necessary, and
+Joan had a good deal of correspondence with the publisher over it.
+
+About the end of November she received the sum of fifty pounds for
+advance royalties, and Cecil went joyfully to her father to demand
+permission to go abroad. To her amazement, he refused.
+
+Mr. Adair was not a very strong-minded man, and very obstinate on some
+points. Joan could not persuade him to give way. He had suffered too
+much in the past from having his wife and daughter away when he could
+not afford to send them. Now that Cecil was fairly strong, and had not
+her mother to back her up, he considered that it would be weakness on
+his part to give way to her.
+
+"I cannot afford it. You ought to be helping Joan at home. Everyone
+tells me she is wearing herself out. Why should you expect this sum of
+money to be spent on you? If it belongs to anyone, it belongs to Joan,
+who has had all the labour of producing it. And there are still debts
+of ours to be paid. Until I am actually free from debt, I will not
+incur the fresh expense of sending you abroad."
+
+"If the money got by Mother's book is not spent according to her
+wishes, it is abominable injustice!" said Cecil passionately. "You know
+how she wished me to spend every winter abroad. It is why she commenced
+to write, to earn money for our comfort there. And, if the money
+belongs to Joan, I know she will give it to me gladly. When I am dead
+and in my grave, you will reproach yourself. You're killing me fast."
+
+She flung herself out of the room, and went off to Joan. It was not
+often she spoke so passionately to her father. He was much hurt and
+indignant, and Joan had to receive the confidences of both, and try to
+make peace between them. But she could not move her father from his
+standpoint, nor alter his decision. Cecil raged and sulked by turns,
+would not eat, and spent most of her days in bed. In despair, Joan
+wrote to Lady Alicia. She saw that Cecil was making herself really ill,
+and she hardly knew how to act for the best.
+
+In a few days she had Lady Alicia's reply, and it was astounding in its
+force and brevity:
+
+ "MY DEAREST JOAN,—Smooth the creases out of your brow. I have written
+to your father and to Cecil by this same post. I leave for Nice this
+day fortnight, and hope that Cecil will accompany me as my guest.—In
+greatest haste, your loving godmother,—
+
+ "ALICIA."
+
+Joan received this letter at the breakfast-table. Her father and she
+were alone, and they looked up simultaneously at each other. He had
+been reading his communication from Lady Alicia at the same time she
+had been reading hers.
+
+"Well, Joan, the difficulty is solved. I am glad, for I was beginning
+to dread these winter months for that refractory girl."
+
+"Isn't it noble of Lady Alicia? I am so delighted. I must go up and see
+Cecil, and hear what she thinks of it."
+
+She slipped upstairs. Cecil was in bed; her breakfast-tray lay beside
+her, but she was still heavy with sleep, and had not looked at her
+letters.
+
+"Cecil, Cecil! Wake up! You can go abroad in a fortnight, if you like!"
+
+Cecil opened her eyes. She was generally very cross the first thing in
+the morning, and had a great dislike to anyone entering her room before
+she was up. Joan's smiling, eager face roused her.
+
+"What is the matter?"
+
+Joan pounced upon a letter lying upon her tray addressed in Lady
+Alicia's handwriting.
+
+"Here! Read this, and you will have the news!"
+
+Cecil sat up in bed and took the letter.
+
+"I don't know why you are so excited. Can't you speak?"
+
+But Joan stood silent, letting the letter tell its own tale.
+
+Cecil did not show any excitement. She read the letter through very
+calmly, and then handed it to Joan.
+
+"I suppose she has written to you, too? I dare say Father will object,
+and I am not sure that I should like to go abroad with Lady Alicia. She
+is rather prudish and dull. She says she's ordered to go by her doctor,
+and must have a companion. Why doesn't she ask you? Does she expect me
+to be a kind of maid to her? I shouldn't fancy that."
+
+"Well," said Joan, "if you don't jump at her kind offer, you mustn't
+expect any more sympathy from me. I really think you ought to be
+ashamed of yourself, Cecil!"
+
+Cecil laughed. Her good humour came back.
+
+"Of course I shall accept it," she said. "I would rather go with a
+tinker than not at all. Does Father know?"
+
+"Yes; he is quite willing."
+
+Cecil attacked her breakfast with vigour.
+
+"It's rather short notice," she said. "I must get some things down from
+town."
+
+"Now don't be running up bills! You always look nicely dressed, and
+Lady Alicia is very simple and quiet herself."
+
+"I am not going to be a duplicate of Lady Alicia! How pleased you will
+be to get rid of me!"
+
+Joan bent down and gave her a quick little kiss. "You know it is for
+your sake. I am so glad."
+
+Cecil looked up at her with laughter in her eyes. "You're a trump,
+Joan! But we do not fit together very well. You are always such a saint
+that you provoke me to be a devil!"
+
+Joan looked at her gravely and a little tenderly. "Lady Alicia
+considers you have the making of a fine woman in you."
+
+With which diplomatic remark she left the room.
+
+
+The fortnight that ensued was a very busy time for both sisters. Cecil
+did at times feel ashamed of herself when she saw how Joan slaved for
+her, and the night before she left home she said to her:
+
+"I wonder you don't hate me, Joan! However much you may deny it, I know
+that when I am gone, you and Father will settle down with the greatest
+happiness and peace together. Sophia will thank Heaven she has seen
+the last of me. There isn't a soul here who would care if they never
+saw me again. I think it is this that makes me so bad tempered. Nobody
+wants me or likes me. I feel I am a very big fly in the small pot of
+ointment. The only one who really cared for me and wanted me is in her
+grave!"
+
+"Oh, Cecil, you mustn't talk so! You don't know how I care, but you
+don't encourage me to show you any affection, do you?"
+
+"No; I hate all that kind of thing. Some day, perhaps, I shall turn to
+you for what I now seem to spurn. In my heart I know that your view of
+life is the right one, and mine is wrong. But everything will have to
+be taken from me before I shall be content with what you are. My health
+and strength and powers of enjoyment will have to go before I can hope
+to settle down into such a narrow groove."
+
+Joan did not speak; she felt tongue-tied. Her face showed how Cecil's
+words distressed her.
+
+"Don't look so shocked. Perhaps Lady Alicia will work a wonderful
+change in me. Who knows? I may come back to you a perfect miracle of
+goodness and unselfishness. You can hope for it. Anyhow, you're a dear
+old thing, and I'm very grateful for all you've been doing for me!"
+
+She put up her face for a kiss, and Joan had misty eyes as she gave it.
+In spite of all her waywardness, Cecil did occupy a big place in her
+heart.
+
+
+When she had gone, the house seemed strangely silent and empty. Mr.
+Adair openly expressed his relief at his younger daughter's absence;
+and, as the days slipped by, Joan found that Banty and the parish more
+than occupied her time and thoughts.
+
+Mrs. Adair's book was published in the new year, and it was a keen
+pleasure to Mr. Adair as well as to Joan to read it through and
+discuss every page of it. Banty received a copy. She was becoming a
+great reader, and though, as a rule, her reading was of the lightest
+description, she took the greatest interest in this special book.
+
+"I have been telling Father," she said to Joan, "that he had better get
+you to finish our ridiculous Chronicles. Would you be above completing
+Motty's leavings?"
+
+"I couldn't do it satisfactorily, I am afraid," said Joan. "Why don't
+you try it yourself, Banty? It would be such an interest to you!"
+
+"It wouldn't be the smallest interest to me, except—" here her eyes
+brightened—"to ferret out all the Gascoignes who followed the hounds."
+
+"Where is your cousin now?"
+
+"He is still hanging on the skirts of those rich Americans. If he
+doesn't get engaged quickly to the girl, they will find him out, and it
+will be all 'UP' with him."
+
+A few days afterwards, Banty told Joan that she had been looking over
+the MSS. already written about their family.
+
+"Of course, I'm not a writer, and never shall be. Motty has put
+together all the papers and letters connected with us up to 1700; so
+he really has done the worst of it. And I have told father I will
+string together some of the letters and papers since. It is only to put
+them according to date, isn't it? I'm actually getting interested in
+my great-grandfather. He kept a pack of hounds and wrote the raciest
+letters to his lady love. In one he says 'I toasted you last night, and
+found the port a sorry substitute for your sweet lips!' It sounds as
+if he meant to drink them. I dare say his metaphor was mixed, like his
+brains, at the time, for they say he was a hard drinker."
+
+Banty spoke with animation. Joan encouraged her all she could to
+persevere in the task.
+
+"Your father will be so pleased if you can do it, Banty."
+
+"I shall want something to keep me going," said Banty. "I get a sick
+longing to be on a horse again, Joan. It's all very well to talk of the
+glories of the future world; but if I can't ride there, it won't be any
+pleasure to me!"
+
+On the whole Banty was meeting her misfortune with great pluck and
+fortitude.
+
+"I know you think the hunting-field a very poor place, Joan," she said
+one day, "but I can tell you it gives you lessons in discipline and
+self-control like nothing else. It teaches you to bear fatigue without
+a whine, to take a few ugly bumps and tumbles as all in the day's work,
+and to wait patiently half a day, if necessary, when the hounds can't
+find. I've been well schooled in endurance all my life, and it helps me
+not to pull a poor mouth now."
+
+As the spring came on, she grew wonderfully stronger, and could soon
+walk about with the help of a stick. She refused to use a crutch, and
+her nimbleness in moving surprised even the doctor.
+
+It was a very happy day for Joan when Banty asked her rather awkwardly
+whether she would like her help in the Sunday school.
+
+"I'd like to do something. I can tell them what you've told me. If I'd
+been taught by you as a child, what a saint I might have been!"
+
+Joan gladly gave her a class of boys, and Banty not only developed a
+genius for managing them, but for interesting them; and she very soon
+became quite enamoured of her work.
+
+Lady Gascoigne said rather pathetically to Joan:
+
+"That dreadful accident has given me a daughter of whom I am proud. I
+was so afraid that she would be an unhappy, lifelong invalid. As it is,
+she does more for me and her father now, with her one leg, than she
+ever did with her two! And we never hear a complaint from her lips."
+Which was great testimony for such a high spirited, wilful girl as
+Banty had always been.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+HEART TO HEART
+
+IT was spring again, but Cecil was not back. Lady Alicia and she were
+now doing the Italian lakes together, and Cecil's letters, though few
+and far between, were very happy in tone. Joan's mind for the present
+was at rest about her. Life was getting easier. The last of the back
+debts was paid, and Joan felt that she could now hold her head up and
+look the whole world in the face. She started out for a walk one day
+with her terrier, in a very happy frame of mind. Her old, discontented
+longings for a larger sphere of influence and work had left her. She
+realised now that there were individuals all round her who were as
+precious in their Creator's sight as those far-away, and she cheerfully
+set to work to find out their various needs. The villagers loved
+her. There was not a house which did not welcome her warmly, and men
+and women besides the children learnt to confide to her all their
+difficulties and troubles.
+
+Crossing the heath, she met an old shepherd who was a special friend of
+hers, and for some minutes she stayed gossiping with him; then, going
+across to a little knoll under some pines, she seated herself on a
+fallen log, and, gazing down upon the smiling valleys below, she fell
+into a reverie.
+
+Her thoughts took her back to Ireland. She had heard from Major
+Armitage once or twice through the winter. He was still managing
+his sister's estate, and the unsettled state of Ulster, with the
+apprehension of civil war, was keeping them engrossed with their own
+affairs.
+
+She was startled suddenly by the furious barking of her little terrier.
+Looking up, she saw approaching her the object of her thoughts, and
+she sprang to her feet with a little exclamation of astonishment and
+pleasure. He shook hands with her with great energy.
+
+"Now, what a marvellous coincidence!" he said. "I had no idea I should
+meet you out here, but my whole thoughts were with you, and I was
+planning an interview with you."
+
+"But why plan?" said Joan, laughing. "You had only to walk up to the
+rectory to receive a hearty welcome. I am astonished to see you. Have
+you been over here long?"
+
+"I came last night. Some business with my tenants brought me. And I
+came out this afternoon to get away from everybody."
+
+Joan was silent. She looked up at him, and then turned her eyes away,
+for he was standing close to her, leaning against a tree trunk, and
+his eyes told her why he wanted to see her. She tried to still the
+throbbing in her heart and veins; she tried to keep a cool, clear head;
+but she was mentally asking herself this one question over and over
+again:
+
+"Does he care for me?"
+
+"I had to think matters out," he went on slowly. "As you know, I lived
+in a world of dreams when I was here before. I lived upon one hope,
+one idea; and when it was shattered, I wished I had been shattered
+with it. I have been through my house this morning, and in every room
+I sought to raise up the ghost of my vision; but it would not come.
+And the strange part of it is that I would not welcome it if it did. I
+buried it when I was here before; and time and reason have convinced
+me that my heart and affection are free to offer to another. The past
+is absolutely gone. You may think me fickle, but from the time I knew
+that she was willing, and rightly willing, to cleave to the one she had
+promised to love and live with, I never had any more desire to win her.
+
+"And now, Miss Adair, I come to you. I am conscious that my
+circumstances and my past are against me; but as you are never out of
+my thoughts by day or night, I thought you would let me tell you so.
+I have come over from Ireland, not only to see my tenants, but to see
+you. I don't want your friendship; I want something more; and I do ask
+you not to answer quickly. I am afraid that you will feel I have no
+right to ask you so soon, that I cannot care deeply enough; but I have
+learnt to care for you so much that nothing else in the world seems
+worth living for."
+
+Joan sat very still. Her heart wanted to answer him at once, her head
+cautioned delay. How could she leave her father? She could not see a
+way out. At last she looked up.
+
+Major Armitage was white and stern, his lips were set determinedly
+together, but his eyes were almost wistful. He tried to smile as he met
+her gaze.
+
+"Well!" he said with a quick-caught breath. "Do you see anything in
+me worth your love? I don't myself, and I'm steeling myself to bear a
+refusal."
+
+"Oh!" said Joan impulsively. "I can't give you that. I care too much
+already. But I am thinking of my father."
+
+"Do you really care for me, Joan?"
+
+He bent over her eagerly, then took hold of both of her hands and drew
+her gently up towards him.
+
+"Joan, if you care, as I care, no one on earth has a right to separate
+us."
+
+Strong man as he was, he trembled with emotion; but Joan stood very
+still with his arm round her. The moment to her was almost a sacred
+one. Just for an instant her head rested on his broad shoulder.
+
+"No," she whispered; "they will not be able to."
+
+Then he bent his head, knowing that he had won her, and his lips
+touched hers, sealing the compact.
+
+A few moments after, he and she were sitting together on the fallen
+tree. His face was radiant with happiness; she was very quiet, but
+deeply, enchantingly content.
+
+"Joan, Joan, have you cared about me long? Tell me when you first
+thought anything about me?"
+
+"Oh," she said, "how can I say? I liked and admired you, and felt
+intensely sorry for you from the very beginning. I was honoured by
+your friendship; but I suppose when it really came home to me that my
+heart had escaped out of my own keeping was when we were walking back
+from that little church over the hills in Ireland. I felt I should like
+nothing better than to go on walking with you for ever!"
+
+"And that was the night I wanted to speak to you. I tried to do so, if
+you remember, but I felt I could not. I was so terribly afraid of being
+repulsed, and I thought it was too soon. I funked putting my fate to
+the test. I cannot believe in my good fortune even now."
+
+They talked on as lovers have done from time immemorial, and at last
+Joan made a move.
+
+"I must go to Father. He will be wanting his tea. I don't know what to
+do about telling him. He often says he hopes I shall marry; but I don't
+know if he really means it."
+
+"May I come back with you?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+They found the rector pacing the drive. He was delighted to see Major
+Armitage again. When Joan ran on into the house to make the tea, the
+Major spoke.
+
+"Mr. Adair, I have come back because I could not keep away any longer.
+I am afraid you may not welcome me so warmly when you know my errand. I
+want to take away Joan from you."
+
+Mr. Adair drew in his breath.
+
+"Ah, dear! It has come at last, then!"
+
+"Will you give her to me?"
+
+"What does Joan say? But I need not ask. She is a good girl, Major—too
+good to remain single all her life. I believe in women marrying; but I
+shall be lost, quite lost, without her!"
+
+"We have not talked over matters yet," said Major Armitage
+sympathetically; "but when I can leave my sister, I mean to come back
+and live here. And if I did that, could not Joan still keep a good bit
+of her parish work and still help you?"
+
+Mr. Adair's downcast face brightened at once.
+
+"Capital! You have your music, and Joan is too energetic to like a life
+of ease without any work to keep her from rusting. I know this, Major,
+there isn't a soul on earth I would like as a son-in-law better than
+yourself. I know you will make my girl happy."
+
+He went straight into the drawing-room, where Joan sat over the tea
+tray with hot cheeks and bright eyes, and patted her affectionately on
+the shoulder.
+
+"I have been told, Joan dear, and I shall be glad in your happiness. I
+know Major Armitage, and can trust you to him."
+
+Joan's eyes filled with sudden tears.
+
+"He is such a dear, I couldn't help losing my heart to him," she said.
+Then, as her lover came into the room, she brushed her tears away and
+smiled radiantly up into his face.
+
+They were a very happy little party, but Major Armitage did not stay
+to dinner. He was expecting a visit from some of his tenants at six
+o'clock, and had to be home to meet them.
+
+Joan walked down the drive with him when he went.
+
+"Will you come over my house with me to-morrow morning?" he asked her.
+"I'll come and fetch you if I may."
+
+"I can't fling my duties to the winds," she said, looking up at him and
+laughing. "I am going to the school to-morrow at ten, but at eleven I
+shall be free."
+
+"Then I shall be here at eleven."
+
+At the gate, under the shadow of the old yew tree, he took her into his
+arms again.
+
+"I can't believe you are going to belong to me," he said. "What a happy
+man I shall be!"
+
+"I hope I shall bring happiness to you," she responded. "I want to do
+it; I have always thought that you wanted a woman to look after you."
+
+He gave a quick little shake of his head.
+
+"That is not the view you ought to take. I am happy because I mean to
+care for you and to wait upon you and to give you a good time. You have
+always been so busy looking after other people that you have never
+given yourself a thought."
+
+Joan laughed softly.
+
+"I have hitherto gloried in my independence; but love alters
+everything, does it not?"
+
+When he had left her, Joan leant her arms on the gate and watched him
+out of sight, and then she raised her face to the evening sky.
+
+ "Oh, God! I thank Thee. Bless us both, and make us blessings to one
+another."
+
+Before she went to bed that night, she had a long talk with her father.
+
+Mr. Adair, though he still asserted stoutly that he was very pleased,
+had great heart sinkings about the future; and Joan wisely made him
+voice his fears.
+
+"I will not leave you, Dad dear, until the way seems easy. Sophia is a
+host in herself, I know."
+
+"Oh, Sophia is a capital housekeeper," her father said hurriedly. "She
+will make me comfortable, and I shall not wish selfishly to spoil your
+life, my dear. It is the thought of Cecil reigning here in your stead
+that appals me. I assure you it was an awful time when you were in
+Ireland! If it were not for Cecil, I should jog on pretty well."
+
+"But, Father dear, if I marry, you must remember that we still live in
+your parish. I shall hope to play the organ, and run the Sunday school,
+and do all the club accounts. You will not be left without my help."
+
+Mr. Adair looked at her very gravely.
+
+"That is a comforting way of putting it; but remember, Joan, if a woman
+marries, her husband and her household must and ought to be her first
+interest. Never let your work come between your husband and yourself."
+
+Joan knew why he spoke so emphatically.
+
+"I don't think Major Armitage is a selfish man," she said musingly. "He
+has lived so long without home comforts that he will not be exacting.
+And he has resources in himself, and real work to do; for he considers
+his music a gift given to him to use for the benefit of others. Oh, I
+have already weighed it in my mind, and as long as you want my help in
+the parish, I mean to give it to you."
+
+She sat up late that night writing to Cecil and Lady Alicia.
+
+
+When Sophia heard the news, she was not so congratulatory as she might
+have been.
+
+"Whatever will Mr. Derrick say? And I do hope, Miss Joan, that you
+aren't getting a crank for a husband. There be no doubt about it as he
+has behaved very strange. Certainly, M'ria says she has no complaints
+to make after that death occurred. I suppose it did occur?"
+
+"I think I had better tell you the whole story, Sophia," said Joan
+patiently.
+
+And when she had finished her account, Sophia gave a sniff.
+
+"Well, we must hope you'll be happy with him, but I consider a fancy
+for another woman, even if it comes to nought, takes the bloom off a
+man, so to speak. Now, Mr. Derrick has never altered from the time he
+were a boy. 'Twas Miss Joan first and foremost, and there was none her
+equal."
+
+"Mr. Derrick is a dear boy," said Joan; "but Major Armitage is—Oh, I
+can't describe him, Sophia, but he is wound round my heart, and to be
+in the same room with him thrills me through and through."
+
+Sophia could say no more. She looked at Joan in a pitying way, and when
+she was left alone in her kitchen, muttered to herself:
+
+"It's a good thing for me that no man has ever made me thrill. Poor
+Miss Joan be but a child, after all said and done, and 'tis to be hoped
+she won't live to change her mind when 'tis too late!"
+
+The sun was shining full on the old weather-beaten house as Joan and
+Major Armitage walked up to it the next morning.
+
+She looked at it with an absorbing interest. This was to be her future
+home. How little she had thought when she stood there last that she
+would be the means of bringing the waiting house to its fulfilment.
+
+She went back in thought to the words its owner had spoken:
+
+"My house and I wait."
+
+As they mounted the old stone steps, she glanced up at her lover. She
+remembered his determination that no woman's foot should cross his
+threshold till the one for whom he was waiting should come. For the
+first time a touch of jealousy clouded her mind—jealousy lest the
+remembrance of the woman who had formerly so obsessed him should recur
+to him here and now. He was looking straight before him, and not at
+her; but when they reached the big door, he paused, and then his eyes
+met hers and the smile spread all over his stern, set face.
+
+"This is an unlucky house," he said. "Do you believe that the strength
+of our love will break that spell?"
+
+Joan caught her breath, then light and colour swept into her face;
+she slipped her arm into his. "Let me tell you something which has
+just flashed into my mind before we go in. I know the superstition
+about your house, that no luck will come to those living in it until
+it reverts to the Rollestons. Do you know that Cecil and my mother
+discovered that we are directly descended from one of the daughters of
+this house, a certain Gertrude Rolleston?"
+
+"What an extraordinary coincidence! You must tell me the details. I
+have the Rolleston genealogy in my library; we will look it up. But,
+Joan, my dearest, there would be no spot on earth which would not be
+sanctified and blessed by your presence!"
+
+Then very solemnly he raised his hat before he opened the door.
+
+"May the God who instituted marriage bless us both on the threshold of
+our home, and lift up the light of His countenance upon us and give us
+peace."
+
+After that Joan felt as if the stepping across the threshold was
+a sacrament. Certainly, she assured herself, Major Armitage was
+different from any other man in the world. And when she had crossed the
+threshold, he stooped and kissed her.
+
+Maria came bustling across the hall to greet them. She was tremulous
+with excitement and emotion.
+
+Joan shook her by the hand very warmly.
+
+"Eh, Miss Adair, this be a happy moment to me, and Sophia's loss will
+be my gain!"
+
+"There!" said Major Armitage cheerily. "What prettier or truer speech
+can you expect than that, Joan?"
+
+Then he led her up the stairs to the music-room.
+
+"I have laid the ghosts here," he said. Then, pointing to the
+old-fashioned fireside, he added:
+
+"I used to dream as I sat there alone in the evenings that a woman in a
+soft silk dress might one day sit opposite me and talk and laugh as I
+smoked my pipe. But latterly that woman's face grew misty and finally
+disappeared. Now I see it again, a fair, sweet face, the sweetest in
+the world to me, with deep, true, tender blue eyes and a smile that
+always brings two distracting dimples into play, and hair full of
+sunshine. Don't stop me. I see her clasping her hands round her knee—it
+is a way she has—and showing me by turns her eager, earnest soul, her
+boundless patience and sympathy, her sweet, reverent faith in all that
+touches the unseen world."
+
+"I must stop your rhapsody," said Joan, half laughing but much moved.
+"My cheeks are hot with such flattery. Show me your piano and books."
+
+He did so, and then led her along the corridor to a locked door. He
+unlocked it and showed her the dainty little boudoir, which had all
+been renovated and cleaned and made fit for use.
+
+A shadow came into Joan's eyes as she looked at it. She felt almost as
+a second wife might feel when being shown the belongings of the first.
+
+"You must tell me truly," she said, impulsively turning to him. "Does
+this room remind you of the one for whom it was meant? I don't think I
+could be happy here."
+
+He wheeled round, drew her out of the room and turned the key in the
+lock.
+
+"Then you shall not have it," he said. "Joan, sweetest, I told you I
+had laid my ghosts, but if they are there for you, I will dismantle the
+room at once. There are plenty of others to choose from. Look! I shall
+give you this one over the west wing; you will see the sunsets; and you
+shall furnish it as you please."
+
+He drew her into a quaint octagonal room, with a window overlooking the
+heath and distant hills. Joan knew she would love it the instant she
+was inside, and she was content.
+
+Then they wandered through the rest of the house and made many plans.
+When Joan eventually came away, she said to him:
+
+"I feel I shall be taking all and giving nothing."
+
+To which, of course, Major Armitage replied:
+
+"You are giving me the priceless gift of your own sweet self, the only
+gift in this wide world that is worth anything to me!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE LUCK OF ROLLESTON COURT
+
+THE neighbourhood was very much surprised when it heard the news. Banty
+was too taken aback to congratulate Joan.
+
+"I didn't know you liked him," she said bluntly. "He has been so
+unsociable and cranky that none of us has seen much of him. I hope
+you'll get on with him, Joan. He isn't good enough for you."
+
+It was a trial to Joan to be constantly made aware of the fact of Major
+Armitage's unpopularity. There is nothing a country village hates more
+than reticence and exclusiveness. The poor consider that if anybody
+shuts himself away from society, there is something to hide, and that
+something is most likely criminal. The rich resent their overtures
+of friendship being repulsed. Major Armitage himself was supremely
+indifferent to it all, but for Joan's sake, he made an effort and
+accepted an invitation to dine at the Hall. It was the beginning of a
+little more sociable intercourse between himself and his neighbours,
+and the fact of his engagement led many to make fresh endeavours to
+know him.
+
+In due time, Joan received letters from Lady Alicia and from Cecil.
+
+Cecil's was characteristic of her.
+
+ "MY DEAR JOAN,—
+
+ "I suppose I must send congratulations. I have to readjust my estimate
+of you. I should have said from my lifelong knowledge of you that you
+would have cheerfully sacrificed yourself at duty's or Father's shrine
+and refused to leave your sphere of work. But I am glad for your sake
+that you have been sensible. I, of course, pity myself exceedingly.
+Will Father expect me to slip into your shoes? They never did fit me,
+and never will. But I am not home yet, and 'things may happen,' as we
+used to say when we were small. I am much amused at you and the Major
+coming together. Did I not propose it to you? I hope you will make him
+less uncanny than he was. Of course, you have told him of our descent
+from the Rollestons? You will bring back the luck to his house. He
+ought to be very grateful to you for liking him. I wonder if you are
+really in love. I can't imagine you! You are so sane, so wise, that it
+does not seem to be your role.
+
+ "Love,
+
+ "Your affectionate sister,
+
+ "CECIL."
+
+ "P.S.—I have read this over, and it doesn't sound quite nice. I wonder
+why? But I can't gush over the engagement, for I don't know Major
+Armitage. I can only wish you happiness."
+
+Joan's face became rather downcast as she read this. She did not know
+that Cecil was sore and bitter since her broken engagement, and angry
+with Joan in an unreasonable way for her present happiness.
+
+Lady Alicia's letter brought warmth and comfort at once. She allayed
+the scruples that were always troubling Joan's sensitive conscience.
+
+ "It is right, dear, that you should marry when you love, and when that
+one, like Randal Armitage, is worthy of your love. Your father will
+be far happier in feeling your future provided for and in seeing your
+happiness. If you were to sacrifice all your future for the sake of
+being for a few years a help to your father, the time would be certain
+to come when you and he would regret it; and I think your circumstances
+will be wonderfully favourable to you."
+
+Derrick also wrote to Joan.
+
+ "DEAR OLD CHUM,—
+
+ "Hearty congratulations is the conventional phrase, is it not? I
+congratulate him on getting you, and for the rest—well, I don't bear
+him malice, and if you're happy, that's the main thing. I'm going on
+the Continent for a holiday. My respects to Dominie, and if I meet the
+Malingerer, will let you know how she is faring. Adieu.
+
+ "Yours,
+
+ "DERRICK."
+
+"Poor Derrick!" sighed Joan. "How I hope he will forget and marry!"
+
+Yet, though she said this, it was a tremendous shock to her, a month
+later, to get another letter from Cecil.
+
+"I suppose," she wrote, "your engagement made me restless and
+unsettled. We are now at Lucerne, and, to our amazement, one day
+Derrick walked in. As he has always been one of the family, he and I
+went about a good bit together. We have talked you and the village
+threadbare, and at last, as we had nothing else to do, we made up our
+minds that we would try to follow your example. You see, he and I have
+both been foiled in our first experience, so we can feel for each
+other. He knows I am not domesticated; but I feel I could run a London
+flat and make it a success. And we don't jar on each other. In fact, I
+have a wonderful sense of rest in his company. I know I could help him
+in his work, and am determined that he shall be an M.P. very soon, and
+later on Prime Minister at least. Well, all this rigmarole means that
+we're engaged, and as we've known each other all our lives, we mean to
+marry straight away. I could not face wedding bells in Old Bellerton
+village. Lady Alicia is a trump; she has been as anxious as a mother
+over us. She talked to him and talked to me, and warned us not to be in
+such haste. But we've got her on our side now, so make your mind easy
+over us. Derrick will like to hear what your views are about our match.
+Write him one of your nicest letters."
+
+Joan went to her father, who was as astonished as she and very
+delighted.
+
+Joan herself was honestly and deeply thankful. At first she was
+almost afraid that both of them were plunging into matrimony more
+from expediency than from real love or liking for each other; yet she
+remembered how Derrick had always admired Cecil's dainty grace and
+beauty, and though he had teased her unmercifully, Cecil had never
+resented it, but invariably showed the best side of her nature to him.
+
+But the speedy marriage made her anxious; and she thought Cecil's
+indifference to her home and her father a bad beginning for her married
+life. Derrick wrote to Joan in a day or two.
+
+ "I'm doing all there remains to be done. I have lost you for good. I
+want to marry and settle down; and Cecil and I suit each other as well
+as most people, and a good deal better. The Malingerer has died; in her
+stead is an exceedingly beautiful and attractive woman. I shall be the
+model husband, and she will daily be moulded to my will. Joking apart,
+we are going to be happy; but I always and for ever intend to remain,—
+
+ "Your old chum,
+
+ "DERRICK."
+
+"I always wanted him as a son," said Mr. Adair, "but I hoped you would
+marry him, Joan. Do you think Cecil will make his home happy?"
+
+"I am sure she will," said Joan stoutly. "Cecil has a heart and depths
+which as yet have not been reached. She will develop as a married
+woman."
+
+Cecil's marriage was the means of postponing Joan's. She was not in
+haste to leave her home, and Major Armitage felt obliged to go over to
+Ireland to his sister again. He much wanted Joan to accompany him, but
+she steadfastly refused.
+
+"My father wants me. I will not leave him yet."
+
+
+The summer slipped by. In the middle of it, Cecil and Derrick came for
+a visit, and the visit was a complete success.
+
+All Cecil's old irritability and laziness seemed to have disappeared.
+She was full of the little flat in town which was going to be their
+home. She was gentle and considerate to her father, very affectionate
+to Joan.
+
+And one day she told her, with a burst of confidence, that she was
+going to make religion a power in her life.
+
+"Derrick is really good, you know, though he never talks about it. And
+Lady Alicia lived her religion every day, like you do. I am going to
+read my Bible every day and say a prayer."
+
+"Oh, Cecil!" said Joan, half amused, half sad. "I hope you will get
+farther than that."
+
+"I heard of Motty when we were staying in town," said Cecil, turning
+the subject. "That American girl didn't marry him, and he has left them
+and is touring round America with a spiritualist and his wife. He will
+never keep at anything long. It's a great pity, for he has brains and
+is a fascinating talker."
+
+"I am so thankful you did not marry him," said Joan. "I prayed that you
+might not."
+
+"Oh, how wickedly unkind I should have thought you if I had known that
+at the time. But it has all turned out for the best. Joan, my dear,
+tell me truly, does your heart ever fail you as you think of settling
+down in this small corner of the world for good and all? Won't it be an
+awfully dull, monotonous life?"
+
+"I should have thought so once," Joan responded; "but I have learnt to
+look at life differently. I suppose I used to long for power and the
+sphere for using it, but I am content now. And you must remember I have
+my writing, and my friends, and my parish work, and, last of all, my
+husband. My life will be quite as full as yours."
+
+"Well, you must come up and see me when you want waking up; and I will
+come and see you when I want peace and quiet."
+
+And that compact was made between them before Cecil left for town.
+
+
+Two years have slipped by.
+
+It is a cold, frosty day in December.
+
+In a big easy chair by the fire in the music-room of Rolleston Court
+sits Joan. There is a wonderfully soft and radiant look in her face
+as she looks down upon a little bundle of clothes upon her knee. The
+firelight flickers on tiny, helpless fingers clutching the air, and
+as the mother bends her face lower and moves a Shetland shawl, a pair
+of big blue eyes look expectantly up at her. Such a wee face, with a
+round, sturdy chin and red, soft lips, and a brow that reminds her of
+Randal.
+
+And then the door opens and in strides Major Armitage. Marriage has
+erased the gloomy lines in his face and given him a spring in his walk,
+an eagerness in his voice, and a free and upright carriage. He stoops
+over Joan and gives her a kiss, inspects his son and heir, then sinks
+into the other big chair on the opposite side of the hearth and heaves
+a sigh of relief. The sparkle comes into his eyes as he glances across
+at Joan.
+
+"I've been to the other side of the heath to see the new cottages.
+Young Garton was there, and gave me somewhat sheepish thanks. I told
+him he deserved to have a wife and home; and I told him, too, that I
+had learnt the value of them. Joan, dearest, how few dreams come true
+in life! Yet mine has. I have you there sitting opposite to me, ready
+to comfort, to advise, or to—"
+
+"Scold," put in Joan with her dimpling smile. "And now here is a third
+coming to demand our care and attention. Oh, Randal, I have been
+thinking big thoughts this afternoon. What a wonderful thing motherhood
+is! What an awful responsibility! This little creature in my arms now
+occupying his position as a future citizen of our Empire, all his gifts
+and powers, that will be for good or evil in his future life, wrapped
+up dormant in his tiny brain. And we have the training of him, the
+making of him. I want him to be a great man, strong, purposeful, pure,
+honourable, and high principled."
+
+An interruption came.
+
+Banty, in her rough tweeds, walking with something of her old vigour,
+though with a limp, entered the room.
+
+"I have interrupted a happy family party," she said brightly; "but I've
+come to see my godson."
+
+Major Armitage pulled forward a chair for her. If his tête-à-tête with
+his wife was brought abruptly to a conclusion, he was too courteous
+a gentleman to allow his disappointment to be seen. Banty was always
+welcome, and she knew it.
+
+After a little time, he left the women together and went off to the
+smoking-room. Joan put the baby into Banty's arms, and the girl held
+him with some delight and a little anxiety.
+
+"I'm not so used to nursing as you are," she said; "don't laugh at my
+awkwardness. It seems so ridiculous to think of you with a child, Joan."
+
+"Does it? It seems the most natural thing in the world to me. And yet,
+as I was saying just now, he will make a big difference in my life."
+
+"You won't have so much time for your writing or for the parish."
+
+"My parish work seems drifting away," said Joan. "My father told me
+yesterday that he had hardly missed me since I was laid up, for you
+have proved such a good substitute."
+
+Banty looked pleased.
+
+"It's all I have to do. It gives me the excuse of getting out of the
+house. You're a lucky woman, Joan."
+
+Joan looked quickly at her.
+
+"What is at the back of that speech?"
+
+"Nothing. A wave of restless discontent takes possession of me
+sometimes, when I think that I shall live on in this village all my
+life, doing the same things and seeing the same people."
+
+"Yes, I know. I used to feel the same. I longed to be in the rush of
+life; but I think I have learned to be content."
+
+"What did you want to do?"
+
+"To be the head of some big school or training college, where I could
+train and influence the rising generation. That was my ideal when I
+was at college and when I left it. I did get the offer of being senior
+mistress in an important school, but I could not be spared. It was not
+to be. You see, I wanted big things for myself, and was given small. I
+have been trying to learn to be faithful in the little things of life."
+
+"I don't know about little things," said Banty musingly. "I think
+you have done some big things amongst us. If you had not been here,
+I should either have blown my brains out or have become a useless,
+whining invalid. And a good many in the village owe you much. What
+a change you have wrought in Major Armitage! You have a wonderful
+influence with everyone with whom you come in contact."
+
+"We all have influence, Banty," Joan said quickly. "You have a great
+many guests coming and going at your home. You can help others as you
+say you have been helped. Yours is not a small life at all; and there
+are the Chronicles!"
+
+Laughter was in her eyes as she added this.
+
+Banty smiled.
+
+"I'm beginning to have sympathy with Motty. They are endless, perfectly
+endless! I go into the library and shut myself up there as a penance
+when I have been cross to Mother or furious with my maid. I peg away
+at them, and suppose they'll be finished some time; but it is not very
+elevating work. I am not as proud of our family history as father is.
+Oh, I am content, on the whole, Joan. But sometimes I look forward. An
+old maid's life!"
+
+"My dear Banty, you are not upon the shelf yet."
+
+Banty laughed a little scoffingly.
+
+"Who would want to marry a cripple? And I don't think I shall ever be
+taken with any man now. I feel a hundred years old sometimes, when I
+see an otter hunt sweep by in the meadows below us, or hear the hounds.
+And then—well, I come back to your verse, which you have practised to
+such success. I wonder if I shall be helped to do so too. I believe I
+shall."
+
+When Banty had left, and the nurse had come for the baby, Joan still
+sat on in the firelight. In thought she was reviewing her life within
+the past few years—the life of an ordinary girl in a country village.
+Yet she would not now have had it different. She started when her
+husband's voice sounded again in her ear.
+
+"Are you dreaming? Shall I play to you?"
+
+"Please."
+
+He went to a beautiful little organ worked by electricity, and the full
+soft tones of an anthem of his own setting brought a wonderful hush and
+peace to Joan's spirit.
+
+ "The Lord thy God bare thee, as a man doth bear his son, in all the way
+that ye went, until ye came into this place."
+
+And then he sang the words, and Joan joined him softly under her breath.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77651 ***
diff --git a/77651-h/77651-h.htm b/77651-h/77651-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4085ac4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77651-h/77651-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,10499 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html>
+<html lang="en">
+<head>
+ <meta charset="UTF-8">
+ <title>
+ Joan's Handful │ Project Gutenberg
+ </title>
+ <link rel="icon" href="images/image001.jpg" type="image/cover">
+ <style>
+
+body {
+ margin-left: 10%;
+ margin-right: 10%;
+ font-size:12.0pt;
+ font-family:"Verdana";
+}
+h2 {font-size: 1.17em;}
+p {text-indent: 2em;}
+
+ h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+ text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+ clear: both;
+}
+
+hr {
+ width: 33%;
+ margin-top: 2em;
+ margin-bottom: 2em;
+ margin-left: 33.5%;
+ margin-right: 33.5%;
+ clear: both;
+}
+
+/* Images */
+
+img {
+ max-width: 100%;
+ height: auto;
+}
+
+.w100 {
+ width: auto
+ }
+
+.figcenter {
+ margin: auto;
+ text-align: center;
+ page-break-inside: avoid;
+ max-width: 100%;
+}
+
+p.t1 {text-indent: 0%;
+ font-size: 125%;
+ text-align: center
+ }
+
+p.t2 {
+ text-indent: 0%;
+ font-size: 150%;
+ text-align: center
+ }
+
+p.t3 {
+ text-indent: 0%;
+ font-size: 100%;
+ text-align: center
+ }
+
+p.t3b {
+ text-indent: 0%;
+ font-size: 100%;
+ font-weight: bold;
+ text-align: center
+ }
+
+p.t4 {
+ text-indent: 0%;
+ font-size: 80%;
+ text-align: center
+ }
+
+p.letter {text-indent: 0%;
+ margin-left: 10% ;
+ margin-right: 10% }
+
+p.poem {
+ margin-left: auto;
+ margin-right: auto;
+ padding: 20px 0;
+ text-align: left;
+ width: 485px;
+ }
+
+ </style>
+</head>
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77651 ***</div>
+
+<p>Transcriber's notes: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.</p>
+
+<p>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the
+public domain.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image001" style="max-width: 33.8125em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/image001.jpg" alt="image001">
+</figure>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image002" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"><a id="Image002">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/image002.jpg" alt="image002"></a></figure>
+<p class="t4">
+<b>SEATING HERSELF ON A FALLEN LOG, AND GAZING DOWN UPON</b><br>
+<b>THE SMILING VALLEYS BELOW, JOAN FELL INTO A REVERIE.</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h1>JOAN'S HANDFUL</h1>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+BY<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t1">
+AMY LE FEUVRE<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+Author of "Herself and Her Boy," "Four Gates," etc.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+GOLDEN CROWN SERIES<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image003" style="max-width: 25.3125em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/image003.jpg" alt="image003">
+</figure>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+PICKERING &amp; INGLIS<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+14 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON, E.C.4<br>
+229 BOTHWELL STREET, GLASGOW, C.2<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+GOLDEN CROWN LIBRARY<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<br>
+&nbsp;1 HERSELF AND HER BOY<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY AMY LE FEUVRE<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+&nbsp;2 MINISTERING CHILDREN<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY M. L. CHARLESWORTH<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+&nbsp;3 HER HUSBAND'S HOME<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY EVELYN EVERETT GREEN<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+&nbsp;4 PEPPER &amp; CO.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY ESTHER E. ENOCK<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+&nbsp;S ELDWYTH'S CHOICE<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY LAURA A. BARTER-SNOW<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+&nbsp;6 MARTYRLAND<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY ROBERT SIMPSON<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+&nbsp;7 ANDY MAN<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY AMY LE FEUVRE<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+&nbsp;8 THE BASKETMAKER'S SHOP<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY M. L. CHARLESWORTH<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+&nbsp;9 FOUR GATES<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY AMY LE FEUVRE<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+10 URSULA<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY LAURA A. BARTER-SNOW<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+11 A MADCAP FAMILY<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY AMY LE FEUVRE<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+12 NORAH'S VICTORY<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY LAURA A. BARTER-SNOW<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+13 JOAN'S HANDFUL<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BY AMY LE FEUVRE<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+Made and Printed in Great Britain<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3b">
+CONTENTS.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>CHAPTER</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_1">&nbsp;1. THE PAINTER</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_2">&nbsp;2. THE TRAVELLERS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_3">&nbsp;3. A BUSY DAY</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_4">&nbsp;4. RECTORY LIFE</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_5">&nbsp;5. RENUNCIATION</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_6">&nbsp;6. A MOTHER'S CONFIDENCES</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_7">&nbsp;7. THE MAJOR'S HOSPITALITY</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_8">&nbsp;8. AN ENCOUNTER WITH WILMOT</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_9">&nbsp;9. JOAN'S GODMOTHER</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_10">10. OFF TO THE RIVIERA</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_11">11. LITERARY ATTEMPTS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_12">12. TROUBLE AT ROLLESTON COURT</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_13">13. A FATEFUL TELEGRAM</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_14">14. STRUGGLING IN THE NET</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_15">15. DERRICK TO THE RESCUE</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_16">16. JOAN'S ILLNESS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_17">17. A VISIT TO IRELAND</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_18">18. THE CHURCH IN THE HILLS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_19">19. CECIL'S ENGAGEMENT</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_20">20. BANTY'S ACCIDENT</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_21">21. A CHANCE FOR CECIL</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_22">22. HEART TO HEART</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_23">23. THE LUCK OF ROLLESTON COURT</a></p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3b">
+ILLUSTRATIONS.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<br>
+<a href="#Image002">SEATING HERSELF ON A FALLEN LOG, AND GAZING<br>
+DOWN UPON THE SMILING VALLEYS BELOW, JOAN FELL<br>
+INTO A REVERIE <em>Frontispiece</em><br>
+</a>
+<br>
+<a href="#Image004">JOAN WENT DOWN ON HER KNEES BEFORE HER MOTHER<br>
+IMPULSIVELY, AND TOOK HER HANDS IN HERS<br>
+</a>
+<br>
+<a href="#Image005">JOAN AND BANTY CHATTED TOGETHER IN LIGHT-HEARTED<br>
+FASHION WHEN THEY WERE SITTING DOWN<br>
+WATCHING FOR THE KETTLE TO BOIL<br>
+</a>
+<br>
+<a href="#Image006">SHE WAS DEEP IN THOUGHT AND PRAYER WHEN A<br>
+WELL-KNOWN VOICE MADE JOAN START<br>
+</a>
+<br>
+<a href="#Image007">JOAN HEARD A CHILD'S SHRILL CRY FOR HELP, AND<br>
+LOOKING OUT UPON A ROCK CLOSE TO THE SEA, SHE<br>
+SAW A SMALL FIGURE WAVING A HANDKERCHIEF<br>
+</a>
+</p>
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+"BETTER IS AN HANDFUL WITH QUIETNESS,<br>
+THAN BOTH THE HANDS FULL<br>
+WITH TRAVAIL AND VEXATION OF SPIRIT"<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 18.5em;">(ECCLES. iv. 6).</span><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t2">
+<b>JOAN'S HANDFUL</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_1">CHAPTER I</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>THE PAINTER</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>AN October afternoon, bright and sunny; the touch of frost in the
+previous night had only accentuated the vividness of colour in the
+beech trees that surrounded Old Bellerton Rectory. In the cobbled
+stone yard at the back was Joan Adair, busy with paint and paintbrush.
+She had tucked her skirt up, and was enveloped in a huge white apron.
+Her deep blue eyes were so intent upon her handiwork that she did
+not notice the approach of a stalwart young man in a rough shooting
+costume, who stood leaning against the stable door, and surveyed her
+with amused appreciation.</p>
+
+<p>"Ahem!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan started. She turned a fresh fair face towards the onlooker. It was
+a typical English face, not particularly beautiful, but essentially
+bonny; and when she smiled, a dimple came and went in a most
+distracting fashion. Her bright brown hair gleamed with gold, though at
+present an old straw hat, with a crow's feather sticking up jauntily on
+one side, concealed most of her glory.</p>
+
+<p>"Derrick! How like you! Have you dropped from the sky?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do I look like a cherub? No; I'm out for slaughter. See my gun?
+Have had an invite to the Hall for a week to help old Jossy with his
+pheasants. What on earth are you doing?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan waved her brush proudly. It was no sketch of autumn beauty which
+occupied her clever fingers, but a very shabby little jingle which was
+being liberally plastered with black and red paint.</p>
+
+<p>"Our chariot," she said laughing. "Oh, Derrick, I can't tell you how I
+am revelling in the country! Every day here is too exquisite for words."</p>
+
+<p>"How is Dominie?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is as pleased as I am. We're as happy as the day is long; but
+perhaps that does not say much, as the days are getting short now!"</p>
+
+<p>"I never knew the day that did not see you happy," said the young man.
+"Is tea coming on? I've got a thirst which needs a drop of something,
+and I know the Dominie won't give me a whisky and soda."</p>
+
+<p>"Go in and talk to him. I must finish my job. Shan't we look smart?"</p>
+
+<p>"You'll be taken for the Royal Mail. How fond you are of red! You
+always were. Do you remember when your red frock was baptised with ink?
+How you howled! Here, let me take a hand."</p>
+
+<p>He seized her brush. Joan stood and watched him.</p>
+
+<p>"Any crest to go on?"</p>
+
+<p>"You can paint Dad's name."</p>
+
+<p>Derrick did so; but when Joan looked over his shoulder she found
+"Joan's a dear!" added in large letters.</p>
+
+<p>"Derrick, haven't you grown up yet?" Joan said severely.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm trying to," he said meekly.</p>
+
+<p>Then he threw down his brush, and she led the way into the house.</p>
+
+<p>It was one of those very old-fashioned English rectories which are
+delightful to look at and to live in, if it were not for the thought
+of repairs. A low, square, oak-panelled hall, dark, and with rather
+a musty atmosphere; low, long sitting-rooms opening out of it, with
+oak beams across the ceilings, and deep casement windows overlooking
+a rather untidy and leaf-bestrewed garden. Pictures and books seemed
+to cover all the walls, a few shelves of fragile old china lightened
+the rather gloomy little drawing-room; but Derrick was led into the
+rector's study, where Mr. Adair was immersed amongst his books. Here
+there was a cheerful fire burning, and a square tea-table set by its
+side. A copper kettle was singing away on the hob.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad, dear, here is one of your former pupils—the black sheep amongst
+them."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair turned round and greeted the young man heartily.</p>
+
+<p>Joan's father was getting on in years, but he enjoyed excellent health.
+His face was ruddy and cheerful and clean shaven; his white hair and
+the stoop in his shoulders were the only signs of age.</p>
+
+<p>"I must wash my hands," said Joan. "We will have tea in a few minutes."</p>
+
+<p>She left the room humming a little song under her breath. A green
+baize door opened at one end of the hall, and an elderly woman's face
+appeared with rather an anxious look upon it.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it visitors, Miss Joan?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan laughed. Such a clear, happy laugh! Everyone smiled on hearing it,
+and the old servant was no exception.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Derrick, Sophia! We will not make company of him."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll send in some buttered toast. I remember his liking for it."</p>
+
+<p>"Be careful with the butter," cautioned Joan, the dimple in her cheek
+appearing as she ran lightly up the wide, shallow stairs. She made her
+way along a passage till she opened the door of her room.</p>
+
+<p>It was very small, but it bore the characteristics of the
+owner—whitewashed walls, white dimity bed-hangings, and white dimity
+curtains in the wide casement window. The carpet was thin and
+threadbare, but there was a chintz-covered easy chair by the window,
+and a little table with books and writing materials upon it. A bowl
+of late roses was on the window ledge over the small dressing-table,
+and suspended from a mirror hanging on the wall was a bunch of fresh
+lavender, and a bookcase on the opposite side was crowded with
+well-worn, shabby books.</p>
+
+<p>It did not take Joan long to tidy herself, but just for one moment she
+leant her elbows on her windowsill and gazed with far-seeing eyes over
+the scene before her. An old lawn sloped down to a row of beech trees;
+beyond, the fields rose up again till they met a belt of pines on the
+horizon. Behind these pines the sun was already slowly sinking, sending
+rosy rays across the dusky sky. Rooks were cawing in a rookery close
+by, there was a smell of wood fires, and a slight whiff of hot bread
+which delighted her senses.</p>
+
+<p>"What a haven it is!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan breathed the words; then a little shadow stole into her blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I hope they will be pleased—they must be!" A quick sigh escaped
+her, then she made her way downstairs and re-entered the study like a
+fresh breeze.</p>
+
+<p>Derrick glanced at her as she sat down and began making the tea. He was
+three years her senior, and they had played together and learnt in this
+old rectory as a boy and girl when his grandfather had been the rector
+here, and Mr. Adair had been his curate and lived with his young family
+in a whitewashed cottage at the entrance to the village.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair had gone to a busy town later on, and had taken pupils.
+Derrick Colleton had gone to him there and renewed his acquaintance
+with his old playmate. Then he had gone to Oxford, and thence had
+drifted first into law, and then, not finding that satisfy either his
+purse or his intellect, had taken a post as private secretary to a
+member of the Cabinet. He had never lost his boyish spirits, and as his
+humorous, twinkling eyes met Joan's, she laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to know your thoughts," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't think I'd tumble into such domesticity," he said. "Joan
+of the inkpot and of midnight studies I remember—never Joan of the
+tea-table!"</p>
+
+<p>"But Dad must have his tea," said Joan. "He and I have settled down
+here together with infinite peace. I left Girton two years ago."</p>
+
+<p>"And where is Mrs. Adair? Still abroad with Cecil?"</p>
+
+<p>"They are coming home at the end of this week," Mr. Adair said quickly.
+There was a light in his eye as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>Derrick looked round the room, then out into the dusky garden.</p>
+
+<p>"It's so queer your coming back here after all these years. I see my
+marks still upon that window shutter. I was shut and locked in here one
+day by my grandfather. He rued his deed when he opened the door. My
+knife had been busy on every bit of wood in the room!"</p>
+
+<p>"You were an awful little brat!" said Joan, her dimple appearing.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Mr. Adair gravely. "It is queer, I suppose, but very
+mercifully ordained by God, I consider. Sir Joseph, by giving me the
+living, has enabled us to be one united family again. I am sure this
+bracing country air will be quite as good for Cecil as that of the
+Swiss places in which she has been living, and the house will be far
+more comfortable for my dear wife."</p>
+
+<p>There was a moment's silence. Derrick was casting his mind back to the
+narrow terraced house in a dingy street in which the Adairs had lived
+for the past ten years. He saw again Mrs. Adair moving about it in her
+restless, preoccupied fashion, her graceful figure and dainty dress—a
+strangely incongruous sight in that shabby house. He wondered if this
+country rectory would be more to her liking.</p>
+
+<p>Then he turned to Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"How's the learning? I saw you had taken any amount of degrees and
+honours. What good is it going to do you?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan's eyes flashed.</p>
+
+<p>"It has done me good. It has quickened and fed the mental part of me.
+It has developed—"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Pax! Don't flood me with your rhetoric. If you want to be pleasant
+to your neighbours, let the past be buried deep. Your Girton knowledge
+won't be wanted here."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to argue with you," said Joan suddenly, smiling. "You're
+only a man. All men are dreadfully afraid of cultured women."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never be afraid of you, Joan—never!"</p>
+
+<p>Sophia at this instant opened the door. She bore a plate of hot
+buttered toast, and when Derrick saw her, he seized it from her and
+wrung her by the hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Good old Sophia, you're going strong yet! And your toast is as balmy
+as ever!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Derrick, I hope you're well."</p>
+
+<p>Sophia dropped an old-fashioned curtsy. She was evidently a privileged
+servant, for she went on:</p>
+
+<p>"I knew your tea would be nothing without a bit of toast; and what the
+boy is, that will be the man. I fancy you, sir, going through life and
+looking for buttered toast and takin' it as your right—the right to
+enjoy what other folks have worked to give you, which is, so to say, a
+parable. Buttered toast comes to some quite easy, but 'tis not always
+wise."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Sophia, stop," said Joan, laughing. "Don't give us a treatise
+on buttered toast. If you spoil Derrick, don't blame him for being
+spoiled."</p>
+
+<p>Sophia edged towards the door. Looking over her shoulder, she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Derrick be one of fortune's favourites. He has never met
+discipline yet."</p>
+
+<p>"There, Derrick! Sophia knows all about you."</p>
+
+<p>Derrick nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you and Banty met yet?" he asked, munching his toast with much
+appreciation.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Joan. "I have spoken to her after church. She is usually
+out when I call. I know Lady Gascoigne best. She is always at home.
+Banty and I are strangers; she has nothing left of the small girl I
+used to know. She was a fat baby then."</p>
+
+<p>"Only a couple of years younger than yourself," said Derrick with a
+laugh. "Banty is very good sport. She's as good a shot as her father,
+which is saying a good deal. What do you think of the cousin living
+with them? He's a queer fish if ever there was one!"</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't met him. He has been up in town. Does he live here? Lady
+Gascoigne talks of him as if he is a kind of secretary or upper
+servant. He's a Gascoigne, isn't he?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's the son of a younger brother—Wilmot, his name is. He has
+travelled a good bit, I believe, is mad over books, and old Jossy
+is keeping him busy cataloguing his library and sorting out family
+chronicles. It's the fashion nowadays to publish family reminiscences,
+and I believe this fellow is trying to do it. He's too literary for me.
+Those book fellows are always such self-assertive brutes; I longed to
+pull his nose!"</p>
+
+<p>"By which I know he snubbed you," said Joan with her dimpling smile.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair had sat listening in silence; now he engaged Derrick's
+attention by asking him questions about the glebe fields and various
+other matters upon which he hoped he might be able to throw some light.</p>
+
+<p>Joan slipped away to finish her cart before darkness stopped her.
+Derrick came out to her on his way back to the Hall.</p>
+
+<p>"So you're settling down into a country parson's daughter," he said. "I
+heard you played the organ better than old Tabbs did. Had he chucked it
+before you came?"</p>
+
+<p>"Was he the old schoolmaster? Yes; we have a modern schoolmistress now
+who is practising hard to become organist. She has no idea of time,
+unfortunately, which is funny, because of course she teaches part
+singing in school. No, Derrick; I love it here, but I am not settling
+down. Shall I tell you a secret?" She stood up, and a grave, earnest
+look came into her face. "Yesterday I had the offer of a post in a
+first-class high school which will bring me in from £150 to £200 a
+year."</p>
+
+<p>"Good for you! But, oh, my dear Joan, don't you take to
+schoolmistressing! You don't know how much better I like you in your
+present setting!"</p>
+
+<p>"Being a man, that goes without saying," said Joan cheerfully. "But
+I am panting for higher, wider interests. I don't want to let my
+knowledge rust, and I love—I adore—imparting knowledge; they say I have
+the knack of it. Some, you know, have the brains, but not the faculty
+for teaching."</p>
+
+<p>"How can your father spare you?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is the rub! Of course he could not, unless Mother and Cecil are
+here; but it would do Cecil such a lot of good to take my place and run
+the parish. She wants an interest in life. She is so much stronger than
+she thinks she is, and I dread her getting self-centred. Dad and I are
+hopeful that they will settle down. We're going to do our very best to
+make them like it. Oh, what am I saying? But you know us, Derrick; it's
+no good hiding it from you."</p>
+
+<p>"Not a little bit!" said Derrick hastily. "But mark my words, your
+mother is not old enough to settle down in this quiet spot. In your
+heart you want to be up and away, and so will she. Your mother won't
+fit into this part. I'll bet you ten quid she won't!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan put out her hand as if to ward off a blow.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't say it. Wait and see. Dad has been a new man since he came
+here—so much brighter and more hopeful. He said to me last night:
+'Please God your mother and I will spend our old age together here. It
+is all I ask.'"</p>
+
+<p>Joan's voice shook, then she laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Go away, Derrick; you're making me too communicative, only I know
+you're as safe as a post! Here, give me a hand and push this into the
+coachhouse. Have you seen our old pony? He is over twenty, I am told,
+but he goes like steam. We bought the cart and harness from Dray Farm,
+and they threw the pony in for an extra three pounds. Wanted a good
+home for him, they said. I like those Drays."</p>
+
+<p>Derrick took hold of the cart and pushed her aside. Then for an
+instant, he let his hand rest on her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Joan, for auld lang syne, don't you leave poor Dominie in his old age!
+He's worth more than brats of girls who don't know one teacher from
+another."</p>
+
+<p>He gave her no time for reply, shouldered his gun, and vaulted clean
+over the white gate that led out into the road. Then, waving his hat,
+he cried:</p>
+
+<p>"If Jossy doesn't send you some of the pheasants that I help him to
+bring down, I'll give the order to his keeper myself. Au revoir!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan stood for a moment leaning her arms on the gate and watching his
+retreating figure in the dusk, then she gave a quick sigh and went
+indoors.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_2">CHAPTER II</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>THE TRAVELLERS</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>JOAN was having a busy day. Her mother and sister were expected that
+afternoon. She had been up since daybreak; both she and her father were
+nervously anxious that the old rectory should make a good impression
+upon the travellers. With the assistance of the odd man, Joan had swept
+and rolled the lawn and paths, tied up straggling chrysanthemums,
+and brought a fair amount of order and tidiness into the sweet
+old-fashioned garden.</p>
+
+<p>Sophia, after cleaning and scouring everything in the kitchen that she
+could lay her hands upon, was now immersed in cooking. The house fairly
+revelled in smells of hot cakes, hot tarts, hot bread, and a variety of
+other indications that the oven was doing its work in a satisfactory
+manner. Derrick had been as good as his word. A brace of pheasants
+had arrived at two o'clock, and Sophia seized them with a cook's
+delight. When Joan remonstrated, telling her they were too fresh, she
+triumphantly showed her the label with the date attached.</p>
+
+<p>"Three days old, Miss Joan, and just what is wanted for the mistress.
+The joint of beef will come in hot to-morrow and will eat cold on
+Sunday."</p>
+
+<p>So Joan let her have her way. She herself was in every room, assisted
+by the young housemaid; there were beds to make, linen and plate to
+be brought out of store cupboards; fresh cushions, and curtains, and
+tablecloths to take the place of shabby ones, flowers to be arranged,
+brass to be brightened, furniture to be polished. By half-past three
+in the afternoon Joan's feet were aching, but her heart dancing. As
+she piled the wood logs on the drawing-room fire, and looked round the
+dainty little home-like room, she said to herself, "Mother will fall in
+love with it. We have never lived in such a sweet house before!"</p>
+
+<p>She had worked hard at the drawing-room. She had bought some faded
+chintz curtains and hangings cheap at a country sale a few weeks
+before, and her clever fingers had cut out and made covers for the
+shabby, old, town furniture they had brought with them.</p>
+
+<p>Bowls of red and gold chrysanthemums brightened the dark corners; some
+framed water-colours, the handiwork of Mrs. Adair when a girl, covered
+the walls, which had been freshly hung with a delicate cream paper; the
+high, narrow, white marble mantelpiece held a few choice bits of china,
+and all the newest and brightest books filled the low bookcases in
+the recesses on either side of the fireplace. Joan's work-basket, the
+local paper, and some loose magazines on a small table gave a sense of
+homeliness to the room.</p>
+
+<p>Joan pulled up two easy chairs to the fire; she rearranged the cushions
+on the chintz couch; then she glanced out of the window, and saw her
+father pacing up and down the gravel path. He was waiting for the
+country fly which was to take him to the station to meet his wife. He
+looked very bent and old, and leaned more on his stick than he had ever
+done before; and yet she knew, although she could not see his face,
+that his eyes were shining with hope and expectancy, that the wrinkles
+were smoothed out upon his brow, that his soul was having one of the
+happiest times in his life. They had had several home-comings of this
+kind before, but never one under such favourable circumstances as this.
+As Joan watched him, sudden tears filled her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, oh why are there so many unfulfilled desires!" she exclaimed
+passionately. "Why are we such an ill-assorted family? Oh, God!"—And
+her whole soul rose up in its breathless longing—"Oh, God, don't let
+him be disappointed this time!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair, walking up and down with a smile upon his lips, was living
+in the past. Step by step he was watching himself as a young man from
+the time he went to his first curacy. How well he remembered the
+beautiful old abbey church in which he was so fortunate as to find
+himself! Would he ever forget the first time he was introduced by his
+rector, at a little evening gathering, to old General Lovell and his
+three beautiful and clever young daughters? He remembered now the
+little thrill that ran through him when, after some conversation in
+which the General did most of the talking and he the listening, he was
+clapped heartily on the shoulder by the old soldier, with the words:</p>
+
+<p>"Quite glad to speak with a black coat or two; am sick of the red ones.
+Come and see me, young fellow—come and dine with us to-morrow night!"</p>
+
+<p>How shyly and delightedly he had gone! How his simple soul was dazed at
+first by the bright brilliance of the Misses Lovell, and then attracted
+and then bewitched by the fascination of the one who always seemed to
+understand him and to make allowances for his awkwardness! Cecilia
+Lovell had been very good to him in those days.</p>
+
+<p>At first he had felt he was an outsider, a stranger in their set. The
+Lovells had always been a race of soldiers, and very distinguished
+ones. His forbears for centuries had been quiet churchmen, not very
+clever, not very gifted, but men of simple gentle lives and unselfish
+aims—perhaps of narrow prejudices and small, one-sided views. He could
+not look at life as the Lovells did; they could not look at life as he
+did. But Cecilia always seemed to fill the breach; and then, on one
+unforgettable day, he had breathed in her ear the old, old question,
+and, with shy averted face, she had given him his answer and the desire
+of his heart.</p>
+
+<p>The old General had been delighted. His motherless daughters were both
+a care and anxiety to him. Gout was troubling him. He was impatient
+to go abroad and try a cure, so he pushed on the marriage, and in
+three months' time, Cecilia Lovell became Mrs. Adair. Her father was
+generous, and gave her a liberal allowance.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of a curate's pay, the young couple were very fairly
+comfortable, until children began to arrive. Then John Adair gave up
+his curacy for a better stipend, and settled in the white cottage in
+Old Bellerton village. Two boys and two girls played with the orphan
+grandson of the rector, and for a time life dealt gently with the
+curate and his family. But Cecilia did not make a good curate's wife;
+she had an impatient intolerance of a small village life, and never
+rested till she got her husband to one of the large Midland towns.</p>
+
+<p>The rector looked back to his life there with regret that he had
+not been able to make his wife happy and content in the work which
+he loved. He was a simple man, and not a clever one; he read only
+theology; his wife's broader culture puzzled and distressed him. She
+made no secret of her dislike to the parishioners, and when her elder
+boy developed delicacy in one of his lungs, she took him for months at
+a time to her old home in the south.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually she stayed less and less with her husband. An elderly
+governess taught the girls and looked after the house when she was
+away. Then the boys were placed at school. Their mother's idea was for
+them to enter the Army; her husband objected because of expense, and
+because he was a man of peace and had a horror of war.</p>
+
+<p>Eventually the elder passed into Sandhurst, went out to India, and died
+of enteric six months afterwards. The younger one was now his mother's
+hope. But he developed the same delicacy of lung when nineteen, and
+though his mother, helped by her father, was able to take him out to
+Davos, he died of a rapid decline.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair returned to her husband and girls like a woman without heart
+and hope. Joan was always strong, but Cecil was as delicate-looking as
+the boys had been, and, nervously fearing she would go the same way,
+Mrs. Adair took her continually to Switzerland and to the Riviera by
+turns. The taste for continental life crept into her veins; she rarely
+was at home for more than three months in the year, and though doctors
+assured her that Cecil's lungs were absolutely sound, she refused to
+believe them.</p>
+
+<p>The death of General Lovell made it easier for her to gratify her love
+for sunny climes and dry, bracing air. But she had never been able to
+economise, and John Adair had the greatest difficulty in sending her
+as much money as she wanted. To ease the strain, he took pupils and
+coached them for college.</p>
+
+<p>When Joan's education was nearly finished, her godmother, Lady Alicia
+Fairchild, a lifelong friend of her mother's, determined to give her
+a chance of making an independent career. She was brilliantly clever,
+and her governess could teach her nothing more. So Lady Alicia sent
+her to Girton, and she had worked hard and successfully there. Then,
+at twenty-two, she came back to her father, and took the household
+reins into her hands. She did not anticipate staying at home, but
+circumstances kept her there. The old governess had left, and the house
+was sadly needing a mistress.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair got the offer of his present living, and then Joan threw
+her heart and soul into the move. Mr. Adair had always been painfully
+conscious that his wife could not adapt herself to the shabby terraced
+house and the economical life of a poor parson. Now his heart swelled
+with thankfulness. This living was worth £500 a year, and the rectory
+was a roomy, comfortable house.</p>
+
+<p>As he paced up and down the gravel path, he felt that good times were
+coming, that he and his wife would settle down in this quiet spot, and
+draw closer together than ever they had done before. His loyalty and
+admiration for his wife had never swerved. He knew she was impatient
+and irritable at times; he could never forget one revelation which she
+made to him in a moment of furious passion—and that was that she had
+married him partly to please her father, partly out of pique, as the
+man she really loved had jilted her; but in spite of this, he trusted
+that time and his undying love would win her and compel her to come
+closer to him.</p>
+
+<p>Joan's clear, keen insight showed her both her father's and mother's
+point of view. Mrs. Adair was distinctly her husband's superior in
+intellect; she tried, when young, to introduce him to a wider and a
+higher level of thought, but a certain denseness, some obstinacy, and
+the firm conviction that a man: and moreover a clergyman, could not
+and ought not to let his wife dictate or attempt to teach him, made
+all such attempts a dead failure. She now treated her husband with
+good-natured indifference. Sometimes Joan felt angry at her mother's
+attitude; sometimes she felt sorry for her. Now, her sympathies were
+mostly with her father.</p>
+
+<p>When the fly arrived, she ran out, buttoned up his greatcoat for him,
+and besought him not to wait about on the cold, draughty platform of
+the little station.</p>
+
+<p>"Take care of yourself, Dad. I know you will be hours too early for the
+train."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair had a horror of being late for anything, and his daughter
+often told him laughingly that his waiting hours consumed a good many
+days in the course of a twelvemonth.</p>
+
+<p>When the fly was off, Joan ran back into the house. Sophia came out of
+the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>"Has the master gone? He be in a dreadful rumpus to-day, Miss Joan."</p>
+
+<p>Sophia had been with them all since they were children; her tongue was
+never checked, for her heart was loyal and true.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you've been in the greatest fuss, Sophia. I've heard you
+giving it unsparingly to poor Jenny."</p>
+
+<p>"She's just one of these shiftless girls, Miss Joan. It's terrible to
+think of the children unborn, when their parents are such worthless
+stuff."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's laugh rang out merrily.</p>
+
+<p>"You dear old soul! Go back to your kitchen. Thank goodness, I don't
+worry over non-existent beings. And don't begin to talk to Jenny of her
+children when she's still unmarried."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you take me for!" said Sophia, in a shocked tone. Then she
+said: "Put on your pretty silk dress to-night, Miss Joan. Show the
+mistress your best."</p>
+
+<p>Joan shook her head. "Not to-night. They'll be tired with travelling.
+We shall all have our dinner and go to bed."</p>
+
+<p>Sophia disappeared. Joan went into the fire-lit drawing-room, and
+surveyed herself for a moment in a long mirror there. She was clad in
+a pale grey serge, rather Quakerish in style, with fine lace collar
+and cuffs. It served to show off her golden-brown head and bright
+colouring, but she shook her head at herself. "I always feel like a
+milkmaid beside Cecil." Then she took some pink roses out of a bowl and
+stuck them in her belt.</p>
+
+<p>It was four miles to the station. The time of waiting seemed long. Joan
+could neither read nor work; but at length the carriage wheels were
+heard, and the next moment, Joan and the servants were out in the old
+porch welcoming the tired travellers.</p>
+
+<p>Joan led her mother straight into the drawing-room, and undid her fur
+cloak before the fire.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair looked about her, then held out her delicate, white hands
+towards the fire and shivered.</p>
+
+<p>She was slim and very tall, a woman who was growing old gracefully, and
+more beautiful now than either of her daughters. Her snow-white hair,
+clustering round her brow, seemed to soften the rather hard-cut contour
+of her face. Her blue eyes were almost as deep and bright as Joan's,
+though her dark brows and lashes made them more severe. When she smiled
+at people, she could make them do anything, but she was hardly smiling
+now.</p>
+
+<p>"We have had a cold journey. Cecil is very tired. We slept the night in
+town. Of course, we could not come right through. London welcomed us,
+as usual, with a thick fog. And you seem bitterly cold down here."</p>
+
+<p>"It's very healthy; we are on high ground."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know, my dear Joan, I know. I have not forgotten the terribly
+long winters, when fires were a scarcity and it was doubtful whether
+one was justified in buying warm gloves for all the tiny chilblained
+hands. Your father speaks as if it is a new neighbourhood to which we
+are coming. He forgets that I know every inch of every road only too
+well."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you remember this room?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan determined to be cheerful.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair looked round it in a critical sort of way.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I give you credit for improving its looks. The poor curate's wife
+was invited sometimes up to dinner, and sorely was she bored as she sat
+in this room receiving good advice from the rector's wife!"</p>
+
+<p>Then she smiled sadly.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't torture me with recollections, Joan dear. When I was last here,
+I had my boys. It cannot be otherwise than sad, returning to this part."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's hopes sank. She felt she had no heart to show her mother over
+the house. Was it a mistake coming back to the place which held such
+unpleasant memories for her?</p>
+
+<p>And then through the door came Cecil, like a flash of light.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mother here? Oh, what a dear, wee, cosy room! Sophia has given me
+two smacking kisses, Mother, and Jenny—is that her name?—looked as if
+she were going to follow suit. I tried to freeze her, but I haven't the
+inches. Joan, you look blooming! My feet are like ice. How nice it is
+to be home."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil had drawn a low chair up to the fire as she talked, and was now
+untying her shoes. Slipping them off, she held out silk-clad feet to
+the fire.</p>
+
+<p>Joan shook her head at her. "Of course you're cold in such flimsy
+stockings—open-work, too! I'll lend you a pair of my sensible ones if
+you come upstairs."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I can't stand thick stockings."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil spoke in the accents of a spoiled child. "Tell me when the
+luggage is up," she said. "I'll toast myself here meanwhile."</p>
+
+<p>Joan slipped away. Her father and Benson, the odd man, were struggling
+in the hall with trunks, hat-boxes, portmanteaus, and every kind of
+bundle and bag. Joan soon sorted out the light luggage, and made Jenny
+help her in taking it up to the rooms. The trunks were gradually
+brought up by the flyman and Benson. When the hall was clear, Mr. Adair
+went into the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Welcome home, my dear!" he said, stepping forward and kissing his
+wife. Then, patting her shoulder, he added, with the tactlessness of a
+man, "And I'm hoping, please God, that you won't be wanting to run away
+from your poor old husband, now that you have such a pretty home as
+this."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear John," said Mrs. Adair, moving very slightly away from him,
+"do you forget that our sojourn abroad has been by doctor's orders?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes, my dear—of course I know. But little Cecil is getting
+stronger, and our bracing heath and pines will be the very thing for
+her."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil looked up at him from her seat by the fire and laughed. "I
+believe, like Diogenes, you would be happy in a tub, Dad! I am sure
+your letters led me to expect a mansion, a country seat! You see, I
+never remembered the place; I was too small when we left. Mother tried
+to prepare me. It's a duck of a place, and, for winter, very cosy, but
+in summer, I should feel I couldn't breathe. The ceilings seem down on
+one's head."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair glanced quickly and anxiously at her daughter as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"We must have the windows open," she said. "Do you feel this room
+airless, Cecil? It is the contrast after our big rooms in the hotels."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's all right, Mother. Don't you worry. I'm too cold at present
+to want anything but a hot fire. Dad, dear, would you mind bringing me
+my handbag in the hall? I left my handkerchief in it. I'm so tired or I
+would fetch it myself."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair left the room at once, and went upstairs to find the bag.</p>
+
+<p>Joan would not let him take it down again. "I'll do it, Dad, dear.
+Cecil is a lazy monkey not to fetch it herself. You must not spoil her.
+Dinner will be ready in half an hour. You will find hot water in your
+room."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Joan," said Mr. Adair, standing still in the passage, and
+speaking in a dispirited tone, "they find the rooms too small and
+airless!"</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" said Joan, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>She ran downstairs, afraid to trust herself to say anything further.
+She chatted gaily to her mother till she had seen her comfortably
+established in her room upstairs. Then she went down to put final
+touches on the dinner-table, and then she slipped into her black
+evening dress.</p>
+
+<p>They all met in the quaint oak-raftered dining-room, a little later, in
+better spirits.</p>
+
+<p>Sophia's soup, her pheasants, and her sweet omelette were beyond
+reproach.</p>
+
+<p>When dessert was on the table, Joan pointed to the apples and pears in
+triumph.</p>
+
+<p>"Out of our own orchard! We are self-supplying. All our vegetables,
+chickens, eggs—and a fat pig to be made into bacon after Christmas—are
+our very own. Isn't it delicious, Cecil?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's rather a change after that smoky, grimy Nuthampstead," said
+Cecil. She leant back in her chair looking exceedingly pretty. She was
+very slight and small, with an ivory pallor, dark eyes and hair, and
+delicate features. To-night a faint rose blush was on her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"A regular little aristocrat from the top of her head to the soles of
+her feet," Sophia said of her; and it was true.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil was a reproduction of Mrs. Adair's own mother, who had been a
+very noted beauty at Court. Her clothes were never anything but dainty
+in the extreme, though her mother and she had the good taste to dress
+very quietly. To-night she had a simple blue crepon gown, with old
+lace softening the bodice. Her dark hair was bound round with a silver
+braid, but her neck and arms were white as the driven snow, and her
+face was almost ethereal in its delicate beauty.</p>
+
+<p>Joan was rather silent. She let her mother do most of the talking. Mrs.
+Adair had many amusing anecdotes to tell and talked of many people and
+things.</p>
+
+<p>"It was so strange," she said. "We met General Long in town, and he
+brought his son to see us. He is now a captain in the 12th Hussars, and
+just home from India. They dined with us. It was interesting hearing
+about India again. But Harry Long gave an alarming account of the
+sedition about the Bengal district. He says it is simply seething with
+an undercurrent of hatred to British rule. People make light of it and
+refuse to believe it—just as in the days before the Indian Mutiny. I
+suppose we shall go on making light of it until a crisis comes, and
+then there will be a lot of unnecessary suffering and bloodshed."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I hope not," said Mr. Adair, looking across at his wife with
+startled eyes. "I hope we shall not have another mutiny or war in
+India. Mrs. White's son has just gone out to India. It would break the
+poor old body's heart if anything happened to her boy."</p>
+
+<p>A little smile flitted across Mrs. Adair's face. "We will hope young
+White will have his life preserved, my dear John. But there are a few
+more English to be considered besides him in our Indian Empire?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes—of course. War is horrible. May God preserve us from it; and
+Indian wars always seem worse than those nearer home. How thankful we
+must be that we have no sons out there!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan saw her mother wince and quiver as if someone had struck her
+across the face. She stopped talking, and left the table almost
+directly.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair was perfectly oblivious that, as usual, he had blundered. He
+sat on in the dining-room and smoked his pipe over the fire, smiling
+happily to himself.</p>
+
+<p>"It's nice to have them home again. We shall be together now!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair and Cecil retired very early to rest, and Joan was nothing
+loath to follow their example. She had had a tiring day, and foresaw a
+good many tiring ones still to come.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_3">CHAPTER III</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>A BUSY DAY</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>THE next day was Saturday, and if Joan had not had a fund of cheeriness
+and good temper in herself and an unflinching amount of pluck and
+patience, she would never have been able to get through it as happily
+and easily as she did.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair breakfasted in bed. Cecil arrived downstairs at ten o'clock
+and expected Joan to sit and talk to her whilst she dawdled over her
+cup of tea and eggs and bacon.</p>
+
+<p>"What can you have to do? Let Jenny alone; you are always fussing after
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Cecil, I am due at the schoolhouse to receive club money at
+ten. I must fly. I expect you will be busy unpacking this morning, so
+you won't miss me. I wonder if you would mind putting your breakfast
+things together on a tray. This is a busy morning with us. I shall be
+back in an hour's time. Do you think you could darn a hole in Dad's
+surplice? The laundress has torn it in the wash."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil laughed a little.</p>
+
+<p>"You are determined to set me to work; but I think after our hard
+travelling you might allow me a day's grace. I haven't even been shown
+over the house yet."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was gone. Cecil saw her flying down the garden path, but she was
+stopped at the gate by a small boy. Cecil wondered at the serene,
+cheerful way in which Joan seemed to be talking to him. Then she went
+on, but a little slower, for the small boy was trying to keep pace with
+her. Cecil smiled to herself, then yawned.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't take the yoke upon me yet. I do hate the ways of a parson's
+house! But I'll go and unpack, and I suppose I might put up my
+breakfast things, though why that small Jenny can't come in and do it,
+is past my comprehension."</p>
+
+<p>She gathered the crockery together, placed it on a tray, and actually
+carried it out to the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>Sophia, as usual, was immersed in cooking, but her kitchen was
+beautifully clean, and as tidy and bright as a new pin.</p>
+
+<p>"Here I am, you see, Sophia—back into the midst of the daily drudgery!"</p>
+
+<p>"And why should you not be?" demanded Sophia, rolling up the dough at
+which she was Working with quick, deft hands, and looking up at Cecil
+with her small, bright eyes. "Why should you not be here to bring a bit
+of ease into the house by a pair of willing hands? 'Tis not right, Miss
+Cecil, to make life a burden to Miss Joan."</p>
+
+<p>"Joan! She never feels anything a burden."</p>
+
+<p>"That's your mistake. What brings burdens into the world? 'Tis some
+folks shifting their share of work to others' shoulders. If all did
+their share, none would be overburdened."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil put her tray down and swung herself up lightly on the old
+dresser, where she sat swinging her feet, ready to argue. She loved a
+good argument with Sophia upon any subject.</p>
+
+<p>"But that is folly, Sophia; that is the mistake the Socialists make.
+They want everyone to be equal. How can they be when some are weak and
+some are strong? You want a dull, monotonous creation, which God did
+not want, or He would have made it. You want everyone made after the
+same pattern, with the same characters and dispositions, all taking the
+same share of life's work. Imagine it! When a man who knows he can do
+it, and has the ambition to bear big burdens comes along, he must never
+want to do anything or bear anything more than his neighbour! Don't you
+see what folly it would be?"</p>
+
+<p>"You may be clever with your tongue, Miss Cecil, but you're too clever
+to let all your powers rust, and sit still with folded hands whilst
+others wait on you. You may not be as strong as Miss Joan, but you be
+quite strong enough to take those cups and plates into the back kitchen
+and wash them. It's what Miss Joan would do, were she in your place."</p>
+
+<p>"But she isn't, and she never will be. And I live by principles of my
+own, Sophia, and I never fold my hands, never! I don't know how to do
+it. It's one of my principles never to interfere with anybody else's
+business. I should say the washing up of these plates is Jenny's
+business, is it not? Or is it yours? It certainly is not mine."</p>
+
+<p>She slipped down from the dresser and went out of the kitchen humming
+gaily to herself.</p>
+
+<p>Sophia shook her head after her retreating figure.</p>
+
+<p>"She has been spoilt all her life, and is just becoming one of these
+useless creatures which are a curse to them that begat them."</p>
+
+<p>Joan did not return to the house till nearly twelve.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been delayed. I had to go and see a sick woman," she said,
+meeting her sister sauntering up and down the garden. "I generally go
+into the church and clean the brasses at this time. Will you come with
+me, Cecil? And if you were to pick a few flowers and bring with you, I
+should be glad. Where is Mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Cecil, laughing; "she is preparing a sad sheaf of bills
+for Dad. She wants to go through accounts with him as soon as she can.
+He has kept us terribly short of money, Joan! I can't tell you how
+awkward it has been!"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Cecil, his bank balance is much overdrawn now. We have had
+great expenses settling in here. Of course it will be better in time.
+I do hope you and Mother will make a good long stay here now: You must
+try and get her to do it. Then we shall pull round. It has been a great
+strain on him to find the necessary money."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil did not answer, but she accompanied Joan into the church and put
+a few flowers into the vases there, and a little bunch of autumn roses
+on the grave of the late rector, whose widow had requested that it
+might be done. Then they came back to the house and found their father
+and mother deep in accounts in the study.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair came to the lunch table with a harassed look upon his face
+and a little extra stoop from his shoulders. Mrs. Adair had flushed
+cheeks and bright eyes. It was rather a silent meal. Joan and Cecil did
+most of the talking.</p>
+
+<p>As the rector left the room after lunch, he said to his wife, with his
+usual smiling face:</p>
+
+<p>"I am not to be seen on Saturday afternoons till tea-time. But you know
+my parson's habits, my dear. If Cecil would like to take you for a
+drive, we have the pony and jingle ready for your use. Joan, you'll be
+having the choir practice at three, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," responded Joan; "we'll respect your sermon-making, Dad, and
+won't come near you."</p>
+
+<p>"And you and I will finish and square up accounts on Monday," said the
+rector, turning to his wife.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, very well. I am not in a hurry, I assure you."</p>
+
+<p>They separated. Joan was conscious of disturbance in the atmosphere.
+She went up to her room for a few minutes' quiet. She felt to-day as
+if she could not overtake things. Her mother had asked her to come
+and help her unpack. Sophia expected her to give out the linen to be
+aired, Jenny was hopelessly behind with everything. It was a lovely
+day, and apples ought to be picked in the orchard. The flowers in the
+drawing-room and dining-room required to be freshened up.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" she thought. "For six pairs of hands at least!"</p>
+
+<p>And then she sat down by her window.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not let my soul get chafed if I can help it!" she said.</p>
+
+<p>She drew a well-worn little Bible to her. The quiet and fresh coolness
+of her room soothed her. She turned to her morning reading, the lesson
+for the day. She had read it hastily when she rose that morning, but a
+whiff of its fragrance had been with her ever since; and now she looked
+at the verse again which had been simmering in her mind:</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Strengthened with all might, according to His glorious power unto all
+patience, and long-suffering with joyfulness."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>"Yes!" she mused. "Patience, long-suffering, joyfulness—a strange
+mixture, but just what I need!"</p>
+
+<p>A soft, happy glow came into her blue eyes. Joan's religion was real
+and very precious to her; but she could not talk about it. For a moment
+she closed her eyes, and her lips moved. Then a robin perched on her
+window ledge outside and burst into his autumn song.</p>
+
+<p>Joan smiled happily as she got up from her seat.</p>
+
+<p>"And that small scamp hasn't the least idea how he is going to be fed
+through the winter!"</p>
+
+<p>She sang under her breath as she went into her mother's room. For the
+rest of the afternoon she was more than busy, but at tea-time she sat
+down to enjoy a well-earned rest. They gathered in the low, quaint
+drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair asked that a cup of tea should be sent him. He was not a
+clever man and sometimes found it very difficult not to repeat himself
+from Sunday to Sunday. To-day he was nervously anxious that his sermon
+should be appreciated by his intellectual wife. He sat looking over
+some very old sermons of his, written with the fire and energy of
+youth, if not with the mellowed experience of some of his later ones.</p>
+
+<p>And at length, he remembered a sermon he had preached in the abbey
+church in which he had first seen his wife. He remembered two or three
+people had complimented him upon it, General Lovell amongst the number.
+He had never preached from the same text again. He looked over it,
+then determined to take it and improve upon it, if he could. He had
+a longing in the depths of his heart that his wife should appreciate
+and express her appreciation of his preaching. She was not given to
+church-going; she hardly ever attended the weekday services, and when
+she was home, had a habit of going to see some of her many friends, and
+staying with them for the week-end.</p>
+
+<p>Very carefully did the rector read over his old sermon. Very earnestly
+did he pray, as he revised it, that it might not only be the means of
+helping and blessing his flock, but in particular his wife and family.</p>
+
+<p>After tea, Joan produced a large work-basket.</p>
+
+<p>"You look like the mother of a family," laughed Cecil. She was sitting
+on the hearth-rug doing nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Her mother was at an old-fashioned davenport writing letters.</p>
+
+<p>"The house linen is in a very ancient stage. Come, Cecil, help me. Here
+is a thimble."</p>
+
+<p>"I know you are going to hand me over the surplice I would not do this
+morning. Do you always go on like this, Joan? It is sordid drudgery.
+You are just an upper servant in the house."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't quote a verse which I'm sure you know, about 'the trivial
+round, the common task.' Things must be done, Cecil, dear. You would
+not like to have come back to a dirty, untidy, uncared-for home."</p>
+
+<p>"It's rather a poor, shabby one," said Cecil discontentedly.</p>
+
+<p>She rubbed a slipper up and down the threadbare carpet and looked round
+the room with a puckered brow.</p>
+
+<p>"That's unkind of you," said Joan good-humouredly. "If you only knew
+how hard I worked to make you like it! And though we've been here such
+a short time, I have already learnt to love it. You haven't seen its
+beauties. I look out of my window and watch the sunsets behind that
+belt of pines. They are tipped with gold, and their straight, pure pink
+trunks are edged with crimson. The owls begin to hoot. Sometimes I
+put a shawl over my head and go out on that little hillock of heather
+at the back of our orchard, and when I have inhaled all the delicious
+odour of pines and heather, I turn back into the house. Its quaint
+rooms and passages, and the country smell in it is joy to me."</p>
+
+<p>"I feel as if I can hardly breathe here!" Cecil drew a long sigh, then
+she coughed, shivered, and drew near to the fire. "I find it cold and
+depressing. I'm not an out-of-door person like you. I don't revel in
+open windows, and cold baths, and draughts all day long."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you caught a fresh cold Cecil?" Mrs. Adair showed that she was
+not oblivious of the conversation going on. Her tone was anxious.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no," said Cecil carelessly. "I'm much as usual. Is my bedroom fire
+lighted yet, Joan? I think I'll go up and have a laze before dinner."</p>
+
+<p>Joan dropped her work and left the room. In a few minutes she came back.</p>
+
+<p>"It is lighted now, Cecil, and the room does not seem cold."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil nodded, then got up from the rug and went out.</p>
+
+<p>Joan took up her work again.</p>
+
+<p>Her mother left her writing and came to the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to have a little talk with you, Joan. You seem like a
+will-o'-the-wisp—in and out of the house a dozen times in an hour."</p>
+
+<p>"Saturday is a busy day, Mother; but I am quiet now."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked up, and her blue eyes encountered her mother's dark, bright
+ones fixed upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"I am writing to Lady Alicia; I had a letter from her to-day. She asks
+me if you have snapped your links with college for good and for all, or
+whether your career there has led to anything?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan darned away at the surplice, but her cheeks grew hot. She had not
+meant to confide in her mother at present, but there seemed no help for
+it now.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been offered the post of a teacher in a high school, Mother. It
+is a good thing. I should begin with a hundred and fifty pounds a year."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair was silent for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you given your answer yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I must in a week's time."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you want to take it up?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan's eyes gleamed.</p>
+
+<p>"I should love it above everything!" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"The idea is most distasteful to me," said Mrs. Adair. "But I know
+girls do it nowadays. I suppose I ought to adapt my thoughts and
+feelings to the times."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," Joan said quickly and a little nervously, "I feel we could
+not leave Dad alone now; but I hoped that perhaps Cecil would be strong
+enough to stay here and help in the parish."</p>
+
+<p>"Cecil will never be strong enough for parish work," Mrs. Adair said
+decidedly. "I am in continual anxiety over her. She looks as if a
+breath of wind could carry her away. Our doctor at Cannes told me that
+sunshine was absolutely essential to her. He advised Algiers this
+winter, but I suppose it is impossible."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe she would be quite happy and well here," said Joan
+desperately; "it is so very healthy, Mother."</p>
+
+<p>"I did not find it so when you were children," said Mrs. Adair
+bitterly. "My memory takes me back to the biting east winds every
+spring, and the struggle to keep the little ones warm and free from
+colds and chilblains through the long winters. It laid the seeds of
+disease in the boys, and made Cecil what she is at present."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mother!" gasped Joan. "I had no idea you felt like this about it.
+We ought not to have come."</p>
+
+<p>"Beggars cannot be choosers. It gives us an extra two hundred pounds a
+year, and it is all right for you and your father."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you not—not going to try a winter here?" asked Joan falteringly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think it will be possible. In any case, Cecil cannot take your
+place, and parish work is above and beyond me. I never ought to have
+been a parson's wife, and that is the simple truth. The parish comes
+before the home with your father. He told me that six months after we
+were married. I, like the silly child I was, thought only of the cosy
+home I was going to make and keep for him. The parish was of no account
+in my eyes then."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair smiled, but there was a wistful sadness in her tone. Joan
+looked at her and thought that she had never seen her mother look more
+beautiful. As a little child she had adored her, but Mrs. Adair had
+given most of her affection to the delicate little daughter, and not to
+the healthy, rosy romp. Joan and her mother, in spite of intellectual
+sympathies, had always lived apart from each other, and there was a
+certain amount of constraint between them now.</p>
+
+<p>Yet Mrs. Adair had never been quite so confidential with Joan before.
+The girl's warm heart quickened and glowed. She dropped her work and
+went down on her knees before her mother impulsively. Taking her hands
+in hers, she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, dear, Dad is getting old. He may have made mistakes when he
+was a young man, but one can't blame him for his enthusiasm for work.
+Now he appreciates his home very much. If you could only have heard him
+since he has been here! 'Joan, don't you think your mother will like
+it? I have cut down that elm to give her a peep of the heath from her
+window! She must like the space and room in this old, rambling house!'
+Oh, Mother! His one desire has been that our home should contain us
+all, as it used to long ago."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair looked into the glowing fire in front of her. She did not
+withdraw her hands from Joan's clasp; but her voice came in its cold
+frostiness like a cold water douche upon Joan's hot spirit.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, you talk as if I am wilfully staying away from you from
+mere caprice. Surely you know that it is Cecil's health that keeps us
+abroad. I have not found fault with the house. I think you have done
+wonders in it. Naturally the small, low rooms seem airless to us after
+our lofty hotel rooms abroad, but you have done your best to make
+them comfortable. And now there is another matter I must mention. You
+are under-staffed. It is not possible to work a house of this size
+comfortably with two maids. As Cecil says, you are wearing yourself
+out doing the work of a servant half your days. And this little Jenny
+is too young for her duties. Get a third maid as quickly as you can.
+She will ease everyone all round. Sophia may know of some one locally;
+she is a native of this place and had a large family of brothers and
+sisters, if I remember rightly."</p>
+
+<p>"But," said Joan, going back to her chair and taking up her work again;
+"I am not always in such a bustle as you have seen me. When Dad and I
+are alone, we get along without a ripple. Of course, every extra person
+makes a difference, and the extra fires, and the waiting, and the
+novelty of it has rather turned Jenny's head and made her appear less
+efficient than she really is. We have to economise just now, because
+we have had such heavy expenses. Of course, if—if you are not going
+away just yet—we can get extra help. You see, Mother, if I took this
+post which is offered to me, I could give Dad some material help. It is
+rather a puzzle to me how to act."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair was about to speak, when the door opened and the rector came
+in rubbing his hands cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Cecilia, dearest, it is delightful to come in and find you here.
+I have earned a rest, I consider."</p>
+
+<p>He pulled up an easy chair to the fire, then leant over and patted
+his wife's hand caressingly. "How is your baby? It's such a lovely
+moonlight night. I'm hoping for a fine day to-morrow. Times have
+altered since we were here before. I have only two services to take
+in this village. Old Bradsbrook is worked from Nettleburn, so you see
+I need no curate. I have never felt heartier in my life! And I really
+believe both you and little Cecil will soon derive the greatest benefit
+from our bracing air. Joan, the squire has just sent in another brace
+of pheasants. Very kind of him, isn't it? You will like to renew your
+acquaintance with Lady Gascoigne, will you not, Cecilia? You and she
+always got on so well together."</p>
+
+<p>"Did we? I forget."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair rose from her chair and went across to her writing-table.</p>
+
+<p>"I must finish my letters," she said. "The post goes at seven, does it
+not?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair's face fell. He dearly loved a chat between tea and dinner.
+He and Joan generally talked over the village at this time, and told
+each other any interesting bits of information which it had been their
+lot to gather during the day. And he had been looking forward to a
+firelight chat with his wife. He had so many things to tell her, and
+somehow or other he had hardly seen her since she had arrived. For a
+moment he sank back into his chair like an old man; then his natural
+liking for country gossip could not be restrained.</p>
+
+<p>"Joan," he said in a husky, penetrating whisper, "Rolleston Court is
+opened. Major Armitage returned two days ago."</p>
+
+<p>"Please don't whisper, John; it is so distracting. You won't disturb me
+in the least if you talk."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair half turned in her chair as she spoke. Her husband
+brightened up.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, my dear. You are clever enough to write, I know, and give
+half an ear to my news at the same time."</p>
+
+<p>"And has Major Armitage brought back a wife with him, Dad?" Joan asked
+with interest.</p>
+
+<p>"No; he is quite alone. Rather strange, isn't it? And it seems old
+Mrs. Bone was officious enough to ask after his lady, and when she was
+coming. He told her he had no lady coming, and dismissed her on the
+spot. She is dreadfully put out. He paid her a month's wages, and said
+she would not suit him. And now Sophia's widowed sister, Maria Bucke,
+has been engaged by him. You remember the rivalry between her and Mrs.
+Bone as to which should get the post as his housekeeper. Of course,
+Maria is triumphant."</p>
+
+<p>"And Sophia will be delighted. But what a martinet he must be! Does
+he think a country village will not talk when such dainty furniture
+comes down by rail? Old Mrs. Bone told me herself that there is a most
+exquisite little boudoir fitted up for a lady's use, even down to a
+work-basket."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how you gossip!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair said it with her light laugh, and Joan joined her in the
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Major Armitage is the centre of our interest just now, Mother. After
+shutting up the place all these years because he is too poor to live
+there, he has come into money and has returned to it. He has spared no
+money in doing it up. We quite expected he was going to be married."</p>
+
+<p>"We met him in Italy last year," said Mrs. Adair, letting her pen drop
+between her fingers. "He is a great musician. I never enjoyed anything
+so much in my life as listening to him playing in a little monastery
+chapel out in the country. We were passing by, and it was like music
+from another world. We were told afterwards who it was that was
+playing. He is a peculiar man—very reserved—and as a rule will not go
+into society. I suppose he felt leaving the Service very much. Was it
+not blindness that made him do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Joan. "Lady Gascoigne was talking about him the other day.
+It was in the Boer War. They said he would lose his sight, and he sent
+in his papers; and then, four years afterwards, a clever oculist cured
+him completely."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't imagine what he will do with himself down here," said Mrs.
+Adair. Then she went on with her writing.</p>
+
+<p>Joan and her father chatted on until the dressing bell for dinner
+sounded.</p>
+
+<p>Both Mrs. Adair and Cecil went to bed very early.</p>
+
+<p>As Joan lay her head on her pillow, she went over again in her mind her
+short talk with her mother.</p>
+
+<p>"It will break Dad's heart if they go off again! I wish—I wish—Oh, why
+does marriage sometimes bring such a gulf between husband and wife? It
+makes one dread it for oneself!"</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_4">CHAPTER IV</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>RECTORY LIFE</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>SUNDAY morning was bright and clear, but Mr. Adair came to breakfast
+with a dejected air.</p>
+
+<p>"Your mother is not very well. She is staying in bed," he said to Joan.</p>
+
+<p>It was so like old times that Joan almost smiled. She was sorry for
+her father, for he had set his heart on seeing his wife in church that
+morning, and the disappointment was great. Joan was hurrying through
+her morning duties, for Sunday school claimed her at ten, and she went
+straight into church afterwards. As she was going out of the house,
+Cecil came down the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you coming to church?" Joan asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't feel much like it. Is the church warmed properly?"</p>
+
+<p>"As warm as a toast. Do come, Cecil. Dad will be so sorry if you don't."</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I see Major Armitage there?" Cecil asked, mischief in her eyes.
+"I rather took a liking to him abroad. I was the only woman he would
+speak to in the hotel."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's rather impatient spirit got the better of her. "You ought to be
+ashamed of yourself. What is church for?"</p>
+
+<p>"To meet one's neighbours," said Cecil, provokingly, "and criticise
+best hats and coats."</p>
+
+<p>Joan slammed the door after her.</p>
+
+<p>"She's as godless as a heathen!"</p>
+
+<p>But before she got to school, she was taking herself to task for
+impatience.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never win her if I am so hot-tempered. How badly I have begun
+the day!"</p>
+
+<p>Her class soothed her. Joan was a born lover of children, and they all
+adored her. When she went into church, and took her seat at the organ,
+she forgot all her vexations. The little church was full, for Mr. Adair
+was already winning the hearts of his people by his simple kindliness
+and whole-hearted interest in every individual.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil came in late. She sat alone in the rectory seat, and hardly
+hid her curiosity about the various members of the congregation. The
+squire's large seat was full. Sir Joseph and Lady Gascoigne were most
+regular in their attendance at church. Sir Joseph was the rector's
+churchwarden. Their daughter Rose, or Banty as she was usually called,
+was with them, also Wilmot Gascoigne, Derrick, and two other men who
+had been asked down for shooting.</p>
+
+<p>Behind them sat the doctor's wife, a pretty little woman, with two
+fascinating small boys. A maiden lady completed the circle of Old
+Bellerton society; but following Cecil's entrance came Major Armitage.
+He slipped into the last seat next the door, and was the first to leave
+the church. Cecil's hopes of speaking to him were frustrated. She was
+looking very pretty, dressed in a pale blue cloth coat and skirt and
+black furs. When Derrick came up to her after church, she greeted him
+warmly.</p>
+
+<p>"You haven't grown much," were his first words.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't make personal remarks, or I shall do the same. Do come back to
+lunch with us. It is so dull. I feel I could talk to a pump, I'm so
+bored."</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't be bored if I lived in the same house as Joan!" He tried to
+look severe, but failed.</p>
+
+<p>Then the Gascoignes came up. Derrick did not accept the invitation to
+lunch, but he had a word aside with Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"How are things going? Are they humming?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well—we've hardly shaken down yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Get the little malingerer to buckle to!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, hush, Derrick! I won't have it."</p>
+
+<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"She's a radiant picture of health and beauty."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Joan heartily. "I love to watch her. You know how I always
+have admired Cecil, though I suppose, as she belongs to me, I ought not
+to do it. I must speak to Mrs. Blount."</p>
+
+<p>She nodded to him and crossed the road to speak to the doctor's wife.
+The boys, Harry and Alan, seized hold of her.</p>
+
+<p>"You told us you would show us where nuts grow!"</p>
+
+<p>"We're waiting for you to come out with us."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't do it yet," Joan told them.</p>
+
+<p>They hung upon her arms.</p>
+
+<p>"You must fix a day now. She must, Mums. She promised."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll try next Wednesday afternoon," Joan told them.</p>
+
+<p>They were pacified. Then Miss Borfield, who lived in a tiny cottage at
+the end of the village, came up to talk to Joan of a sick girl in whom
+she was interested.</p>
+
+<p>When she eventually reached home, she found her mother in the
+drawing-room on the chintz couch.</p>
+
+<p>"I have one of my headaches, Joan. I won't come into the dining-room to
+lunch. Send me something in here."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil was quiet and a little glum at luncheon. She was a girl of many
+moods. When Joan asked her how she liked the Gascoignes, she said:</p>
+
+<p>"That Banty is simply a great cow! 'Do you hunt? Like to join our
+hockey club? S'pose you don't shoot?' And when I had said 'no' to all
+these queries, she turned her back on me."</p>
+
+<p>"She is rather awkward," said Joan, laughing. "But she is very
+good-natured. I have met her once or twice striding over the heath
+with her dogs. She loves Nature, and so do I; so we have that taste in
+common."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you notice Major Armitage? He was like a man in a dream while you
+were playing the voluntary. I know he was longing to do it himself."</p>
+
+<p>"Armitage," said Mr. Adair, rousing himself out of a fit of
+abstraction. "He came to me in the vestry; asked if he might have
+the key of the organ sometimes. I asked him if he was a good enough
+musician to warrant my turning over our beautiful little organ to him,
+but he seemed to think he was."</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Dad!" protested Joan. "You need not have put it so badly. But
+I don't feel inclined to give him my key, for I am so often in the
+church at odd times. The organ is becoming rather dear to me!"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, I have a duplicate in the vestry. I gave it to him on the
+spot. I liked the man, and mean to call on him as soon as I can."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil brightened up.</p>
+
+<p>"Ask him to dinner, Dad. I like him too, and you know mother's weakness
+for soldiers."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was off again to afternoon school after lunch. Cecil and her
+mother spent the afternoon by the drawing-room fire. Neither of them
+attended the evening service, and when Mr. Adair hoped to have a little
+rest, and quiet talk with his wife after supper, she went up to bed.</p>
+
+<p>It was always the way. For years his wife had eluded his company,
+though in public she was bright and engaging.</p>
+
+<p>On Monday came an invitation to dine at the Hall. But only one daughter
+was asked, and Cecil pouted with discontent.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure I don't want to go," Joan said good-temperedly. "You can take
+my place, Cecil."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair wished to refuse.</p>
+
+<p>"These country people bore me so Sir Joseph's conversation is only on
+sport, Lady Gascoigne's on needlework and servants."</p>
+
+<p>But her husband wanted her to go, and said so very emphatically. She
+smiled at his eagerness, but gave way.</p>
+
+<p>"The position of a parson's wife is pitiful," she said to the girls
+when her husband had left the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Then why did you become one?" laughed Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"I know what you mean," said Joan sympathetically; "but I think the
+Gascoignes like people for themselves. They're too well bred to
+patronise."</p>
+
+<p>Later that day Joan crossed the heath with her little terrier Bob;
+she was going to see a sick person. As her feet trod the dead heather
+underfoot, and she breathed the fresh keen pine-laden air, her spirits
+rose. The day had been full of small pinpricks; the daily routine of a
+quiet household had been upset; the rector and his wife had been having
+long discussions over ways and means, and accounts generally brought
+him distress of mind.</p>
+
+<p>At the back of Joan's thoughts, through everything that was said and
+done, was, "Shall I be able to leave home?"</p>
+
+<p>She could not see the way out. Every fresh hour convinced her that
+her place could not and would not be taken by Cecil. She was loth to
+acknowledge it. Now as she lifted up her head and surveyed the wide
+expanse above and around her, the words again came to her mind:</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Strengthened with all might . . . unto all patience and long-suffering
+with joyfulness."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say," she mused; "that may be the life God has in store for me,
+not out in the world doing the work which seems big in my short-sighted
+eyes, but just the humdrum life at home which makes such demands on
+one's patience. How glad I am that I can leave it to Him. If He closes
+the outer gate, I can work within. And I will, oh! I will, if I can, do
+it joyfully."</p>
+
+<p>Yet she wiped away some smarting tears as she walked.</p>
+
+<p>Presently she met Banty Gascoigne, who was also alone.</p>
+
+<p>Banty was a fresh-coloured, rather plain young person, and had that
+slightly roughened and hardened look about her face that comes of being
+continually out of doors.</p>
+
+<p>"Weatherproof and waterproof," she called herself. She had fair hair
+and blue eyes, with rather a wide mouth and square chin. She was always
+dressed in the severest tailor tweeds, and wore very short skirts.</p>
+
+<p>She waved her stick to Joan as she approached. Though they were not at
+present very intimate friends, Banty was thoroughly unconventional.</p>
+
+<p>"I do like to meet a walker like myself," she said; "and you walk as if
+you liked it."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do," said Joan; "it takes years off my life when I'm out
+of doors."</p>
+
+<p>Banty laughed appreciatively.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you going? I am 'de trop' this afternoon. They had enough
+guns without me, which was distinctly nasty of them; and mother has a
+tea-party. I expect you wonder who can be at it, but it is three old
+cousins who have motored over, and the Irwins from Chesterbrook; and
+they're every one of them so Early Victorian that I am a fish out of
+water; and they're, of course, shocked and disgusted with me."</p>
+
+<p>Joan explained her errand.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it a bore to trudge out on such visits?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan shook her head happily.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a proper parson's daughter in principles; but you oughtn't to
+have that dimple; it gives you a flighty look."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm so sorry," Joan said, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll walk a bit of the way with you," announced Banty. "Are you coming
+to dinner with us?"</p>
+
+<p>"The family is. I dare say Cecil will come instead of me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no; you were asked, and you must come. Derrick will be furious if
+you don't."</p>
+
+<p>"That won't distress me," said Joan, laughing. Then she stood still for
+a moment, watching a flock of curlews overhead.</p>
+
+<p>"Could you bring one of them down?" said Banty with gleaming eyes. "I
+could, if I had my gun."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose it is the sense of skill in aim that pleases," said Joan,
+looking at her thoughtfully; "it can't be shedding blood."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk like a Quaker! I thought you were a good sort! Derrick
+swears you are."</p>
+
+<p>There was a little silence between the two; then Banty said abruptly:</p>
+
+<p>"I should die of the dumps if I were in your shoes, and yet you look so
+jolly."</p>
+
+<p>"What is the matter with my shoes? They fit me well." Then a quick
+sigh escaped her. "Don't try to make me discontented; some people put
+their feet into the wrong shoes, and then comes disaster. I think,
+personally, I should like to exchange mine for a bigger pair. But if
+it's not to be, it is not."</p>
+
+<p>"I only meant I couldn't stand pottering about the village and teaching
+village children and visiting the sick."</p>
+
+<p>"Teaching is glorious!" said Joan with sudden enthusiasm. "There is
+nothing equal to it. Fancy being able to take a hand in moulding or
+forming a character. That is work that will last for an eternity."</p>
+
+<p>Banty stared at her. She always dropped a subject which she did not
+understand, and she did so now.</p>
+
+<p>Then Joan began to talk about the country and dogs and horses. Banty
+waxed eloquent at once. They talked and walked together, and when Banty
+eventually turned back and Joan went on her way alone, Banty, for one,
+determined to pursue the acquaintance already begun.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later Joan was returning in the dusk. As she was passing a
+rather lonely group of pines her small terrier dashed forward, barking
+furiously. She saw in the gloom a man's stooping figure, and as Bob
+would not obey her call, she stepped over to see what was the matter.
+She could not recognise the man in the dusk, but his voice was that of
+a gentleman, and he was extricating his own dog from a gin. There was a
+clump of gorse and brambles in which one had been set for rabbits.</p>
+
+<p>"Can I help at all?" Joan asked sympathetically. "I do hope he isn't
+much hurt."</p>
+
+<p>"One of his legs, poor little brute. I don't think it is broken; but he
+is awfully frightened. These confounded gins ought not to be set in the
+open."</p>
+
+<p>"No; it is very wrong. I'm afraid it is some of the village boys."</p>
+
+<p>Then, seeing the poor little leg was bleeding, she took out her
+handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>"Do let me bind him up. I ought to be good at bandages, as I've passed
+all the exams. in ambulance classes that I can."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be much obliged. Men are always clumsier than women."</p>
+
+<p>Together they bent over the small dog, who had been snapping at
+everybody and everything in his pain, but, once released, was now lying
+exhausted and panting on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Joan did not take long to bandage the wounded leg, and then advised his
+master to bathe it well on reaching home. He thanked her courteously,
+evidently did not want to accompany her to the village, for he turned
+off at right angles, the dog in his arms; and Joan knew perfectly well
+that there was no house in the direction which he took. She smiled to
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't wonder if that was Major Armitage. I wish I could have
+seen his face."</p>
+
+<p>When she reached home, she found Derrick making himself very agreeable
+to Mrs. Adair and Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, here you are!" he said, jumping up and bringing a low chair to the
+fire. "Sit down and give an account of yourself. Your mother and I have
+been hard on at politics. We don't agree, of course; but we've agreed
+to differ. I wish I knew as much about our Constitution and its laws as
+Mrs. Adair does."</p>
+
+<p>Joan sat down and told them about the stranger and his dog.</p>
+
+<p>"That's Armitage, right enough," said Derrick. "Old Jossy asked him to
+shoot. He came out one day; not a bad shot, but a regular dumb dog. We
+each had a try at him. He is too cussedly indifferent to us to open his
+lips, and declines all invitations to meals. What is he making himself
+into a hermit for, I'd like to know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Artistic temperament," said Cecil. "You must make allowances. Mother,
+can't we call upon him? I want to see his house. I'm quite curious to
+see it."</p>
+
+<p>"Your father will call," Mrs. Adair said.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll bet you a fiver you won't get inside his door," Derrick said,
+turning to Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"Done!" said Cecil. "And I'll do it within this next week!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you will do anything that a lady ought not to do," Mrs.
+Adair said very quietly; and then she took up a book, and the young
+people chatted on.</p>
+
+<p>Joan began relating her visit to an old woman who had sent a message to
+her that she wished to see her "very special."</p>
+
+<p>"''Tis me dyin' wishes, me dear,' she said to me when I got there, 'an'
+if your mem'ry b'ain't bettern mine, you'd best write of it down.' So,
+of course, I got pen and ink and prepared to do it in style.</p>
+
+<p>"''Tis short, me dear. Fust and last, me savin's, in me best chiny
+teapot, must be spent on me grave, so's to spite Tom's nephews, which
+be chucklin' over me departure. An' me monyment must be a tasty bit o'
+stone what will attrac' the toury folk. 'Twill be comfortin' to think
+on 'em hangin' over me wi' admirin' eyes; not to mention bein' the envy
+o' that stuck-up Lizzie White, who did have a wooden cross with two
+doves, and went an' whitewashed it ev'ry Sat'dy; an' all for a drinkin'
+rascal who oughter be lyin' lowest of the low!' I tried to get her into
+a better state of mind before I left."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't doubt that," said Derrick, joining in Cecil's clear laugh;
+"but I reckon you failed."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid I did."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's laughing face grew grave.</p>
+
+<p>"What must it feel like to lie on a bed waiting for death?"</p>
+
+<p>"For mercy's sake, Joan, don't be so gruesome," said Cecil; "and don't
+talk any more about your old women; we get so sick of them."</p>
+
+<p>"You're both to come to dinner on Thursday," announced Derrick, looking
+at Joan very straightly. "Old Jossy has too many men, and I've come to
+get another lady."</p>
+
+<p>"Lady Gascoigne has written to me," said Cecil. "I wrote a refusal
+first, and then I tore it up. I want to see this Wilmot Gascoigne. Are
+he and Banty going to make a match of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Surely never!" ejaculated Derrick. "Why, Banty wouldn't touch him with
+a pair of tongs; and he doesn't know she's in the universe. He's in the
+clouds all his days. He reeks of fusty musty books and parchment, and
+is a walking encyclopædia of the Gascoigne ancestors. Their present
+descendants he regards as clods of earth. The only word he's spoken to
+me was when he was watching us depart after the hunt breakfast last
+week. He had been listening to Banty's conversation with one of her
+hunting pals. I can't say she shone on that occasion; she never does in
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"'Great Scott!' he ejaculated. 'And is that a specimen of a civilised
+and educated woman? She's a brainless savage, and is living seventeen
+or eighteen centuries too late!'"</p>
+
+<p>"What a nasty little man!" said Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"His inches are not few, let me tell you. He tops me by a good many."</p>
+
+<p>"He doesn't sound pleasant," said Joan. "Banty is his own cousin, and
+her parents are giving him a home."</p>
+
+<p>"He thinks no small beer of himself, I can tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"I will reduce him, if I get a chance," said Cecil, nodding her head
+determinedly.</p>
+
+<p>The talk went on till Derrick took his departure. Joan went off to
+her father's study to discuss parish matters, and Cecil turned to her
+mother a little plaintively.</p>
+
+<p>"Derrick seems to think Joan is overworked and I am a lazy malingerer."</p>
+
+<p>"Is Derrick's opinion of any value to you?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair shut up her book and looked down upon her daughter with
+smiling tolerance.</p>
+
+<p>"I value everybody's liking," said Cecil thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you are rather lazy," her mother said. "I wish you would
+interest yourself more in the topics of the day. There is so much
+to read and learn of what is taking place. We are all a part of our
+Empire's history, and ought to have knowledge of the different currents
+that form and make it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mother, don't be prosy," said Cecil, a little impatiently. "I
+dare say Banty and I are in the same category, only sport is her life,
+and pleasure—society—is mine. I know I shall get hipped before long. I
+can't think why father and Joan are so enchanted to live here. It is an
+awful little hole. I can't breathe, and the grey cold is appalling!"</p>
+
+<p>"Are you not feeling well?"</p>
+
+<p>"I never feel fit in England. I hate the winters, and this poky little
+village is worse than living in a town. Of course, the house is better.
+It seems to me that even Joan is getting cramped in her ideas. She can
+talk of nothing but the village."</p>
+
+<p>"It is a small life—a country parson's," her mother admitted; "but you
+should occupy yourself with books."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil gave a little impatient sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"Joan is the good daughter and I'm the wicked one," she said; "and
+father's happiness and content in his small sphere makes me feel
+impatient with him."</p>
+
+<p>Her mother made no reply. Cecil often voiced her own discontent.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_5">CHAPTER V</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>RENUNCIATION</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>THE dinner at the Hall went off very well. Cecil was quite happy,
+seated between Derrick and a young soldier, Captain Harry Clavering,
+who took her in. Joan's lot was Wilmot Gascoigne. He was a tall,
+intellectual-looking man, with dreamy eyes and a slight sarcastic
+curl to his lips. But when he talked and smiled he was an attractive
+personality. He certainly did not appear to despise women's society,
+for he turned to Joan at once.</p>
+
+<p>"You are our organist, are you not? I have never had the chance before
+of coming to near quarters with you, but I study your profile in
+church."</p>
+
+<p>"How dreadful!" laughed Joan. "I hope you are not a physiognomist?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said audaciously; "but you are good to look at, and too
+feminine in appearance to be a college student. I hear you were at
+Girton?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I wonder why men always imagine that the cultivation of the
+intellect alters the sex of a woman?"</p>
+
+<p>"Please don't let us discuss any sex questions. They are so stale
+nowadays."</p>
+
+<p>Joan would not be snubbed; but he suddenly plunged into the subject
+of architecture as seen in the university colleges, and Joan, who was
+devoted to that subject, forgot everything else. From the delicate fan
+tracery in King's Chapel, Cambridge, they wandered off to continental
+cathedrals, and Joan held her breath as she listened, entranced by his
+clever and rapid talk. Then he came back to literature, and here Joan
+could hold her ground. She and he were so absorbed in discussing Horace
+Walpole's letters, as compared with Pope's, that their dinner was
+forgotten. Joan could not say afterwards which courses she had taken
+and which she had left. She only felt profound regret when the ladies
+left the table. In the drawing-room Banty stalked up to her.</p>
+
+<p>"What on earth was Motty saying to you? He hasn't been so lively since
+he's been with us."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I think he is so interesting," said Joan. "I envy you having
+him in the house. He must be a mine of knowledge. I should be always
+digging some of it out of him."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, he doesn't know a hen from a pheasant!" gasped Banty. "And would
+as soon ride a cart horse as a hunter. He's simply impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>When the gentlemen came in, Joan was taken possession of by Derrick.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said; "don't you cast sheep's eyes at old Motty. I've
+introduced him to your mother, and they'll go ahead like a house
+afire. I was ashamed to look at you at dinner. You were hanging on his
+words like a fish on a hook. Just hang on mine like it, will you? It's
+extraordinary what a gift of the gab will do."</p>
+
+<p>"You are so very mediocre," said Joan, smiling, and showing her dimple.
+"I never feel with you that I can improve my opportunity. I learn
+nothing by being in your society."</p>
+
+<p>"That is because you're so book-proud. Don't tell me you learnt
+anything from Motty. He loves to pose as a literary swell; but I know
+he reads up for conversation like mad. Because he impresses a certain
+small, stodgy set in town, and fails to impress us, he thinks he
+isn't appreciated down here; and he'd discourse with pleasure to an
+open-mouthed goose if he thought that goose admired him."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you insinuate—"</p>
+
+<p>"I never insinuate. I hated to see his self-satisfied smirk and your
+animated and fervent homage to his intellect."</p>
+
+<p>"How I wish you would grow up," said Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"I've heard that remark before. Aren't we all a scratch lot to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>He nodded towards a little circle round the fire, which contained Banty
+and her father.</p>
+
+<p>"That's our hunting set," he said. "Cecil is trying to do the smart
+town set. She has two of the most go-ahead chaps talking to her now.
+Lady Gascoigne and those three dowagers are gossiping over that poor
+chap who is shutting himself away from his kind. 'So wrong of him,' I
+heard one of them say. She and her daughters run to earth every fresh
+bachelor. Your mother and Motty are the literary clique."</p>
+
+<p>"And what are we?" asked Joan. "I don't think our conversation is very
+uplifting at present."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't interrupt me. Your father and the Miss Grays and those two
+parsons represent the clerical section; and you and I, Joan, we are
+just chums."</p>
+
+<p>His glance down at her had something more than affection in it.</p>
+
+<p>Joan would not notice it, and she moved over to Lady Gascoigne,
+deliberately avoiding Derrick for the rest of the evening.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair returned home with a great liking for Wilmot Gascoigne.</p>
+
+<p>"The first intelligent man I have met for a long time," she said. "I
+suppose it sounds conceited of me to say so, but these country squires
+are, as a rule, very slow-witted, and the clergy have minds as narrow
+as their stipends."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Cecilia," said her husband good-temperedly, "you are very
+severe on the poor clergy, but I am glad you enjoyed yourself. I
+thought you would. These social gatherings are very pleasant."</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't get any innings with Motty, as they call him," said Cecil.
+"But I suppose he will find his way round here, if you like him,
+Mother."</p>
+
+<p>Joan said nothing. She felt that she would see little more of Wilmot
+whilst her mother was interested in him. Mrs. Adair was a very
+fascinating woman, and she knew it.</p>
+
+<p>Joan received a letter the next morning which sent her about her
+household duties with an absent mind and clouded brow. It was to remind
+her that there were other applicants waiting for the post which had
+been offered her, and that she must delay no longer in sending her
+reply.</p>
+
+<p>At luncheon the rector said in his genial way:</p>
+
+<p>"Cecilia, my dear, I want to have a small parish gathering soon—a
+kind of house warming. I want my parishioners to know you; there are
+farmers' wives scattered over the heath, and many who used to know us
+in the old days. It would be nice to gather them together and make them
+feel that we are their friends. Joan suggests Christmas, but that is a
+long way off. What do you think about it? And do you think you could
+manage to say a few words to them? You are so clever at expressing
+yourself that I am sure you would not find it difficult. It would
+please me very much if you would."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair slowly shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"No, John, I have never interfered with your province, and I have some
+visits I must make to some of my own people. My brother in Edinburgh
+has asked me to take Cecil there for a few weeks. It is a long time
+since I have seen him, so I should like to go."</p>
+
+<p>"It is an expensive journey," said Mr. Adair in disconsolate tones;
+"but we must postpone our gathering till you come back."</p>
+
+<p>"Pray don't think of such a thing. Joan and you are quite equal to
+entertaining them. You know how I loathe parish functions of any sort!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a little silence. The rector was bitterly disappointed that
+his wife was thinking of leaving him again so soon. In a few moments he
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"I hoped, my dear, after your long sojourn abroad you were going to
+settle down quietly here for the winter."</p>
+
+<p>"I am never going to give up seeing my own people."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair's tone was proud and cold.</p>
+
+<p>The rector heaved a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, a few weeks will soon pass; and we shall have you back
+again."</p>
+
+<p>Then Joan spoke, though she knew it was an unpropitious moment.</p>
+
+<p>"I am wondering if I must decline this post of teaching that has been
+offered me. I told you about it, Mother. It is a chance that may never
+come to me again."</p>
+
+<p>"Your father and you must settle that together," said Mrs. Adair; "if
+he can spare you, I have no objection to offer."</p>
+
+<p>"He must have one of us here," said Joan slowly.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil looked up laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Joan, there is tragedy in your tone. Be thankful that your
+duties keep you here, instead of going out to earn your bread. You know
+quite well that you are the only one of us that is cut out for parish
+work. I should make a pretty hash of it if tried to step into your
+shoes!"</p>
+
+<p>"Such a possibility is not to be considered," her mother said quickly
+and a little sharply. "You have not the health to do it."</p>
+
+<p>Joan pushed back her chair and left the room abruptly. Her soul was
+turbulent and rebellious. She went up to her little whitewashed room,
+and sinking on her knees laid her hot head on the broad window ledge.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, God! It is hard. Am I cut out for parish work? Has not my training
+been for a wider sphere? Why should my talents be buried? An open door
+before me, with a vista of influence and power, and—and success. Yes,
+I know I could fill it. I know it is in me to mould, and organise, and
+rule, and yet I must shut this door and turn my back on it. And Cecil
+is doing nothing, absolutely nothing with her life. It would give her
+a new lease of life if she left her health alone and thought of others
+more. Oh, it is hard! It is unfair! I feel inclined to break away from
+it all!"</p>
+
+<p>Hot tears rose to her eyes. She clenched her hands convulsively. Though
+she had known instinctively she could not leave home, she had hoped
+against hope that her circumstances might change. She could not bring
+herself to write the necessary refusal, and knelt there battling with
+her lifelong desires, and the duty that was crushing them into dust.</p>
+
+<p>But in about half an hour's time her brow smoothed, and the light
+returned to her eyes. If joy was at present in abeyance, resignation
+and content had become the victor.</p>
+
+<p>"I will be strong in patience, that is as far as I can see at present."
+Then a twinkle shot into her eye. "Perhaps if I can't teach and rule on
+this earth, I may do it in the Millennium!"</p>
+
+<p>She got out her writing-case and wrote her letter in a firm hand. After
+she had sealed it, she sat looking out of her window.</p>
+
+<p>"A great renunciation," she said to herself; "and yet nobody will
+believe it. Cecil laughs at the notion. But I have not done it very
+willingly. Now I must look forward, and never back at it. That phase in
+my life is over. Thank God, I can still impart knowledge, though of a
+different kind, to my small Sunday scholars. And I dare say from above
+it looks the highest class after all. What a lovely afternoon! I will
+go and get the apples in."</p>
+
+<p>She ran lightly downstairs, and sang her way down the garden into
+the orchard. Cecil heard her. She was in an easy chair before the
+drawing-room fire, a novel in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"What a happy creature Joan is," she said to her mother, who as usual
+was at her writing-desk. "She is like father, easily satisfied in her
+small surroundings."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair looked thoughtfully out into the garden. "I never have
+understood Joan," she said, more to herself than to Cecil, "but the
+present weighs more than the future in her calculations. Her apples at
+this moment are the most important things in the world."</p>
+
+<p>When Joan and the odd man had finished their task, she came into the
+house to find that Cecil had gone out, and her mother was lying down in
+her room. The drawing-room fire was out; she ran into the kitchen and
+sent Jenny in to relight it. Then Sophia, who was plucking a chicken,
+detained her.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit you down, Miss Joan, I want a word with ye. There's no getting a
+bit of talk with you these days."</p>
+
+<p>Joan dropped into a rocking chair by the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"I would like to sit here for an hour, Sophia. You have the knack of
+making the kitchen the pleasantest place in the world. When I marry—if
+ever I do—I shall live in my kitchen."</p>
+
+<p>"Stuff! We'll wish you a grand match, Miss Joan; may you be one of they
+who gives orders only and has the staff to carry 'em out. Do ye know
+where Miss Cecil be off to?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; where?"</p>
+
+<p>"She have taken a note from me to Maria. Aye, she would have it, she
+be just wild to get into that house, so she tells me, and, Miss Joan,
+'tis no house for a lady, and what is more, no lady is to cross the
+threshold."</p>
+
+<p>"You sound very mysterious. What has Maria been telling you?"</p>
+
+<p>"A good deal not to be repeated. But I'll tell you this, Miss Joan,
+Major Armitage be wrong in his head. There be no doubt of that."</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you think so?"</p>
+
+<p>"You'll keep a still tongue over it? I wouldn't let the mistress hear
+it nor yet Miss Cecil. He be quite unkenny as the Scotch say. You must
+know Maria do a lot of waitin' on him at times. She says at a certain
+hour every afternoon in the gloaming—from six to seven—he sits in his
+big room, the music-room he calls it, because of the big pianny, but
+Maria calls it the library, for the walls be pretty well covered with
+books. He takes a big chair by the fire, and he pulls another, a soft
+ladyish cushioned one, which no one never sits on, opposite him, then
+he smokes his pipe and he talks in a low tone which makes your blood
+curdle, not all at once on end, Maria says, but just a word here an'
+there, and a soft tender like whisper at times."</p>
+
+<p>Joan laughed at Sophia's awed face.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, lots of lonely people talk to themselves; I do very often when
+I'm out walking."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Joan, 'tis this way, and Maria says it as knows, he be talkin' to
+someone not to be seen, 'a-sittin' in that chair!'"</p>
+
+<p>"Good gracious! What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I be charitable and say the poor man be not right in his
+head. There be people who might say he were temperin' and playin'
+with spirits. Maria come in one evenin', and he never heard her, and
+he leant across to the chair, and he says quite distinct, 'Will you
+listen, sweet, and tell me how you like it?' And then he walks to the
+pianny and he plays, Maria said, like an angel. And once he looks back
+over his shoulder at the chair and smiles, such a smile as a man gives
+the one he dotes on."</p>
+
+<p>Joan began to look interested.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on, Sophia, tell me more. But I don't think Maria ought to spy on
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"'Twas by accident, but he have given orders that nobody disturbs him
+from six to seven every night. And there be other things, Miss Joan.
+He have told Maria that any gentlemen who call on him must be shown
+into the smokin'-room, but no lady on any pretence whatever is to put
+her foot over the threshold of the big front door. And he goes up to
+the little boudoir which he keeps the key of himself, and he puts
+fresh flowers every two or three days in it. But Maria dursn't ask a
+question. Maybe the lady be dead, and he be keepin' communion with
+her spirit, but 'tis a heathenish thing, and I think his poor mind be
+disturbed."</p>
+
+<p>Joan did not answer.</p>
+
+<p>"So, Miss Joan," pursued Sophia, "I want you to keep Miss Cecil out of
+his way, and you know what she always was like when a body wanted her
+to do or not to do, so determined to do contrariwise. The less a young
+lady has to do with such a man the better. Not but what Maria says
+he be kind and considerate and sensible in all other ways. And he be
+lookin' into his estate in the right sort of way, and talkin' friendly
+with the tenants. But he must have a kink in his brain, or be in league
+with spirits."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you hadn't told me, Sophia. Maria ought not to have spied upon
+him. His private life has nothing to do with us. You won't let this
+gossip get about the village?"</p>
+
+<p>"Now what do you take me for? Don't I know that you're a safe person
+to tell things to? But Miss Cecil may get in at the back door—she
+certainly won't get in at the front."</p>
+
+<p>Joan got up from the chair on which she had been sitting.</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say Major Armitage is a child at heart, and was making believe
+as I used to do! I won't believe anything 'unkenny' about him, Sophia."</p>
+
+<p>She met Cecil a little later coming in from the garden.</p>
+
+<p>"I've bearded the hermit in his den!" she cried out gaily. "I told
+Derrick I would. I've been chatting in his kitchen, to Maria, who seems
+gloomy and mysterious. The Major was out, but I met him walking up the
+drive as I was coming away.</p>
+
+<p>"'I haven't been to call upon you,' I said to him, 'but to take a
+message to your cook. Don't you remember me?'</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy, he had the impertinence to say that he did not! I reminded him
+of the hotel abroad. He looked bored, lifted his hat and walked on. I
+have never been so snubbed in my life."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you hadn't gone," said Joan. "It puts you in a false position."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't be so conventional! He wants to be taken out of himself."</p>
+
+<p>Then she sank down on a chair in the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm tired to death. I hate the country, Joan! I haven't met a single
+soul on the way there or back."</p>
+
+<p>Joan stood still and looked at her with a little impatience and some
+tenderness in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder," she said slowly, "what work you were meant to do when you
+were sent into the world?"</p>
+
+<p>Cecil gazed at her in silence for a moment, then said:</p>
+
+<p>"You do say such prosy things. Work! Everybody is not made for work. I
+am sure I wasn't. This life in a parsonage is nothing but work! You are
+just a slave of the village, Joan."</p>
+
+<p>"It's happy slavery, then," said Joan, laughing, "for I'm getting to
+love them all, and, when you love, slavery isn't in it."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil would vouchsafe no reply. She dragged herself up from her chair
+and went into the drawing-room to her mother.</p>
+
+<p>Joan turned into her father's study. There was a good deal of parish
+work to be discussed between them. She found him now with his head in
+his hands, and his elbows on his writing-table, doing nothing. It was
+such an unusual position for him that she wondered.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you asleep, Dad, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair turned heavy eyes and anxious brow at the sound of her voice;
+then his face cleared.</p>
+
+<p>"Not asleep. I wish I were," he said, trying to speak lightly. "I
+am only thinking about ways and means, Joan. My pass book is not a
+pleasant sight."</p>
+
+<p>Joan knelt down by his side and her tone was almost motherly.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't worry. We shall be better off soon. You have had such heavy
+expenses coming here. We shall not have those again."</p>
+
+<p>He did not answer; then a heavy sigh escaped him. "Your mother means to
+go abroad again in January. She told me so this morning."</p>
+
+<p>This was the cause of his depression. Joan could hardly trust herself
+to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps she will change her mind before the time comes. We won't live
+in the future, Dad, dear. Leave January to take care of itself."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you couldn't have a talk with her, Joan? Women understand
+each other. I always seem to bungle. I really don't know how we can
+afford it. I simply shall not have the money to send her this year.
+I withdrew almost the last of my private capital last year. I have
+been doing it for years, but that has come to an end, and if anything
+happened to me, I should leave you utterly unprovided for. Your
+mother's money could not support you. It is not nearly enough for
+herself and for Cecil."</p>
+
+<p>"But I think and hope I could support myself," said Joan gently. "Don't
+bother over that. We will hope that you will be spared to us for many a
+long day yet."</p>
+
+<p>Then she added in a different tone:</p>
+
+<p>"I will try to have a talk with Mother again about it." She pressed
+a light kiss on his forehead, then persisted in talking to him about
+some of his parishioners, and for the time Mr. Adair laid his private
+trouble aside. Yet when she was about to leave him, he called her back.</p>
+
+<p>"I hoped, Joan, my dear, I thought we had such a pretty, comfortable
+home now—I am sure you have taken such pains in making it fresh and
+home-like, I did think it would have been an inducement to your mother
+to settle down here. And there are such nice friendly people round. I
+have been wondering if we could not find some people who might take
+Cecil abroad at a slight expense—I have heard of it being done—if she
+would make herself useful to them, I mean, and then your mother would
+not be obliged to go. She could stay at home with us."</p>
+
+<p>Joan almost smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Dad, dear; Mother will never let Cecil leave her wing. I will talk
+over things with her. But Mother is not dependent on house comfort. She
+has so many other things in her life."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought a nice, pretty home would satisfy any woman," said Mr.
+Adair, sighing; "I told your mother so."</p>
+
+<p>Joan tried to imagine her mother's feelings at hearing that sentiment.
+But she had an overwhelming pity for her simple, kindly old father, and
+when she left him, it was with tears rising in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_6">CHAPTER VI</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>A MOTHER'S CONFIDENCES</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>IT was not until the following day that Joan had an opportunity to talk
+with her mother, and then, as she wanted some things which the village
+could not produce, Joan drove her over to shop in the small town of
+Coppleton.</p>
+
+<p>The little jingle did credit to Joan's painting, and the old pony
+trotted briskly along. It was a lovely still October afternoon. The
+woods were clothed in shimmering gold and brown, the sky was a pure
+pale blue, and the dark slender pines stood out in silhouettes against
+the horizon. A happy smile played about Joan's lips; she raised her
+head, and exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it delicious air, Mother? It is so exhilarating."</p>
+
+<p>"I find it cold," Mrs. Adair said, drawing her fur cloak tightly round
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Joan tucked the rug more completely over her knees.</p>
+
+<p>And then she said a little abruptly: "I have sent in my refusal to that
+offer made me, Mother."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean the post of teacher somewhere?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"I think you are wise. I do not see how your father could get on
+without you here."</p>
+
+<p>"No; and he tells me you are wanting to go abroad again this winter?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is the beginning of the year and the early spring, that tries Cecil
+so," said Mrs. Adair slowly. "She is already getting back her cough
+again here, which I hoped she had lost altogether."</p>
+
+<p>"Father and I are woefully disappointed," said Joan impulsively. "He
+is not so young as he was; he worships the ground you tread upon, and
+feels your absence keenly. His heart has been set upon keeping you at
+home this winter. I suppose it is not possible for Cecil to go abroad
+without you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hardly," said Mrs. Adair with a little laugh, "and, my dear Joan,
+your father will not miss us when we are gone. I cannot, as you know,
+throw myself into the small life of a small village. There is always an
+undercurrent of friction and dissatisfaction when we are home. It is my
+fault. You are a woman now and I suppose you have your own thoughts and
+ideals. They must take you farther than the horizon of Old Bellerton.
+Your father considers that the four walls of a house is the boundary of
+a woman's life work and ambition. But then he has a wrong conception
+of the size of a woman's intellect. And I suppose he, and the class of
+thinkers like him, are mainly responsible for the rebellious outbursts
+of many girls who are now swelling the body of militant suffragettes."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Joan quietly; "but you have seen a lot of life, Mother, and
+must feel, as even I do, that old-fashioned notions about women are not
+always cruel or criminal."</p>
+
+<p>"Your father is one of the kindest and most tender-hearted men that I
+have ever known," said Mrs. Adair quickly. Then she laughed. "We are
+a very modern mother and daughter to be discussing the head of the
+house in this fashion. But in choosing a husband, Joan, goodness and
+kindness of heart are not everything. I suppose a broad outlook on life
+and intellectual aspirations are not conducive towards content and
+happiness, when one's companion for life is offering one crumbs from
+his table."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image004" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"><a id="Image004">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/image004.jpg" alt="image004"></a></figure>
+<p class="t4">
+<b>JOAN WENT DOWN ON HER KNEES BEFORE HER MOTHER</b><br>
+<b>IMPULSIVELY, AND TOOK HER HANDS IN HERS.</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mother!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan's exclamation was involuntary.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair pulled herself up.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no business to speak so. I don't know why I chafe under the
+masculine rule. Your father would cut off his right hand for me, but
+to him the limits of a woman's wants and desires are astoundingly
+infinitesimal, and his estimate of her capacity in life is what any
+upper servant would fulfil."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," murmured Joan; "but he never interferes or tries to dictate to
+one."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, all this is beside the mark. Cecil's health is the main
+question. I will not see her droop and die in uncongenial soil if I
+can prevent it. You are strong, Joan, and cannot understand how the
+aggressive biting cold of this village can shrivel up the low vitality
+of a delicate organisation. Your father accepted this living without
+any reference to me. He wrote of it as a godsend; and yet he must have
+known that the seeds of disease were sown in both our boys in this
+neighbourhood."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked at her mother with startled eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not know," she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>"You were born," Mrs. Adair continued, "when I was a happy girl living
+in close touch with my old friends and old life. Poverty and privation
+were unknown to me, for my father's cheque-book was continually
+supplying extra comforts for us. When we came here, I began to
+experience the humiliation and misery of a narrow income. Both boys
+were born when I was least able to mother and nurse them. They and
+Cecil never had a chance. You take after your father's family, they
+took after mine, and the cold, biting winters here aggravated their
+delicacy. I could not rear them in comfort, as they should have been
+reared, and my handsome boys were taken from me before they had seen
+anything of life."</p>
+
+<p>She paused. She could not even now mention the loss of her sons with
+composure.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose I was ambitious," she went on. "As you know, I come from
+a race of soldiers who have all earned their country's gratitude for
+their achievements. Do you think it is nothing to me to have no sons to
+follow in their grandfather's footsteps, to leave a name behind them,
+to bequeath in their turn sons to serve our Empire?"</p>
+
+<p>There was such passion in Mrs. Adair's tone that Joan was speechless.
+The mother had never confided in her daughter so fully before. And Joan
+understood for the first time that it was the want of resignation to
+her loss that was the canker eating away at her heart, and marring much
+in her strong and purposeful character. After a few minutes' silence,
+Joan said softly:</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you may yet have grandsons to serve their country. Cecil is
+most attractive. She will marry."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair heaved a deep sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"She has nothing of a constitution. I feel she may slip away from me as
+the boys did."</p>
+
+<p>This little talk with her mother made Joan sympathise with her more
+than she had ever done before. She had always known that she occupied
+a very small place in her mother's affections. Her very health and
+strength were almost an offence.</p>
+
+<p>"Like Father's family," said Joan to herself later that day. "Well, I
+will not wish myself otherwise. I would not have a Lovell's nervous,
+high-strung organisation, in spite of their aristocratic refinement and
+dainty graces, because someone must be strong and uniformly cheerful
+in the house; someone must shoulder the daily vexations and worries,
+and my shoulders are strong enough and broad enough to bear them. Poor
+Mother! She lives in haunting dread that death may snatch away her
+last treasure from her. And poor Father! To be so delighted with this
+living, and to imagine that Mother has no remembrances of the past! How
+I wish I had known more about those early struggling days here. I think
+I should have persuaded him to stay where he was. There is no possible
+hope now of her ever becoming reconciled to living here."</p>
+
+<p>She made these reflections in her own room after returning from the
+drive. And when tea was over she took her organ key and slipped over
+to the church to have a practice by herself. She was just summoning a
+small boy from a cottage near to come and blow for her, when she heard
+strains of music coming from the church. She abandoned her intention
+and crept softly up into the old porch. There was no doubt that a
+master hand was upon the keys of her beloved organ. She held her
+breath, entranced, and then very noiselessly slipped inside and sat
+down upon a seat behind a big pillar, which effectually concealed her
+from view. Only two candles were lighted; Major Armitage was seated
+on her stool and was pouring out his soul in a flood of passionate,
+vibrating melody, though there was a hush and a sense of restrained
+force through every note he touched.</p>
+
+<p>Joan had an intense love for music, and her ears quickly perceived that
+a strain of unfulfilled desire and expectation was in his music, and it
+made her heart ache to hear it. She almost felt that she was intruding
+upon a sacred time, when a soul was baring its griefs and longings, and
+for one moment she felt inclined to leave.</p>
+
+<p>Then the music died away. A short silence fell, and then suddenly, in a
+soft, mellow tenor, he began to sing. The words were familiar, but Joan
+had never heard such an exquisite setting to them. She concluded it was
+an anthem, and yet from the harmony, it seemed more fitted for a solo.</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<br>
+"I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in his word<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;do I hope.<br>
+&nbsp;My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;for the morning; I say more than they that watch<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;for the morning."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>As he played, the darkness of the night seemed to loom around them, and
+then the first faint light of dawn took its place.</p>
+
+<p>The triumphant emphasis of the first words, the assurance that waiting
+was the soul's steadfast and hopeful attitude, imprinted itself upon
+Joan's soul. When the Major came to a pause, she stole out of the
+church, and her eyes were moist with emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"No wonder Maria said he played like an angel! How I long to have his
+gift! I wish I knew him!"</p>
+
+<p>Then she shook her head with a little smile.</p>
+
+<p>"There are other people in the world who are practising patience like
+myself."</p>
+
+<p>When she joined the others, she found that her father was giving them
+an account of his visit to the Major.</p>
+
+<p>"A very pleasant and well-informed man. He has been through deep
+waters. He just touched upon his profession. I should like you to have
+heard the way he spoke of it, Cecilia, and the grief it was to him when
+he left it. But he told me his father had a place in Yorkshire with a
+private chapel attached—it has gone to his eldest brother now—and from
+quite a youngster he spent all his spare time at the organ. Music is
+his hobby. He sometimes plays the organ at Queen's Hall, in town, for
+the weekly popular concerts. And I believe he composes and publishes.
+He told me if his blindness had continued, he would have become an
+organist somewhere. This place belonged to his mother, and she left it
+to him. He thought he ought to come down and live here, he said; but I
+think his heart is in town. I begged him to dine with us, but he asked
+me to excuse him. He walked back with me, and then went into the church
+to try the organ."</p>
+
+<p>"I have just heard him playing there," said Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a treat to listen to him," said Cecil. "But it is very surly of
+him to shut himself away from society."</p>
+
+<p>"He may have reasons for it," said Joan. In her mind's eye, Sophia's
+graphic picture came before her—the lonely man in the empty room,
+playing to somebody unseen.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>There was a good deal of bustle in the rectory for the next few days.
+Mrs. Adair and Cecil were packing and getting ready for their Edinburgh
+visit. Cecil had plenty of mending, which she laughingly turned over to
+Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a born needlewoman; I am not. Oh, how I wish I could afford to
+have a maid of my own!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair did not approve of this visit.</p>
+
+<p>"You say this place is cold for Cecil; why, Edinburgh will be a hundred
+times as cold. It is the wrong time of year to go up to Scotland."</p>
+
+<p>This remark was made to his wife.</p>
+
+<p>She answered him impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>"My brother's house is rather different from ours. It is heated with
+radiators, and has every comfort. Cecil will be in the lap of luxury."</p>
+
+<p>He sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid it will be an expensive visit for so short a time."</p>
+
+<p>His wife did not reply. She had made up her mind to go, and nothing
+would prevent her. She was not entirely heartless or indifferent to
+her husband's struggles to make both ends meet; but she had never
+been able to economise, and money seemed to leak away through her
+finger ends. She had periodical fits of retrenchment, but after making
+herself and everyone around her perfectly miserable by knocking off
+real necessities, she would relapse into her old happy-go-lucky way and
+spend as if she were a wealthy woman.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be thankful to get to a house with the 'Times' in it," she
+said to Joan that evening, as she turned over the local paper rather
+impatiently. "It is no wonder everyone is so sleepy in these parts. You
+have not even a magazine club going."</p>
+
+<p>"We are starting one," said Joan quickly. "I suggested it, and if
+everyone will join, there will be no difficulty. I felt the dearth of
+books when I came here. Mr. Wilmot Gascoigne is taking the matter up,
+and they say what he does at all he does thoroughly."</p>
+
+<p>"It is strange that he has not called," Mrs. Adair said. "He told me he
+quite intended to do so."</p>
+
+<p>The very next day, he was announced about tea-time. When tea was over,
+he sat and talked to Mrs. Adair. Cecil yawned, and finally took up her
+novel, saying audaciously:</p>
+
+<p>"I hate listening to other people's talk. And I cannot join in myself,
+for you are flying from one subject to another, and each one is deeper
+than the last. I'll leave the listening to Joan, who appreciates it."</p>
+
+<p>"But we want Miss Adair to be more than a listener," said Wilmot,
+turning to Joan as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>Joan was too interested to remain silent. Wilmot Gascoigne was a good
+talker, and, what was rarer still, he liked to listen to others. Mrs.
+Adair and he had many things in common; but when they touched on
+politics, Joan became silent.</p>
+
+<p>"I am no politician," she said, when Wilmot asked her opinion upon a
+certain statesman. "Everybody always believes in himself or his party,
+and seldom credits those who disagree with him with either principles
+or common sense. I should like the party spirit ousted from our
+Government."</p>
+
+<p>Wilmot shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"It sounds simple, but it would be inextricably involved. If there
+were no longer two parties, the balance of power would be lost. And
+would measures ever be passed? Imagine the length of discussion when
+every member would have his individual idea, and each and all have a
+different scheme to propose."</p>
+
+<p>"Everything is sacrificed to party now," said Joan; and then she was
+called out of the room by Sophia, who had someone from the village
+waiting to see her.</p>
+
+<p>When she came back, her mother and Wilmot were discussing Venetian
+history. He stayed for a couple of hours, but before going told Joan
+he would like to send her down a couple of new books on Constitutional
+History, and she accepted the offer with much pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"I quite agree with Derrick," said Cecil, when he had gone away; "he is
+as dogmatic and book-musty as all such bookworms are. He is the kind of
+man who thinks any book above criticism, just because it is a book."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Cecil, you are talking nonsense," said her mother. "He is a man
+who has learnt as well as read. You can feel it in every word he says."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>The next day they went. And Joan felt at first a terrible blank in the
+house, though she had infinite more leisure, which she occupied by
+visiting the parishioners.</p>
+
+<p>Derrick met her coming home very tired one afternoon, after a long
+round.</p>
+
+<p>"Take my arm," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked at him with laughing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"The village would see us, and say we were courting," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a capital suggestion," said Derrick eagerly. "Let us begin at
+once."</p>
+
+<p>Joan rebuked this levity.</p>
+
+<p>He heaved a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going back to town to-morrow, and to work. Joan, don't you think,
+as an old pupil of the Dominie's, and an attached and grateful friend,
+I might be asked to spend Christmas at the rectory?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked grave and considered.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think so, Derrick. We expect Mother and Cecil back, and our
+house is small. It sounds inhospitable—"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'll wait till Easter. You and the Dominie will be alone then.
+And, look here, Joan, let me advise you for your good. Don't be getting
+too thick with Motty. He's easily flattered, poor brute, and he really
+isn't the sort of fellow who will do you any good. What do you think
+he told me this morning? He said the annals of his family ought to be
+kept in the Zoo, for, as far as he could see, they had never got beyond
+their animal powers. Fighting, eating, drinking composed their lives,
+and that in no record since the Conquest could he find a Gascoigne who
+was a scholar and had used and cultivated the brains which had been
+given to him.</p>
+
+<p>"'But you're a Gascoigne,' I said.</p>
+
+<p>"You should have seen him rise to the bait. He simply swelled visibly."</p>
+
+<p>"Derrick, I will not listen to you," said Joan, half laughing, half
+vexed. "I thought men's natures were too big to allow of backbiting.
+Why do you dislike Wilmot Gascoigne so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because you like him," said Derrick manfully and promptly. "And I know
+he will be your undoing."</p>
+
+<p>"You are talking nonsense."</p>
+
+<p>"So I am. Now, look here, Joan, I mean to talk good, sound, honest,
+sober sense with you now. My life and yours have always run together.
+But since I have lived in town, we've drifted a wee bit apart, and I
+want to remedy this. Will you let me do it in my own way?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Joan quickly, and edging a little away from him. "I have
+my life here; you have yours in town. If we meet occasionally as old
+friends, it is very pleasant. Don't let anything spoil our friendship.
+And, oh, please, Derrick, be merciful this afternoon, for I am very
+tired."</p>
+
+<p>Derrick took her hand and tucked it in his arm. "It is dark," he said.
+"Confound convention! Well, I will be patient, but you must realise,
+and I don't want you to forget it, that you have a very patient waiting
+friend in town. And his determination and patience are vying with each
+other in strength and—and in endurance. He will wait till he gets what
+he wants, but he will get it in the end."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's hand trembled a little. She tried to withdraw it, but Derrick
+had captured it, and though he felt the quiver of it, he would not let
+it go.</p>
+
+<p>When they were at the rectory gate, he said:</p>
+
+<p>"This is my good-bye. I leave to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>Then his stern gravity melted, and it was in his most coaxing boyish
+tone that he said:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Joan, my heart's dearest, do let me kiss your dimple!"</p>
+
+<p>"You are preposterous, Derrick!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan fled from him. Half-way up the drive, she turned. He was leaning
+his arms on the gate looking after her.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye," she waved. "And work hard for your country, and think of
+your party last."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall come back here for Easter," he said defiantly; "so mind you
+keep a spare room ready for me."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed light-heartedly, and Derrick turned away with her sweet
+laugh ringing in his ears, not altogether dissatisfied with his parting
+talk with her.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_7">CHAPTER VII</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>THE MAJOR'S HOSPITALITY</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>JOAN was making apple jam in the kitchen. Jenny was attending on her,
+for Sophia had gone to the dentist's in Coppleton; she very seldom had
+an afternoon out, and would not have gone now unless Joan had insisted
+and had promised to make the jam instead of her. Poor Sophia had had
+three days and nights of raging toothache, and Joan bundled her up in
+wraps, seated her in the jingle, and the odd man drove her in.</p>
+
+<p>It was a cold grey afternoon in November. The wind soughed in the old
+rectory chimneys, and the sky had that peculiar metallic blue-grey hue
+which betokens the coming of snow. Joan looked out of the cosy kitchen
+through the window.</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather be in than out to-day, Jenny, wouldn't you? I hope
+Sophia won't be caught in a storm."</p>
+
+<p>"The master be out too," said Jenny. "Old Dan'l Tucker be taken very
+bad and sent for him."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked anxious as she turned to her jam and stirred it.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not know he was going there. It is quite three miles off. I
+thought he was only going his round in the village."</p>
+
+<p>Jam making continued, she could not leave it, but when dusk began to
+gather, and neither Sophia nor the rector was back, Joan began to
+worry. Snowflakes appeared, not very large at first, but growing bigger
+and thicker as time went on.</p>
+
+<p>At last sounds of wheels across the yard were heard, and Sophia
+staggered into the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Miss Joan, glad I am to be back. 'Tis blowing a blizzard. I can't
+feel my hands or feet."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen Father? He has actually gone across the heath to the
+Tuckers. I am quite nervous about him."</p>
+
+<p>Sophia looked horrified, then she spoke in a reassuring tone.</p>
+
+<p>"They'll keep him over the night. The Tuckers be superior folk, and
+their farm be as big and comfortable as any gentlefolk's. Don't you
+fret, Miss Joan. They'll keep him there sure enough."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think Father would stay. He would know that I should be
+anxious."</p>
+
+<p>She left the kitchen and went into the dining-room, which gave her a
+glimpse of the road for some distance. Mr. Adair had a slight cold, and
+Joan remembered now that he had complained of oppression on his chest
+that morning.</p>
+
+<p>"I ought to have looked after him. I was too engrossed in my jam, and
+in Sophia's toothache. I ought not to have let him go out at all this
+afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>As she watched at the window, she saw a man in the distance making his
+way down the street. For one instant she thought it was her father, and
+heaved a sigh of relief, then she saw the figure was taller and more
+erect than the old rector was, and she waited to see him approach. He
+came in at the rectory gate and up the drive.</p>
+
+<p>Joan impulsively dashed out into the porch. "Have you come from my
+father? Do you know where he is?"</p>
+
+<p>"Safe in bed at my house, and I hope he will stay there."</p>
+
+<p>It was Major Armitage who spoke, and in her anxiety, Joan drew him into
+the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Has he met with an accident? Is he ill?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Miss Adair, the fact is, I came across him leaning up against
+my fence a couple of hundred yards from the house. He was panting for
+breath, and pretty well exhausted by his tramp across the heath. I took
+him straight in and gave him some brandy. It did him good. I consulted
+my housekeeper, and she thought that bed was the best place for him.
+And then to ease his mind, I came off to tell you where he was. And on
+the way, I met the doctor and sent him to have a look at him, for I
+think he has some kind of bronchial attack."</p>
+
+<p>"Come in where there is a fire," said Joan, opening the door of her
+father's study. "How kind of you to keep him. But I must go to him; I
+understand him. Is he not well enough to come back here to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't advise it. By all means come back with me now. Perhaps we
+shall find the doctor still there."</p>
+
+<p>Without a word more, Joan left the room. She called Sophia to her and
+told her what had happened, whilst she got ready to go out.</p>
+
+<p>"Aye, dear Miss Joan, here's trouble. But Maria will know what to do.
+She be a first-rate nurse, and maybe to-morrow will find him quite
+himself again. 'Tis no use to drag upon our heads the burdens of the
+morrow, so we'll just leave it at that. And if it will ease your mind,
+just tell Maria to make you up a bed in his room and stay the night.
+If you don't come back in the hour, that's what I know you'll do. And
+remember, a good mustard poultice will ease his chest!"</p>
+
+<p>Major Armitage looked about him when he was left alone. He noted the
+comfortable chair drawn up to the fire, the warm slippers on the
+fender, the dainty little tea-table awaiting the rector's return. And
+he muttered to himself:</p>
+
+<p>"A woman's care."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was back almost directly. She said very little, but outside, her
+swift strides had no trouble in keeping pace with the Major's.</p>
+
+<p>"It was you who befriended my small dog," said Major Armitage in a
+friendly tone.</p>
+
+<p>"And now you have befriended my father," replied Joan quickly. "I
+believe I have been most ungrateful, for I have never expressed my
+thanks. I was so anxious at Father's non-appearance that I could think
+of no one else."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't worry over him. A few days' rest and warmth will set him all
+right again; but it is not pleasant weather to be out."</p>
+
+<p>They were met here by a sharp squall of snow and wind. Talking was
+impossible. They could hardly keep their footing, and for the rest of
+the way they reserved their breath for battling with the elements. He
+did not take Joan to the front entrance, but turned in by a side door
+and ushered her into a comfortable smoking-room.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you don't mind the smell of smoke," he said, drawing up a chair
+to the fire for her. "I will send my housekeeper to you, and she will
+take you to your father. May I relieve you of your cloak?"</p>
+
+<p>He helped her out of her snow-covered garment, but as he did so, his
+lips snapped together like steel, and a hard stern look came into his
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Joan, glancing up at a mirror in front of her, caught sight of the
+frowning face behind her. She wondered at it, and then remembered some
+of the talk about him, and spoke in her impulsive fashion.</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid this is all most unpleasant to you, Major Armitage. Don't
+think of entertaining me or coming near me. It is only my father I want
+to see."</p>
+
+<p>He gave a little courteous bow.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope I know my duties as your host. I assure you I am not a
+misanthrope, though I know I do bear a bad character in the village."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's cheeks grew hot. She felt she had blundered, and then she said
+in her natural tone:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear, I always do say the awkward thing if I can manage it."</p>
+
+<p>He gave a short laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"We won't stand upon ceremony with each other. Do sit down and warm
+yourself."</p>
+
+<p>He left the room, and the next moment Maria appeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, dear Miss Adair. Your pore dear father, there! When I saw him
+staggerin' in with the master, I thought he was struck for death! I
+assure you his face were a dark purple, and he were gaspin' like a
+dyin' fish! But we got him some spirit and put him to bed, and he have
+had hot bottles to his feet, and he be now lyin' in a heavy doze, and
+his breathin' raucous—well, I must say it is that, but not worse than
+to be expected."</p>
+
+<p>"Take me to him," said Joan as soon as she could get in a word. "Has
+the doctor gone?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, has ordered a steam kettle, says it's a sharp attack of
+bronchitis, and he mustn't be moved. Come you this way."</p>
+
+<p>She went upstairs, and Joan followed her, hardly noticing where she
+was going, until she found herself in a big comfortable-looking room
+with a blazing fire. Her father lying back upon the pillows in an
+old-fashioned tester bed recognised her, and smiled but could not speak.</p>
+
+<p>Joan went up, and stooping down spoke in her cheeriest tone:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Dad, dear, this is unlucky, isn't it? I'm so thankful Major
+Armitage took you in. Now don't try to speak. You'll be better
+to-morrow, and you must just stop here till you're fit to be moved. I
+shall look after you to-night. Try to go to sleep."</p>
+
+<p>Relief and comfort was expressed at once in Mr. Adair's troubled face.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, you know, you'll do everything that is right," he murmured, and
+then he closed his eyes.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image005" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"><a id="Image005">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/image005.jpg" alt="image005"></a></figure>
+<p class="t4">
+<b>JOAN AND BANTY CHATTED TOGETHER IN LIGHT-HEARTED FASHION</b><br>
+<b>WHEN THEY WERE SITTING DOWN WATCHING FOR THE KETTLE TO BOIL.</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Maria appeared, but Joan drew her out of the room, where they arranged
+everything for the invalid's comfort. Joan said she would sit up in the
+big easy chair by the fire all night.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall have a nap when I can, but I will keep the fire in and the
+kettle going, and give him what he needs."</p>
+
+<p>She heard all the directions that the doctor had given and promised
+to carry them out. The master of the house was of no account in her
+eyes, nor did she think of him again until she was sitting up awake in
+the silent hours of the night. Then she began to wonder about the life
+that he led in this lonely house, and who was the lady of his choice,
+whether she were but a sweet memory or a living reality.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair slept a good deal, and by the time the dawn broke his
+breathing was considerably easier. When Maria appeared, Joan smiled up
+at her.</p>
+
+<p>"We have had a good night, and he is not worse, but better I should
+say."</p>
+
+<p>Maria brought her a cup of tea, then persuaded her to go into an
+adjoining bedroom and have a bath, so as to refresh herself.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later she was downstairs in the hall just in the act of going
+out of the door, when Major Armitage appeared from the dining-room and
+stopped her.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not going off without any breakfast? I could not allow you to
+do that. I am glad to hear good accounts of your father."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'm so thankful. I must get home to ease our old servant's mind.
+I thought I might run up again to see the doctor when he comes, and to
+ask him how Father can be moved."</p>
+
+<p>"I have already sent a message down to the rectory. I am not going to
+let you go till you have had something to eat. Come in here."</p>
+
+<p>Joan could not resist his pleasant peremptoriness. She followed him
+into the dining-room. It was a large comfortable room, with a broad bay
+window overlooking the garden. The expanse of dazzling snow outside
+gave a reflected light into the room. Joan was conscious as she looked
+at the smart soldier-like neatness of the Major, that she herself was
+tired and unrefreshed by the night's watch. But he was thinking as he
+took her in with one swift glance that he had seldom seen a woman with
+a sweeter, fresher countenance.</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast was laid on a small round table near the fire. The long
+dining-table in the middle of the room was evidently not used.</p>
+
+<p>Major Armitage presided over the coffee and tea himself. He waited on
+Joan with cheerful alacrity. There was nothing in his manner to prove
+that he disliked women guests. Their talk was, of course, about the
+invalid.</p>
+
+<p>"I dread my father getting bronchitis at the beginning of the winter.
+He has had it before, but I am so immensely thankful and grateful to
+you for finding him. How did you manage it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I heard one of my dogs barking outside. I'm afraid he took the rector
+for an intruder. It is my dog you have to thank for telling me of your
+father's whereabouts."</p>
+
+<p>"But you offered him shelter and hospitality."</p>
+
+<p>"Who would not? If I had been in a similar case, would you not have
+taken me in and nursed me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope I should," said Joan with a smile; "which reminds me of an old
+man in the village—do you know him? A superannuated postman, Dicky
+Grubb. He called me in to take shelter from the rain, and when I
+thanked him, he said:</p>
+
+<p>"'Why, that be all right. I do reckon I'd have asked the evil one
+hisself in if I'd seen 'im. I do be just desperate for a talk wi'
+somebody.'"</p>
+
+<p>"These country folk have a great belief in the personality of the evil
+one," said Major Armitage with an amused smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I must rank myself amongst them," said Joan, a soft grave light coming
+into her eyes at once. "If we believe our Bibles, we must, but the
+comfort is to feel that the Power above him is greater."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you believe in a gracious providence overlooking our lives and
+ordering all things for our eternal good?" questioned the Major
+abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do," said Joan simply. "I believe it with all my heart. I
+always have liked that verse in Job. Do you know it?—</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"'For He performeth the thing that is appointed for me.'<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>"It takes the sting out of so much if we can feel it is His hand
+behind."</p>
+
+<p>"Life has a good deal of bitterness in it," said Major Armitage, "but I
+think if I hadn't believed in that Hand, I should have blown my brains
+out long ago. As one lives on, though, one's patience gets exhausted."</p>
+
+<p>Then he pulled himself together, as if he had said too much. "What a
+beautiful little organ you have."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, isn't it? I have been wondering if you would ever like to take
+our services for us. We should enjoy it so much if you did."</p>
+
+<p>"Would you? I always think organists are tenacious of their position
+and resent any amateurs touching their beloved instrument."</p>
+
+<p>"But I am much more of an amateur than you are," said Joan, smiling.
+"And I have heard your playing once, and I long to hear it again."</p>
+
+<p>"Music is the comfort of my life," said Major Armitage. "I have only a
+piano here, but I am thinking of building an organ. Meanwhile, I tell
+you that I have very happy times in your little church."</p>
+
+<p>Then he began to talk over organ music with her. The personal note in
+his conversation disappeared, and Joan was rather glad of it. He was
+as yet too great a stranger for her to touch upon the deep things of
+life with ease in her talk with him. She was always shy of mentioning
+them herself; and he had surprised her by his words. Yet as they talked
+there over their comfortable meal, Joan felt an increasing liking for
+this man. He seemed so frank and straightforward that she could not
+reconcile the account of him which Maria had given to her sister with
+her actual experience now.</p>
+
+<p>When breakfast was over and she was about to depart again, Major
+Armitage stopped her.</p>
+
+<p>"You have a mile and a quarter to walk to the rectory through the fresh
+snow. If you want to see the doctor, he will most likely be here in an
+hour's time. What is the good of rushing home and back again before his
+visit? Stay with the rector till he comes, and write a note to your old
+servant. I will send my groom over with it at once."</p>
+
+<p>Joan considered a moment and then agreed. He took her across the hall
+to his smoking-room, and left her at the writing-table there. She
+wrote her note, gave it to the groom, who was waiting in the hall for
+it, and then with rapid steps went upstairs to her father. Maria was
+superintending one of the housemaids, who was tidying up the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you haven't gone, miss. The rector has been asking for you."</p>
+
+<p>Joan went up to the bedside. Her father was awake and feverishly
+anxious to get up.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been told by this good woman, my dear, where I am. I could
+hardly remember how I came here. I must go home, Joan. If I am ill,
+I must be in my own house; and there is Sunday coming. To-morrow is
+Saturday. If I cannot take the service, we must get someone else to do
+it. There are a lot of things to arrange. I must—"</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Father, dear, I will see to everything. We are only waiting till
+the doctor has been. You must not worry, and you must not talk."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was very firm. She sat down by the bed and began telling her
+father of some funny experiences she had had the previous morning in
+the village. His attention was diverted from himself; he smiled, then
+became sleepy again, and had a good half-hour's nap before the doctor
+arrived. Dr. Blount gave a good report of his patient.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe he has just staved off an attack of pneumonia. You must not
+attempt to move him to-day. Send over your old servant; she and her
+sister here will manage him nicely, and you can ease his mind best by
+running his business."</p>
+
+<p>For practical common sense Dr. Blount had no equal. When Joan was once
+convinced that her father was in no danger, and only required rest
+and care for a few days, she went straight down and interviewed Major
+Armitage again.</p>
+
+<p>She found him out in the garden directing a lad how to sweep the snow
+off the paths.</p>
+
+<p>He anticipated her in what she was about to say. "I am not going to let
+your father go to-day or to-morrow, whatever the doctor says."</p>
+
+<p>"It is most kind of you," Joan said; and then she told him what the
+doctor wished.</p>
+
+<p>"If you do not mind Sophia coming up, she will be a great comfort to
+Father; and I have really so many things to see to in the parish that I
+shall be quite content with Sophia's reports once a day."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do anything you like to suggest; but I hope you will feel free to
+run up whenever you have time. I am going up to town to-morrow for the
+night, but I'll come down to you myself on the way to the station, if I
+may, to tell you how I leave him."</p>
+
+<p>Joan thanked him with a lightened heart. Then, looking round her, she
+could not help exclaiming:</p>
+
+<p>"What a beautiful old home you have! Isn't it wonderful how grand and
+majestic a heavy fall of snow makes its surroundings? We might be now
+in the depths of a huge forest. Your trees and snow glades through them
+are magnificent."</p>
+
+<p>Major Armitage turned with her to face his old, weather-beaten,
+ivy-covered house. The wind had gone down, and there was that peculiar
+silence and stillness that fallen snow always brings.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a waiting house," he said, somewhat dreamily. "It has always
+borne that characteristic on its walls to me."</p>
+
+<p>Joan hardly knew what to say. He turned to her with a slow smile upon
+his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know any of its history, Miss Adair? For over a hundred years
+it has been the abode of lonely souls. No children's voices or steps
+have ever brightened its rooms. Three old bachelor brothers succeeded
+each other, then a childless couple, then two single women, and each
+heir was well over fifty before taking possession. My mother was the
+first who broke the chain, but she died six months after it had been
+bequeathed to her. And she told me that it had always been considered
+an unlucky legacy."</p>
+
+<p>"Has that any foundation?" Joan asked with interest.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a saying that until it reverts to the old family to whom it
+originally belonged, there will be no luck to its possessor."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was about to ask the name of that family, but such a stern shadow
+came over the Major's face that she refrained, and he turned almost
+abruptly away from her for a moment. Then, as she moved away from him,
+the smile came back to his lips again.</p>
+
+<p>"My house and I wait," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Joan went home that morning with much food for thought, and though her
+father figured foremost in her mind, there was another who figured in
+it too.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_8">CHAPTER VIII</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>AN ENCOUNTER WITH WILMOT</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>IN three days' time, the rector was moved home, and in a fortnight
+he was going about much as usual; but the result of his sojourn with
+Major Armitage was a distinct friendship with the lonely man. He often
+dropped in to see the rector and have a chat with him; he exchanged
+organ voluntaries with Joan, took the service himself one Sunday night,
+and fascinated everyone there by the beautiful music he gave them after
+the service was over.</p>
+
+<p>But though to Joan and her father he was always genial and pleasant, he
+refused to extend his friendship to society in general. And whispers
+were still circulated that he was queer, and had "a bee in his bonnet."
+Joan contradicted these rumours with much warmth, but the gossips shook
+their heads and retained their own opinions.</p>
+
+<p>A little incident that occurred made her realise that perhaps they had
+some foundation for their circulation, and yet, understanding a little
+better, as she did now, the working of an artistic nature, and withal
+an intensely dreamy one, she felt more distressed than ever that gossip
+should ferret out the secrets of an upright, honourable gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon, after a visit to the rector, Major Armitage promised
+to send Joan a Christmas carol of his own composition. She had been
+planning some carol practices for Christmas, and he had told her of
+some with which she had never become acquainted. And then he had added:</p>
+
+<p>"With an author's egotism, I am wondering if you would like to have a
+look at a carol which was sung in Ely Cathedral one year. The organist
+was a great friend of mine, and got me to compose the music for some
+old words he had found in an antiquated history of Cambridgeshire."</p>
+
+<p>Joan accepted his offer with delight, and the roll of music came. As
+she was unrolling it, a rough sheet of manuscript tumbled out of it.
+It had evidently slipped in by mistake. She glanced at the words, and
+then with caught breath and tearful eyes she read them through again,
+and then an overwhelming feeling of shame took possession of her for
+reading them at all.</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<br>
+"Sweet of my heart, we are quite alone,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Alone in the twilight grey;<br>
+&nbsp;Eyes are not needed, only our souls<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Touch in an exquisite way.<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+"Do I not see thee? I close my eyes,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I need not the light of day;<br>
+&nbsp;My lady sits here by the flickering fire—<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I know she has come to stay.<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+"How can I paint the sweet face that is mine,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The face so purely serene;<br>
+&nbsp;The eyes that are softly searching my soul<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With their glance so bright and keen;<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+"The proud little head, with its poise half gay,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Yet so bewitchingly shy;<br>
+&nbsp;The lips that quiver, that open to speak,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Then close with a pensive sigh?<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+"Heart of my heart, and queen of my love,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I gaze on thee, full of bliss,<br>
+&nbsp;The ache of a lonely hearth is worth while<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;To give a moment like this."<br>
+&nbsp;<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 20em;">R. A.</span><br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>It was the key to the Major's silent hour by the fireside of the room
+which was full of his music and poetry; the room which was closed
+against outsiders and strangers, but which was a hallowed spot to his
+soul.</p>
+
+<p>Joan comprehended in a flash as she read, and for some minutes she
+stood wrapped in thought with the paper in her hand. Then she wondered
+what she had better do. She dreaded letting Major Armitage know that
+she had seen and read it. She felt she could not tell him; she could
+not write to him. Finally she rolled up the little song and sent it
+back to him by post, writing across the wrapper:</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Found inside the carol."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>By neither word nor sign did the Major ever let her know that he had
+received it.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair and Cecil still stayed away. They wrote occasionally,
+and one morning the rector looked up from his wife's letter with
+disappointment in his face.</p>
+
+<p>"I was hoping they would come home for Christmas, Joan, but your mother
+says they are going to spend it in Cheshire with a cousin of hers. We
+shall not see much of them, I am afraid. Your mother wants to go abroad
+again in January."</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said Joan gravely, "that you and I, Dad, dear, had better
+make up our minds to run this parish without them. When they come home,
+we will welcome them gladly, but we won't keep on expecting them; their
+visits will be always short, I know."</p>
+
+<p>"But why?" Mr. Adair demanded rather impatiently. "Why should they not
+stay in their own comfortable home when they are in England? I can
+imagine Cecil's delicacy necessitating a warmer climate, but Edinburgh
+and Cheshire are colder climates than ours? It is not right; your
+mother ought to be here."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was silent. She knew her father had never grasped and would never
+grasp the fact that Mrs. Adair had a real distaste for her clerical
+home. After a few minutes she said gently:</p>
+
+<p>"Cecil can have a good many more luxuries away than she can at home,
+and at less expense."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes. I know that. But these visits seem to cost a good deal.
+I must send your mother another cheque this morning, and a bill has
+come in from some London shop. I suppose it is for clothes; you will
+understand the items, but it is for a big amount, seventeen pounds!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan took the bill, a dressmaker's, and then she said:</p>
+
+<p>"I think I should forward this to mother. She settles for these."</p>
+
+<p>But she doubted in her heart as she said so whether Mrs. Adair would
+do so. She never could cut down her private expenses to her private
+income, and her husband had to pay for a good deal.</p>
+
+<p>It was one of those days when clouds seemed heavy overhead. Some
+quarrel amongst the bell-ringers had to be inquired into and set
+straight; then Jenny was sent for from home to attend to her mother,
+who had scalded her leg badly, and Joan had to get another village girl
+to take her place.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Borfield called, and poured out a grievance which she had been
+nursing in private for some considerable time. The last rector had
+always consulted her over various village matters. She was being shown
+now that her services were not valued or needed. She had not been asked
+to tea at the rectory for over two months; Joan never came to see her,
+and so on.</p>
+
+<p>Joan listened, sympathised, apologised, explained, and promised that
+things would be different for the future. At half-past three in the
+afternoon she had found herself feeling so irritable and impatient with
+everybody, indoors and out, that she ran up to her room, flung on her
+hat and coat, and started out to walk off her bad feelings.</p>
+
+<p>The air and solitude were a certain cure with Joan for depression, for
+she held communion then with One Who was able to rest and calm the
+turbulent waters.</p>
+
+<p>She walked to her favourite pine wood. It was a cold but bright
+afternoon. The words that she had quoted to Major Armitage a short time
+ago came into her mind:</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"For He performeth the thing that is appointed for me."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>And as she thought upon it, peace came into her soul. Amongst the
+silent pines, looking down upon a vista of valley and clustering
+cottages round the old grey church, she lifted her heart heavenwards.</p>
+
+<p>"Just the cutting and shaping and friction that I need," she said to
+herself, "as Major Armitage said, 'I believe in the Hand behind.'"</p>
+
+<p>Her thoughts turned to him as she retraced her steps homeward, and then
+suddenly she met Wilmot Gascoigne. He had been supplying her with books
+of late, but though he had called several times upon her father, Joan
+happened to have missed him.</p>
+
+<p>"What a walker you are!" he said, as he shook hands with her. "I always
+find you out, but have never had the luck to meet you before. Have you
+been on one of your usual errands of mercy?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Joan, smiling. "I have simply and solely walked out to
+please myself; in fact, I have been walking off bad temper."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could do that. But I don't believe in your black words.
+You are always the personification of radiant cheerfulness. I am, or
+have been, in the devil of a temper all day, when every living human
+creature is an annoyance to me. I am going to chuck up the Gascoigne
+Chronicles for a time. They have got on my nerves. I am going up to
+town for a few weeks. I want to have a look at some books in the
+British Museum. Do you know what I am thinking of doing?"</p>
+
+<p>"No—what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Taking a tour in America, and lecturing on the Ancient Homes of
+Britain. Nothing takes over there like the histories and legends of the
+aristocracy. And I want a wider sphere and a change of work."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you were always content and happy amongst your books."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said, with a bitter smile, "that is what my good relatives
+think; they are continually flinging it in my teeth. Books are my food,
+my meat and drink, and my life; but I have other aims in life, and just
+now I need money. My American tour will bring me in a golden harvest."</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to hear you lecture," said Joan, thoughtfully. "Why
+won't you give us a village lecture one day? Take some subject that
+will suit our villagers. One of the greatest pleasures in life must be
+to impart the knowledge which we have."</p>
+
+<p>"I know that is your creed. You inspire me to try. Now what possible
+subject could interest the intellects of your villagers?"</p>
+
+<p>"It requires consideration," said Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you think it out, and I will do the same, and I'll drop in on
+Saturday afternoon to compare notes. I know the rector is always in
+then; he told me so."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. I'm sure my father will be pleased at the idea. We were
+wishing we could give the men some kind of entertainment."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not a village entertainer," said Wilmot, with a laugh, "and it is
+the most difficult thing in the world to talk down to such an audience.
+But I'll have a try at it to please you. How have you got on with
+Miller's 'Indian Philosophy'?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I have had little time for reading lately," said Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"It's an awful waste of a cultivated intellect to be placed where you
+are," said Wilmot, with earnestness. "Why don't you strike?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Joan, with a shake of her head. "My circumstances
+necessitate it. I am trying to be content."</p>
+
+<p>"Any fool could run a country parish!" said Wilmot hotly.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, but I disagree. My father is no fool, and he cannot do it
+single-handed and alone."</p>
+
+<p>"There's a paper I want you to read in the 'National Review,'" Wilmot
+went on. "I want a woman's view on it. I left it at the rectory just
+now. Will you make time to read it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I will try. I shall enjoy it, I expect. Magazine articles do not
+want the leisure that philosophical treatises do."</p>
+
+<p>He turned to another subject which was then filling his mind, the
+dawning of the Renaissance Period, and he talked fast and furiously
+over it. When he lost himself in his subject, he was intensely
+brilliant and interesting. Joan listened entranced, and when they
+reached the rectory gates, she heaved a sigh of regret.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," she said impulsively, "I could listen to you all night; you have
+taken me right out of myself and my surroundings!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is a treat to meet with a kindred soul," said Wilmot,
+enthusiastically. "Look here, Miss Adair; we must see more of each
+other. I assure you I haven't a single person in this neighbourhood
+with whom I can exchange a few ideas."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know Major Armitage?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. He's a musical genius, I hear, and a crank. I should say he never
+opens a book."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe he has a very good library."</p>
+
+<p>"Has he? If I thought that, I would look him up. Well, then, Saturday
+you will see me again. Au revoir!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan turned indoors. She liked Wilmot Gascoigne, and she did not like
+him. Her intellect appreciated his; her spirit clashed with his, and
+her instinct told her that his influence was not wholly uplifting.</p>
+
+<p>"I like and admire him as a teacher," she said to herself, "but I would
+not have him as a friend."</p>
+
+<p>Saturday came, and he turned up to tea full of the village lecture he
+proposed to give.</p>
+
+<p>Joan suggested a lecture on the historical events that had happened
+in the county, with special reference to those of local interest. Mr.
+Adair thought a talk about drink and politics would suit the labouring
+men. Wilmot himself proposed a lecture on political economy. They
+finally settled that he should give a lecture on "Country versus Town
+Life," and he and Joan had a very long and animated discussion upon
+that theme.</p>
+
+<p>She broke away from him at last. "You must excuse me. Do stay and talk
+to my father. This is his free evening. But I have a Sunday school
+lesson to prepare and some mark books to make up, and it is half-past
+ten."</p>
+
+<p>Wilmot did not stay. He liked the rector, but it was his daughter he
+came to see.</p>
+
+<p>And for the next ten days before the lecture came off, he was
+continually at the rectory.</p>
+
+<p>Banty arrived one afternoon, and found Joan sweeping the garden paths.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm getting some leaves together to go on our bonfire. I'm tired of
+the untidiness of the garden, so I'm making a clearance of a lot of
+rubbish. Come into the orchard and see it burn."</p>
+
+<p>"I always like you so much better out of doors," Banty remarked;
+"you're so much more like an ordinary human being then."</p>
+
+<p>Joan laughed. "What am I indoors?"</p>
+
+<p>"A very superior rector's daughter."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't think I deserve that. I assure you don't feel so."</p>
+
+<p>"What have you been doing to Motty? He has left the seclusion of the
+library, and is for ever coming down here. He told Father to-day that
+he must have a holiday; and we hear he is going to give a village
+lecture. I warn you, they won't understand one word of it. Have you
+bewitched him?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan was busy stacking up her bonfire. She did not answer for a moment;
+then she said lightly:</p>
+
+<p>"Father and your cousin like a smoke and chat together. I don't think
+you give Mr. Wilmot much of your company as a rule."</p>
+
+<p>"I should think not. Can't stand his stilted talk. But why is he so
+keen on coming here to talk to you? That's what I want to know!"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose we have tastes in common," said Joan, a little
+indifferently. "I am very fond of books, and so is he."</p>
+
+<p>Banty looked at her in silence; then she said abruptly: "I believe
+everybody likes to talk to you; I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Now that is nice of you," said Joan, turning a smiling face towards
+her. "I thought you were going to be disagreeable a few minutes ago."</p>
+
+<p>"I meant to be. Motty provoked me by singing your praises and saying
+that you were wasted upon us. 'A village of clodhoppers,' he called us;
+and I know he meant to include the Hall in that disparaging epithet.
+We are not clever—I know we aren't—but we are happy and contented with
+our country life, and Motty spends his time in abusing it and sneering
+at all our neighbours. He tells me he is going to speak about country
+and town life to the villagers. I suppose you know what he will do? He
+will make London a paradise, and set every young man by the ears to go
+there. He'll stir up discontent and restlessness, and make them all
+hate their country lives. You see if you don't bring a hornet's nest
+into our village schoolroom when he gets up on his hind legs to speak."</p>
+
+<p>Joan had never heard Banty speak at such length before. She looked
+dismayed at the picture which was painted.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think he will do that. I will talk to him about it."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you are infatuated with him," said Banty, a little rudely,
+"just as my cousins are in town. Motty is full of himself. I wish he
+didn't live with us. He always makes us uncomfortable by his airs of
+superiority. Now, Derrick Colleton is quite different. It is a pleasure
+to have him in the house."</p>
+
+<p>"Derrick is a dear," assented Joan, warmly.</p>
+
+<p>"What I like about you is your variety," pursued Banty, watching Joan
+feeding the bonfire with critical eyes. "You may be a bookworm at
+heart, but you don't mind painting a jingle, or mending a gate, or
+making a bonfire—versatility is the word I want!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's just necessity," laughed Joan; "but I enjoy it all, and any fire
+in the open exhilarates me—doesn't it you? I made a fire up in the pine
+woods the other afternoon, and sat by it, and had an hour's reading. It
+was delicious!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll come up and join you one day, if I may. I want to talk to you,
+only, when hunting is on, I haven't much time."</p>
+
+<p>"All right," said Joan, feeling rather sorry that she had given her
+quiet retreat away. "But will you join me in reading or do you want to
+talk?"</p>
+
+<p>"To talk," said Banty, frankly and unfeelingly. "I can't talk indoors—I
+never could. Out of doors I feel at ease. Let us meet in the pine woods
+to-morrow. I can't hunt till next Monday. I've knocked up two hunters
+this week, and father has got riled and says I must give them a rest."</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow afternoon?" said Joan, dubiously. "Well, I will try."</p>
+
+<p>"Let us boil a kettle and have tea out there," suggested Banty, with
+alacrity.</p>
+
+<p>Joan agreed, for she wanted to win the confidence of Banty, and knew it
+would not do to damp her friendliness.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I think I'll go now," said Banty. "You'll get sick of me if I
+give you too much of my company."</p>
+
+<p>Joan laughed again as she shook hands with her. "You have a very humble
+opinion of your own powers of attractiveness."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not attractive to women," said Banty, bluntly; "never can
+understand them. I always vote them a bore, and they vote me one.
+Good-bye."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked after her. She swung away with a boyish stride, and was
+soon out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear! What waste of time it will be. Why should she fix upon me to
+beguile her dull hours? And what can she have to say to me?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan poked away at the bonfire rather fiercely. Banty was quite right
+in her estimate of herself. She was not an attractive personality to
+any of her own sex, for she never troubled to make herself pleasant
+to them, and Joan did not look forward with any pleasure to the
+appointment made.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_9">CHAPTER IX</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>JOAN'S GODMOTHER</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>JOAN nearly forgot to meet Banty as arranged, for a letter in the
+morning absorbed her thoughts. It was from her godmother, Lady Alicia,
+saying she was coming down into their neighbourhood for a week's visit
+to some old friends, and would much like to spend a few days at the
+rectory and see her goddaughter. Lady Alicia had been to Joan from the
+time she was a tiny child the embodiment of all that was enchanting and
+delightful. Joan had almost worshipped her, though the times in which
+she had seen her were very few and far between. They had corresponded
+for many years. Lady Alicia had refused to lose touch with her even
+after her confirmation, and Joan felt that she could never express her
+gratitude sufficiently for having been enabled to go to Girton by her
+godmother's generous help.</p>
+
+<p>Never before had Joan entertained Lady Alicia in her mother's absence,
+and it was five years since her godmother had come to see them. When
+Mr. Adair was told, he became rather flustered.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Joan, your mother ought to be here. You must tell her. Perhaps
+it will bring her back. Lady Alicia is one of your mother's greatest
+friends. I should not like to have her here when your mother is away. I
+don't think she would care about it either."</p>
+
+<p>"She has seen Mother in Edinburgh, Father. She tells me so, and Mother
+knows she is coming, for she told her she would like to do it. She is
+coming to see me, for she is my godmother, remember. I am delighted."</p>
+
+<p>"She is a very pleasant woman," said Mr. Adair; "but I hope she is not
+going to persuade you to leave your work here and take up teaching. I
+know she is a clever woman herself, and learning of any sort is her
+hobby."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not going to leave you, Dad," said Joan gently.</p>
+
+<p>Then she went out to tell Sophia, and that worthy was as pleased as
+Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall be very pleased to see her ladyship, of course, and I'll have
+the best spare bedroom aired at once; and we must just plan out some
+tasty little dinners. How many days do you say, Miss Joan? A few? Then
+we'll say four dinners at the most, and I'll think them out and let you
+know what we shall be wanting. She's a real nice lady, is her ladyship,
+and I'm glad to think you'll be here alone, for the last time she were
+with us 'twas your holidays, and you were sent out of doors whiles the
+mistress talked and talked and talked! Oh, how she talked! And when her
+ladyship went, she says to me, whiles I were strapping her box:</p>
+
+<p>"'Sophia, my little goddaughter will grow up a fine woman. I'm sorry to
+have seen so little of her.'</p>
+
+<p>"And a fine young woman you be, Miss Joan, and I'm sure her ladyship
+will think so when she looks at you. I often think in the present time
+that we shan't have their lordships and ladyships with us much longer.
+So we must make the most of them when we can get them. Now the House
+of Lords is humbled and made nought of, and these dreadful agitating
+strikers and social ruffians are for destroying their houses and lands,
+well, the poor things will be driven out of the country; and then it's
+the ones who've driven them will wish them back again!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Sophia!" said Joan, putting her hands to her ears. "For mercy's
+sake stop. Thank goodness Lady Alicia has no houses or land to be taken
+from her!"</p>
+
+<p>She left the kitchen, wrote to her godmother, and went about her daily
+duties as if in a dream.</p>
+
+<p>It was not till late in the afternoon that she remembered Banty; and
+it was not in the best of humours that she got her tea basket and
+started out for the pine woods. But a walk across the heath restored
+her equanimity. It was a soft, mild day, with a wild-looking sky; the
+sun shone out between masses of grey, scudding clouds; the west wind
+soughed in the pines. The distances were blue and clear, here and there
+on far-away hills were wonderful effects of sunshine and shadow.</p>
+
+<p>Joan found Banty first at their trysting place, and she was building a
+fire in a very business-like manner. For a little while they chatted
+together in a light-hearted fashion, then, when they were sitting down
+watching for the kettle to boil, Banty began:</p>
+
+<p>"I want to talk to you. You're not an old frump, and I'm sure you
+have plenty of common sense. Do you think girls nowadays are better
+unmarried?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan had hoped for some better subject for conversation than this; but
+she checked her momentary feeling of impatience and answered:</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not. If they meet the right man, it is in every respect good
+to marry."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but how does any girl know that the man who proposes to her is
+the right man?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think her heart will tell her. Are you wanting to be married?"</p>
+
+<p>"Me? Rather not! But Mother wants me to think about it. She told me
+this morning that if anything happened to Father, I should lose my home
+and hunting. I could do without a home, but to give up hunting! Why, I
+think I would die! You see Father's heir is a distant cousin, a married
+man with a family, and Mother and I would have to promptly clear out.
+But, of course, Father may outlive us—at least he may live many years.
+I've always felt I'm not made for a wife. I have no domesticities about
+me, and men like and expect that, don't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"You will not always be able to hunt," said Joan slowly. "What will you
+do when you get rheumaticky and old?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean to live and die in the hunting-field," said Banty firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"It means a very sudden death, then. Do you wish for that?"</p>
+
+<p>Banty stared at Joan with big eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, no; it would be terrible, awful!" She shuddered. "Don't let
+us talk about death; it seems so gruesome. It is such an appalling
+upheaval, isn't it, of our very pleasant matter-of-fact lives."</p>
+
+<p>"You 'do' think sometimes." Joan said this almost to herself.</p>
+
+<p>Banty laughed a little awkwardly, then shied some fir cones into the
+fire.</p>
+
+<p>"I was wondering the other day," she said, "whether I had better say
+'yes' to a man who is pestering me with his attentions. And I thought I
+would ask you. For I assure you, I can't make up my mind. Mother wants
+me to have him, because he has lots of tin, and I'd have a jolly good
+time if I married him. But I'm not so keen on money as on good company,
+and he's the dullest man in the whole field—rides well, but nothing
+else. If I got bored after I had married him, what should I do?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you don't love him, don't marry him," said Joan quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well then, supposing I don't get another offer, and Mother's gloomy
+forecast comes true?"</p>
+
+<p>"But, Miss Gascoigne, there really are other enjoyments in life besides
+hunting."</p>
+
+<p>"There isn't one to me."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you do in the summer?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have a vile time."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked at the girl softly and seriously, then she put out her hand
+and laid it on her arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Wake up!" she said. "You're half asleep. Somewhere inside you, you
+have a spirit, a soul. There are tremendous possibilities for that soul
+of yours, and an awfully happy life for you if you can only get it to
+stir and prove that it is alive. Happiness all the year round, and not
+only in the winter!"</p>
+
+<p>Banty stared at her again, but Joan did not say another word. She
+occupied herself in making two very good cups of tea, and brought the
+conversation into lighter channels. Banty was led to talk of otters
+and of their habits, and then she gave Joan a lot of interesting
+information about the different birds in their locality. She did not
+mention the subject of marriage again; but when they at last rose to go
+their different ways, she said with emphasis:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not quite the sleepy fool you take me to be."</p>
+
+<p>Joan walked home wondering if she had wasted the hour in the woods or
+not. She had a very small opinion of her own powers in influencing
+anyone for good, which was rather strange, as she had a wild enthusiasm
+for imparting all other knowledge to those who were without it. Outside
+her own gate, she stood gazing at the distant hills; the sun was
+sending long, crimson streaks across the sky as he sank behind the
+pines. She lifted up her face to inhale the soft west breeze which
+seemed to be bringing her the aromatic scent of the heather and pines.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," she murmured to herself, "it's good to be alive in this beautiful
+world—and I've a delicious bit in front of me. How I shall love to have
+Lady Alicia all to myself!"</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>The following evening, Wilmot Gascoigne gave his village lecture. Lady
+Gascoigne insisted upon coming to it herself, and persuaded Sir Joseph
+to accompany her. Banty refused to be present. The village schoolroom
+was crowded. Joan was rather nervous when Wilmot opened his lecture by
+a comparison between a town and country boy at fourteen. He gave an
+imaginary conversation between them which tickled and delighted his
+audience, but which showed the country boy at a great disadvantage.
+Then, as he talked on, he forgot his class of audience, and his talk
+became absolutely unintelligible. He drifted into political economy,
+he quoted various authors with whom, of course, nobody was acquainted;
+he grew more and more rapid and enthusiastic in his talk, and finally
+ended his lecture by declaring that the country bred flourishing
+bodies, but that town produced, and could only produce, brains.</p>
+
+<p>"Bosh!" exclaimed the squire in audible tones.</p>
+
+<p>Joan felt a great inclination to laugh. Her father, who was taking the
+chair, got up in his genial and good-natured way and tried to stand up
+for his parishioners.</p>
+
+<p>"I think the lecturer is hard upon the countryfolk," he said smiling.
+"I am not very learned myself, but I do remember several authors and
+poets who have done all their best work in the country, and some of
+them were country bred."</p>
+
+<p>"The Brontës!" prompted Joan.</p>
+
+<p>The rector did not hear her. The gaping audience had hardly taken in
+any of the lecture. They clapped when their rector proposed the vote of
+thanks to the lecturer, and went to their homes declaring that it was
+the "finest performance" they had ever heard, and Mr. Wilmot was just a
+"speakin' dictionary."</p>
+
+<p>Wilmot did not seem so pleased with himself as Joan expected him to be.
+He turned into the rectory to have some supper.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said a little defiantly to Joan, "my role is not that of a
+village lecturer, is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Joan, laughing. "I don't think it is; but I am sure you gave
+a great deal of pleasure. One old woman said to me coming out: 'Ay,
+me dear, he ought to be a parson, sure enough! That's the style of
+praychin for we—a reg'lar clap-up style with plenty of noise with it!'"</p>
+
+<p>Wilmot tried to smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," he groaned, "it was like talking to rows of stolid cows. There
+wasn't one spark of life amongst them. Their eyes were as thick and
+vacant as a fish's! How can you peg away at them, rector?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair looked at Wilmot rather gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"'Line upon line—here a little—there a little,' They are not so stupid
+as they look."</p>
+
+<p>"You had some interested listeners," said Joan. "Major Armitage was at
+the back. He slipped in late and went away early."</p>
+
+<p>"He's a crank," said Wilmot shortly. "I'm much more interested in his
+house than himself. It has a curious record."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I know about it," said Joan. "To whom did it originally belong?"</p>
+
+<p>"To the Rollestons. They sold the property about a hundred years ago,
+and the Armitages bought it. Don't let us talk about that fellow. Do
+you ever go up to town, Miss Adair?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, never. We are expecting a visitor, an old friend of my mother's,
+so my time will be taken up."</p>
+
+<p>"Does that mean you will have no time for me? I am going to get you to
+read up that book on the Renaissance. I shall expect to hear how you
+like it when I come back from town."</p>
+
+<p>"How long will you be away? You seem to have no idea of the life I
+lead. I cannot have infinite leisure for reading; I wish I could."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be away about ten days or a fortnight. Don't let your mind
+rust. We are told to use our talents. Your most important duty is to
+cultivate the intellect that has been given you."</p>
+
+<p>Joan smiled at these platitudes, but the earnestness of Wilmot's tones
+made her reply:</p>
+
+<p>"The difficulty with me is to refrain from reading. It is not a duty,
+but a real pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>She was relieved that Wilmot was going up to town. She found his
+constant visits rather a detriment to her parish work.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>The next day Lady Alicia arrived. Joan met her at the station with the
+one shabby fly that Old Bellerton possessed.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia was of medium height and rather slender. She was always
+extremely well dressed in a quiet style of her own. Her white hair and
+delicately-cut features, with a pair of brilliant, dark eyes, gave her
+a remarkable and attractive look.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Joan, dear, I don't think I should have known you. You are
+looking bonny," was the greeting she gave her goddaughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I am always in rude health," said Joan laughing. Then, as she
+led her to the fly, she added: "I still feel as I always used to feel,
+that you are a kind of fairy godmother, quite different from the usual
+people I am accustomed to mix with."</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say you will find me stepping down from that pedestal before
+long," said Lady Alicia smiling.</p>
+
+<p>Then they talked about Mrs. Adair and Cecil, and they arrived at the
+rectory just after four.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair came out into the porch to meet them. Lady Alicia delighted
+him by expressing herself charmed with the old rectory. Joan took her
+up to the spare room, which looked dainty and bright with its blazing
+fire, and fresh flowers on the dressing-table.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," said Lady Alicia, as she sat down in the easy chair by the fire;
+"your father has his right setting at last, Joan. I always told him a
+country rectory would be his fate one day. I'm sure he is much happier
+in the country; is he not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he certainly is. He loves this place, and is only disappointed
+that Mother finds it too cold to stay here."</p>
+
+<p>"She must stay here in the summer, then. I told her so. You will
+have her back in May, I hope, Joan. I want to ask you ever so many
+questions, but they will keep. What a dear, quaint, little house you
+have! I love its dark oak and low rooms. There is such a sense of peace
+and quiet in it!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you feel it so?" Joan asked eagerly with a flush on her cheeks. "It
+impressed me like that the first time I saw it. In the rush and hurry
+of every day, I lose that sense, except when I have been out and come
+in; then it always strikes me as a haven. And rectories ought to have
+restful, peaceful atmospheres, ought they not? So many who have lived
+and died in them have been in close touch with heaven."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," assented Lady Alicia gravely; but her eyes softened as they
+rested on Joan's fair, happy face.</p>
+
+<p>Joan left her to see that tea was ready, and old Sophia, beaming in her
+best black dress, slipped upstairs to "wait on" her ladyship.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia shook her by the hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Sophia, your young lady is turning into a beauty. She was a
+gawky schoolgirl when I saw her last."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, my lady, she's the best of the bunch; nothing comes irksome to
+her. And she shoulders her burdens with a joke and a laugh. The master
+would be lost without her. He's getting to lean upon her. I always
+do say, my lady, that women be the props of the nation. A man has no
+common sense to guide him without her."</p>
+
+<p>"I think we can stand alone better than they can," said Lady Alicia
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p>She and Sophia understood each other thoroughly, and Sophia now bent
+forward with an anxious look in her old eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, my lady, could you not get the mistress to be more here now? She's
+wanted. The master fair pines for the sight of her."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Sophia. How often have you asked me that before! But I sometimes
+think it is a little kink in her brain. She will not settle down in her
+own home. And don't you see that now, when she has a daughter who so
+well fills her place, she will be less likely than ever to come back
+and work in her husband's parish?"</p>
+
+<p>"If she were only to bide in the house along with the master, 'twould
+ease his dear mind. She were never cut out for parish visiting."</p>
+
+<p>"That she was not!" said Lady Alicia with her pleasant laugh. "You are
+a good creature, Sophia. I see you are determined to unpack me; but, I
+assure you, since I have travelled about the world as a lone woman, I
+am quite accustomed to maid myself. I'm in love with your old house. I
+feel as if I were transplanted back a hundred years."</p>
+
+<p>She came into the drawing-room a little time later, and the rector and
+Joan and she had a very cosy tea and chat together. Then the rector
+went off to his study, and Joan and Lady Alicia sat on in the firelight
+talking of many things. Joan described the neighbours, the villagers,
+and the life surrounding the rectory. She told Lady Alicia of the offer
+which had been made to her and which she had refused.</p>
+
+<p>"You think I was right? I hope you don't think I ought to have gone. I
+do not feel that my college education has been wasted, for I am always
+hoping that the time may come when I shall be able to profit by it. In
+any case, knowledge is never waste, is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not unless you bury it in a napkin," said Lady Alicia. "My dear Joan,
+I think you could not have acted otherwise, but I gave your mother a
+good scolding when I saw her in Edinburgh. She is ruining Cecil. That
+girl is no more delicate than I am; it is just a case of nerves and
+fancies."</p>
+
+<p>"She will never be different," said Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," Lady Alicia rejoined, looking thoughtfully into
+the coal fire in front of her. "I felt that I should like to take
+possession of her and see if I could not wake her into life. She has
+brains."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Joan; "I often wish she would use the brains she has. But I
+don't think sisters can ever help one another. Cecil laughs at me and
+calls me old-fashioned."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor little Joan!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan was sitting on a low chair, and Lady Alicia for a moment laid her
+hand caressingly on her head.</p>
+
+<p>Then Joan turned a flushed face and tearful eyes towards her.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Lady Alicia, I do want to work; I do want to do something with my
+life. There is so much that we women can do nowadays. This is such a
+small sphere for an able-bodied woman! I feel sometimes as if anyone
+could potter in and out of the cottages and talk to the old women. It
+sounds conceited if I say it isn't worth my while, but I really do fear
+lest this easy, monotonous country life should paralyse my powers. Do
+comfort and help me, if you can. Sometimes I feel as if I can never go
+on."</p>
+
+<p>"And I have helped you to test the power of your wings. I wonder if it
+was wise."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia looked affectionately at her as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I can never thank you enough. You lifted me into another atmosphere
+altogether."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am not going to regret sending you to Girton. But, Joan dear,
+you and I believe in the ordering of our lives by One Who never makes
+mistakes. Why fret over this bit of your life, even if it seems to you
+somewhat inactive? It fits in all right with the plan. If we don't have
+the key to it, it does not signify. There may be some soul here whom
+God has purposed shall be helped by you. I know a good woman who was
+sent out all the way to India to help a gay young bride. Of course,
+she did not know the reason of it at the time—she hated Anglo-Indian
+society, and she was placed in the midst of it for four months—but she
+understood afterwards, and was so thankful that she had not yielded to
+her inclinations to stay at home with congenial friends. There may be
+some troubles which are hard to bear, but I never think the plain force
+of circumstances, however uncongenial, ought to fret us in the least.
+Instead of spending our time in useless repining, let us look about and
+discover the bit of work which we are meant to do. The best tools are
+used for the simplest work. If you have an aptitude for teaching and
+moulding and influencing, there is somebody in this part of the world
+who is waiting for you to begin on them."</p>
+
+<p>"That is delightful to think of," said Joan slowly. "Somehow or other I
+have felt it must be to shape my own character and make me patient in
+the day of small things, and though I have prayed to be made willing,
+yet it has been a constant struggle to be so. I am ashamed of myself
+as I think of this sweet home. I love the country, too, and if I could
+feel sure that I was not missing better opportunities, I would settle
+down contentedly here. You have done me such a lot of good."</p>
+
+<p>"Settle down," said Lady Alicia. "It may seem a small life to you, but
+'Better is an handful with quietness, than both the hands full with
+travail and vexation of spirit.' Do you remember that wise saying of
+Solomon's? You do not know from what you may be saved. I know you are
+ambitious, and feel that you have powers that are not being used at
+present. A public life for a woman very often brings great strain. You
+have a 'handful with quietness' here. It is God's will for you; glorify
+Him in it."</p>
+
+<p>And then there was silence between them. Both were occupied with their
+own thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>For the rest of that evening Lady Alicia touched on more general
+topics. She was a good talker, and had the gift of suiting her
+conversation to her company. Mr. Adair always enjoyed a talk with her,
+and, when dinner was over, he did not retire to his study, as was his
+usual custom, but came into the drawing-room, where he and Lady Alicia
+had a long and interesting discussion on Church methods.</p>
+
+<p>Joan listened, and enjoyed it; and whilst she listened, she pondered
+over Lady Alicia's words.</p>
+
+<p>"Settle down." Yes, she determined she would, and Wilmot Gascoigne
+should not make her dissatisfied with her sphere. There was no
+stagnation where there was life—and if village life was to be her
+opportunity for work, she must do it with a glad heart.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_10">CHAPTER X</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>OFF TO THE RIVIERA</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>LADY ALICIA threw herself heart and soul, for the time being, into
+the village circle in which she found herself. She walked out with
+Joan, and visited the old and sick; she took a Sunday school class of
+girls, she attended the choir practices, covered library books, checked
+club accounts, and was as keen as Joan herself over the welfare of
+the parishioners. One evening after Joan had been practising Major
+Armitage's carol, they began to talk about him.</p>
+
+<p>"He must be a real musician," said Lady Alicia. "I should like to hear
+him play. I know his brother in Yorkshire, and have often heard about
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"He has been in London for the last fortnight," said Joan. "He often
+comes round for a chat with Father when he is at home, but I have never
+had the courage to ask him to play. He is a very reserved man in many
+ways, and I always think he has a history."</p>
+
+<p>She then told Lady Alicia of the gossip about the place and of what
+Maria had confided to her sister.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor, lonely man!" said Lady Alicia softly.</p>
+
+<p>"For what and whom is he waiting?" Joan asked. "I have never forgotten
+the quiet, determined way in which he said to me: 'My house and I
+wait.' Somehow I cannot believe that his unseen companion is simply an
+ideal of his imagination."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Lady Alicia very quietly. "I think I can tell you that that
+is not so."</p>
+
+<p>"You know his story?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do. Would you like to hear it?"</p>
+
+<p>A faint flush rose in Joan's cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't help feeling an interest in him. But I do not want to be
+curious. He told me the unlucky history of his house, but no more."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not think there would be any harm in your knowing what I
+know. I happen to be acquainted with the girl. She was a Miss Irene
+Waldborough. They met at the house of a friend of mine before he went
+to the war in South Africa. She was only about nineteen then. They were
+not engaged; I suppose there was mutual attraction between them. He was
+foolish, I think, not to speak. In any case, she thought he did not
+care for her, and when her mother, who was of French extraction, and
+believed in arranging things for her daughter, pressed a certain young
+and rich American upon her, Irene yielded and became engaged to him.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw her when the news of Major Armitage's wounds reached home.
+Everybody thought he would be blind for life. I knew then that he
+still held her love. She was in great distress of mind; and when he
+eventually returned home, she wanted to go and see him. Her mother
+prevented this and urged Frank Denbury the American to marry sooner
+than was proposed. The marriage was hurried on, and was about to take
+place, when Major Armitage and Irene met. He had sent in his papers and
+was staying with his brother. He had not even heard of the engagement.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know how it was done, as you may be very certain Major
+Armitage would never have spoken. But young people have instincts.
+She came to her mother and refused to marry. Mrs. Waldborough was
+furious. There was a great disturbance, and I suppose in the end her
+will got the better of her daughter's, for the marriage took place. It
+was one of those things that one cannot understand. Three days after
+the wedding, the bridegroom was summoned back by cable to America. He
+could not take her with him, and he has never been heard of since.
+About two years ago there was a report of his death, but though all the
+best detectives were set to work, and no amount of money was spared in
+trying to trace evidence of his movements, the inquiry did not prove
+satisfactory. Irene was married five years ago, and seems now neither
+maid nor wife."</p>
+
+<p>"And did she meet the Major again? Does she know he has recovered his
+sight?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. You see she lives only five miles from his brother in Yorkshire.
+I saw her about a month ago. She told me all this herself, and told me,
+too, that she is determined to wait seven years if necessary, but that
+she can bring nobody else into her life until she has more definite
+proof of her husband's death."</p>
+
+<p>"If I were Major Armitage," said Joan slowly, "I should go out and find
+proofs."</p>
+
+<p>"That was the first thing he tried to do. He went out two years ago,
+directly there was this indefinite report; but he could find nothing
+beyond the facts already known, that one night Frank Denbury had ridden
+away from a certain small town with two friends. These both swore that
+he parted with them at a certain point and went in another direction
+towards a village which he never reached."</p>
+
+<p>"And so Major Armitage is waiting for the seven years to pass," Joan
+said meditatively. "What a romantic story! Tell me what she is like,
+Lady Alicia."</p>
+
+<p>"Irene is small and slight and dark, rather like your Cecil, but with a
+great deal of sweet dignity about her and a certain dainty shyness that
+makes it difficult to believe that she is a married woman."</p>
+
+<p>"And he comforts himself in his solitude by imagining that she is with
+him," said Joan almost under her breath. "I do pity him more than ever,
+but he seems very sure of her. He has got his house ready for her."</p>
+
+<p>"Everyone firmly believes the husband is dead," said Lady Alicia. "It
+is the doubt in her own mind that makes her wait for him. It is a very
+unfortunate story, and I think you had better keep it to yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"I will," said Joan. "Is she fond of music?"</p>
+
+<p>"She plays the violin most beautifully. It is that which drew them
+together."</p>
+
+<p>Joan said no more, but Major Armitage and the girl he loved, and for
+whom he was waiting, were constantly in her thoughts.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>The day before Lady Alicia left, Banty arrived to see Joan. At first
+she rather seemed to resent Lady Alicia's presence in the room, but
+before very long, her brusque manner left her, and she began confiding
+eagerly in the gentle lady before her.</p>
+
+<p>"It's so beastly dull in frosty weather," she said. "I'm quite glad to
+come down here, and Joan is always cheerful and good tempered. The very
+sight of her does me good."</p>
+
+<p>Joan had been called out of the room for a moment when Banty made this
+remark.</p>
+
+<p>"She's a dear girl," said Lady Alicia warmly. "It is a great talent,
+I consider, to be able thoroughly to enjoy the little comforts in our
+daily life. Joan loves the scent of a flower, the breeze on the moor,
+the sight of a sunset, a fire-lit room, and a hundred other details
+which would escape some people's observation altogether."</p>
+
+<p>"They wouldn't mean much to me," said Banty frankly. "I love sport, you
+know. That comes first with me. The country, with all its scents and
+sights, is only a background. Joan scolded me the other day. I've been
+puzzling over her words. She told me to wake up, and said there was
+a part of me that wanted to be stirred into life. Now I consider I'm
+alive to my finger-tips. I can spot a fox two or three fields off, and
+there isn't much going on out of doors that I don't know about!"</p>
+
+<p>"You must ask Joan one day what she did mean," said Lady Alicia,
+looking at her kindly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think she's one of that preaching lot. I couldn't stand any of
+that. She's too jolly in herself to mean anything canty."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia wisely changed the subject. After Banty had gone, she said
+to Joan:</p>
+
+<p>"There's a girl who needs a helpful woman friend. I am so glad that she
+likes you, and that you have begun to influence her."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know that I have. I tried to say something the other day, but
+she did not respond. Banty is very difficult, Lady Alicia. I feel,
+in talking with her, that unless you're on the subject of sport, you
+might as well be bumping your head against a stone wall for all the
+impression you will make."</p>
+
+<p>"I think you will make way in time. Pray a lot before you speak."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I wish you were going to stay longer," said Joan impulsively.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could. One day you must come and stay with me. I should like
+to take you abroad. But I shall like to look back and remember this
+visit of mine. Your environment is the right one for you, Joan, and I
+am quite content that for the time your literary powers should be in
+abeyance."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>When Lady Alicia had left, Joan felt rather lonely. But the rush and
+bustle of Christmas was upon her, taxing all her powers. And when it
+was over, Mrs. Adair wrote saying that she and Cecil would be coming
+home for a couple of weeks before they went abroad. Those two weeks
+brought a mixture of pleasure and pain to Joan. Cecil was in high
+spirits, and Mrs. Adair much less captious and difficult to please. But
+the rector grew very depressed, and confided to Joan that he did not
+know where the money would come from for all that was needed. And it
+seemed to Joan that every post brought parcels from town with expensive
+gowns and wraps, and odds and ends, from shoes and boots to soap and
+veils and gloves.</p>
+
+<p>She remonstrated with Cecil when she showed her a delicately painted
+chiffon scarf that had cost four guineas.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you forget that Father is a poor man? This will never come out of
+your allowance, and he has already a sheaf of bills which he does not
+know how to pay. It is not honest or right, Cecil. I could not do it if
+I were in your place."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear old strait-laced Joan, your mouth is drawing itself down till
+your lips meet your chin! Do, for pity's sake, mind your own business!
+Bills can wait. It isn't cash on delivery with us. And Father is too
+fussy! He always makes a moan over his poverty—always has! And he is
+not a poor man now. Now just tell me if you think these blue feathers
+match that blue cloth gown of mine. I'm not satisfied with them. I
+think I shall send them back."</p>
+
+<p>Joan curbed her impatience. She shook her head at her.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil continued in a different tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you live in such a hole here that you can have no idea how
+people in society dress nowadays. I'm simply nowhere and nobody—in
+the swim. Why, your old black evening dress was made six years ago,
+now wasn't it? But it does quite well for the frump parties in Old
+Bellerton. Have you been to any more dinner parties? And have you got
+to know the proud scholar and the hermit major?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Joan quietly. "I know them both. Mr. Wilmot Gascoigne is
+still in town. He has been there for some weeks, and Major Armitage
+has just come home. He took the service last Sunday evening and played
+exquisitely."</p>
+
+<p>"Get him to play this next Sunday and come to supper afterwards. I like
+him. He's a mystery."</p>
+
+<p>"He won't do that."</p>
+
+<p>Joan spoke with conviction. She had rather timidly suggested to Major
+Armitage that he should come to dine when her mother returned, and he
+had promptly though courteously refused.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, well," said Cecil, "thank goodness in another week we shall be in
+another clime."</p>
+
+<p>A day or two after this, Joan approached her mother on the subject of
+expense. She dreaded speaking, but her father had asked her to try to
+make her mother understand that it was not meanness on his part, but
+sheer inability to produce what was required. And she knew that her
+father shrank from all altercations about money affairs.</p>
+
+<p>Joan plunged into the subject with heightened colour. She was packing a
+trunk in her mother's bedroom—a trunk of miscellaneous articles which
+was also to contain a good many books.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish Cecil would pack a few more books and a few less gowns," she
+said. "She seems to have no idea of economy in dress."</p>
+
+<p>"She is rather extravagant," said Mrs. Adair. "But I was like it at her
+age; I hope she will require less as time goes on."</p>
+
+<p>"She does not realise how really poor we are, Mother. Do you know
+that Father has overdrawn two hundred pounds from his bank this year
+already? And he has a big bundle of bills all waiting to be paid. I
+don't know what we are to do. I feel I must make money if I can in some
+way; but how to do it in this village is the difficulty!"</p>
+
+<p>After a moment's pause Mrs. Adair replied:</p>
+
+<p>"I think I shall be able to help him more in future. I am thinking of
+writing a book on the Riviera. I have had it formulated in my own mind
+for a long time—not a guide book, but a chatty history of the sunny
+shores of the Mediterranean. And this, in addition to my reason for
+taking Cecil, is why I wish to go abroad this year; I want to locate
+some of my facts. There is nothing that pays so well, or so quickly,
+as writing books. If this one is successful, there will be no money
+difficulties in future. I tell you this in confidence. I do not want it
+talked about until it is accomplished."</p>
+
+<p>"I do hope it will be a success," said Joan warmly. "It is sure to be,
+Mother, if you write as you talk."</p>
+
+<p>This idea of Mrs. Adair's did much to bring comfort and hope to Joan's
+heart. And the last days were, on the whole, pleasant to them all.</p>
+
+<p>On the evening prior to their departure, they gathered round the
+drawing-room fire for a last talk together. Mr. Adair patted his wife's
+hand affectionately as he sat next to her.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall look forward to having you back very soon, Cecilia. When the
+early summer comes you will lose your heart to this place, and, please
+God, we shall have a happy summer together."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair smiled. She was in one of her softest moods that night, and
+Joan was glad afterwards to be able to look back and remember it.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a pity you cannot take a chaplaincy abroad in the winter, then
+we could be together."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! But I could not leave my parish, and I do not think I am cut out
+for that kind of billet. I love my poor folk, and am very happy here. I
+think you would like it, if you would try to settle down. We must hope
+Cecil will grow stronger. She looks very well just now."</p>
+
+<p>"'Her looks never pity her,' as your poor folk say. I wish she could
+outgrow her delicacy."</p>
+
+<p>"We must be thankful we have one daughter who does us credit," said Mr.
+Adair, looking across at Joan with much pride and affection.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil laughed:</p>
+
+<p>"For mercy's sake, don't pit Joan and me one against the other. This
+talk is much too personal: I hope you will pursue the friendship of the
+Major, Joan. I must tell you a very interesting fact. You know what the
+people say of his property, that no heir will be born in it till it
+reverts to its old owners?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I have heard it quite lately."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, at Uncle Robert's we were looking up some of the family
+genealogies one evening, and, lo and behold! We have an ancestress, a
+certain Gertrude Rolleston, who was the only daughter and heiress more
+than a hundred years ago. She married a Lovell, and her cousin came
+in for the property. I can't think why she did not. She seems to have
+dropped out of the running. Now, if you and the Major would only make a
+match of it, the spell of bad luck would be broken, and Rolleston Court
+would be flourishing once more."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be ridiculous, Cecil."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell him you are a direct descendant of the last of the Rollestons and
+see what he says."</p>
+
+<p>"But I think from what I hear," put in the rector, "that the Major's
+affections are engaged elsewhere."</p>
+
+<p>"Then he must promptly break it off and bestow his affections on Joan,"
+said Cecil. "He will if he knows she will bring luck to him again."</p>
+
+<p>"Some people value love more than luck," said Joan lightly. She knew it
+was of no use taking Cecil seriously.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil made a grimace.</p>
+
+<p>"Who thinks of love nowadays! People who go in for it are simply
+cultivating misery for themselves. If there's no love, there's no
+jealousy or grief in separation. It's the greatest mistake in the world
+to let your heart govern your life."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child," said her mother, feeling obliged to remonstrate,
+"don't affect such misanthropy. Be simple and natural, and don't
+pretend you believe what you say."</p>
+
+<p>A slight flush came to Cecil's cheeks. Her mother so seldom reproved
+her that she hardly knew how to take it.</p>
+
+<p>"I should be sorry to be as soft and sentimental as Joan is," she said
+a little scornfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I?" Joan returned good-naturedly. "The other day I was visiting
+an invalid dressmaker in the village who feeds her mind on penny
+novelettes, and when I suggested a different kind of literature she
+said: 'Eh, Miss Adair, 'tis easy to see that you carry no feelin'
+heart, for there be no wrinkles on your brow. You would smile—now
+wouldn't you?—if all your lovers were languishin' and dyin' for
+reciprocation from you. It wouldn't make so much as your eyelashes
+flutter!'"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't conceive how you can let the villagers speak to you so," said
+Cecil, crossly refusing to laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you see what my character is in their eyes."</p>
+
+<p>Conversation then turned on other things. When the sisters separated
+for the night, Joan said affectionately:</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you and I saw more of each other, Cecil. We hardly know each
+other, do we?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Cecil, looking at her half curiously, half wistfully. "You
+are an enigma to me. You seem to feel some things so intensely and
+others not at all. If I had to live your present life, I should die of
+the dumps within six months. I suppose your requirements are fewer than
+mine, and yet Mother tells me, she considers that I haven't half your
+brain."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was silent for a moment, then she said slowly:</p>
+
+<p>"Content can be cultivated, Cecil."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil shrugged her shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"Content would make a beggar live and die in a ditch."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>They went the next morning. Both Joan and her father drove to the
+station to see them off. They were all cheerful up to the last minute;
+but as Joan was driving her father home again in the little jingle, he
+said to her:</p>
+
+<p>"These dreadful partings are a sore trial to me. I feel now as if your
+mother and I will never live together again. It is hoping against hope.
+I never thought they would go away this winter. I did expect that our
+altered circumstances would induce them to stay at home."</p>
+
+<p>"It is the cold, Father, dear. Cecil has been so accustomed to winter
+out of England that she does not seem as if she can endure our cold."</p>
+
+<p>The rector shook his head, and it was days before he could overcome his
+depression. Joan needed all her cheerful spirits to make the wheels go
+round. Even Sophia was cross and grumpy.</p>
+
+<p>"The mistress will repent it one day, when the dear old master be taken
+from her," she said to Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, hush, Sophia! It is not your place to criticise my mother."
+Joan's head was held high as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>Sophia gave a sniff.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis like the rest of the world—'tis most of it mixed wrongly. There
+be women who don't know the value of men, and then there be men who
+make havoc of faithful women's hearts. The single are the blessed of
+the earth, as I tell M'ria. If he only knew it, the Major is courtin'
+disaster when his heart is so full of a wife."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was wise enough to make no reply. She occupied herself more than
+ever in the parish, and in a week or two her father had recovered his
+usual equanimity of mind, and had settled down into his customary
+groove.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_11">CHAPTER XI</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>LITERARY ATTEMPTS</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"JOAN, will you entertain Major Armitage? Our smoke and chat have
+been interrupted, for John Veale has come up to have a talk about the
+bell-ringers."</p>
+
+<p>The rector ushered the Major into the drawing-room as he spoke. Joan
+was sitting by the fire, a big work-basket by her side; she was mending
+house linen with a skilful hand, but her thoughts were far-away. She
+was in a thin blue-grey gown, which became her fairness and intensified
+the deep blue of her eyes. Her thoughtful, abstracted air vanished, her
+smile and dimple appeared, as she rose to greet the guest.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not know you were here," she said. "I have heard voices in the
+study, and concluded it was John Veale, who was expected. I am so glad
+you have been having a chat with Father; he does so enjoy it. But he
+and I generally separate after dinner for an hour. He very often has a
+nap."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope I am not an interruption to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed you are not." Joan sat down and took up her mending again. "I
+can work as well as talk."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't doubt that, but it was interruption of thoughts which I meant."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked up at him and smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"They were unprofitable," she said. "The fact is, I was worrying over
+things, and I am glad to be interrupted."</p>
+
+<p>"And that was what brought me out and down to your organ," said the
+Major; "and after I had quieted myself, I turned in here. The rector
+has good, sound, wholesome views of life. He did me good in five
+minutes."</p>
+
+<p>Joan did not answer for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>The Major looked across at the piano, a semi-grand, belonging to Mrs.
+Adair. "May I play to you what I played in church just now?" he asked
+simply.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, please. I shall like to hear it."</p>
+
+<p>He sat down and played Sullivan's "God shall wipe away all tears from
+their eyes."</p>
+
+<p>His liquid and exquisite touch, the expression and tone which he got
+from the instrument, and the sweet melody itself, brought tears of
+delight to Joan's eyes. She was emotional and impressionable where
+music was concerned, and when the last notes died away, she sat with
+misty eyes gazing into the blazing fire. Then she roused herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't stop," she said. "It is heavenly!"</p>
+
+<p>Major Armitage ran his fingers over the keys and began to improvise.
+From discord to harmony, from unrest to peace—that seemed the burden of
+his theme. He stopped rather abruptly at last, and came and re-seated
+himself by the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Feel better?" he inquired cheerily.</p>
+
+<p>"Ever so much," said Joan. "How well I can understand Saul being
+soothed by music. It lifts one right outside oneself and up into
+infinity. How I wish I had your gift!"</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head in disapproval.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think it has brought me any good. It makes one unfit to mix
+with one's fellow-creatures, and fosters unsociability and the habits
+of a recluse. And I am not the musician I ought to be. I give so much
+time to composing that I leave little time for practising."</p>
+
+<p>"You have published a good deal, have you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Chiefly songs. I want to instil a love for melody into the present
+generation. It is despised nowadays—our grandfathers and grandmothers
+loved it—and it touches the emotions and heart like nothing else."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Joan, thoughtfully; "I know what you mean. One hears so
+much brilliant and hard playing, such good technique, and such weird
+harmonies that music does anything but soothe; it needs all one's brain
+to understand and follow it. And, somehow or other, people are afraid
+of playing anything else. There is so little music in the average home
+now. Girls are not able to attain to the standard put before them, and
+so they refuse to play at all. Even Mozart, Beethoven, and Mendelssohn
+are out of fashion, though they will never lose their charm."</p>
+
+<p>Then she added in an impulsive tone: "That is what I was wishing when
+you came into the room, that I could originate—compose—not music, but
+books. My mother says it pays so well. I am half inclined to try."</p>
+
+<p>"There are a good many in the field," said Major Armitage, doubtfully.
+"Don't turn yourself into a writer, Miss Adair; so many want you
+in your capacity of general adviser and comforter. You will become
+like me, self-absorbed and isolated, and indifferent to your
+fellow-creatures."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, why should I?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. I suppose the creatures of one's brain are dearer to one
+than those of flesh and blood. One lives in imagination, and not in
+fact."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think I could write stories," said Joan; "but I was always
+good at essay writing, and I thought of trying a few articles on
+country life and Nature. I want money badly, Major Armitage, though
+perhaps I should not say so to you. I feel I must try and earn
+something, and it is difficult when one is tied to a country village
+like this."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you tried your hand at poetry?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Joan, slowly; "at least, I suppose I am not an exception to
+most girls. When we are very young, we all try to be poets! But it is
+not my line."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish it were mine," said the Major, with a little sigh. "I get ideas
+at the piano for which I want words. I make a few bungling attempts,
+but I am not cut out for it."</p>
+
+<p>Joan thought of the sweet little poem she had returned, but said not a
+word.</p>
+
+<p>"Try your hand at writing, Miss Adair, if you want to do so. I have a
+great friend. He is editor of 'English Thoughts,' and he is very fond
+of country articles and Nature studies. If you would allow me to submit
+one of your ventures to him, he would say at once whether he could use
+it or not."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid it would be a quick refusal, but you inspire me to try,
+and I should be most grateful for the introduction." Then she added:
+"Of course, I need not say that I want my efforts to be unknown."</p>
+
+<p>"I will respect your confidence, but—" and here a little smile came to
+his lips—"I am not a talker, so I shall not be dangerous in that way."
+Then he said: "I have an invitation to Ireland, and I do not know that
+I ought not to accept it; but I can't leave home for another month, for
+I have work that must be finished. I have a widowed sister, with one
+child, living in the country near Donegal."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, you will go?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I am the only one who can. I have no responsibilities. My other
+brothers are all married men."</p>
+
+<p>They were interrupted in their talk by the rector's entrance, and soon
+afterwards Major Armitage went. But Joan found her thoughts straying
+after him. She was becoming very interested in his affairs, and mused
+upon the strange mixture that was in his composition—the dual nature of
+a dreamy and imaginative musician and a keen soldier.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>The very next day she started her first attempt at literature. Her
+father was so increasingly anxious about ways and means that she felt
+desperate. But she found it extremely difficult to get quiet time
+for writing. It was an impossibility throughout the day as she had
+incessant interruptions. But after dinner, in the evening, when her
+father retired to his study for a nap, she seized her pen and paper,
+and, sitting by the drawing-room fire, tried to produce some of the
+thoughts and impressions of her brain. It was difficult work at first.
+She wrote, and destroyed, revised, and destroyed again; and when,
+eventually, she accomplished a short article, which she entitled, "An
+Autumn Afternoon on our Heath," she was strangely dissatisfied with it.
+She was shy of mentioning it to her father, and the more she read it,
+the less she liked it. At last, plucking up her courage, she sent it
+over to Major Armitage, with the following note:</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"DEAR MAJOR ARMITAGE,—I send you my first attempt. If it is too crude,
+too uninteresting and amateurish, do not send it to your friend. I will
+wait till I can do better. Is it troubling you too much to ask you to
+read it, and act according to your judgment?—Yours sincerely,—<br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 21em;">"JOAN ADAIR."</span><br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>She received an answer in two hours' time:</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"DEAR MISS ADAIR,—Pluck up heart! It is first-rate, and I have
+dispatched it by this evening's post. May it prosper in the hands of
+the editor.—Your sincere friend,—<br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 20em;">"R. ARMITAGE."</span><br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>Joan resigned herself to patient waiting. Meanwhile fortune favoured
+her, for one morning Mrs. Blount, the doctor's wife, arrived to ask
+her advice about a governess for her two little boys. Joan promptly
+proposed herself as teacher, and Mrs. Blount was delighted. She agreed
+to send the children to the rectory every morning from nine to twelve.
+Mr. Adair made no objections, and Joan took the children into the
+dining-room, where they were busy all the morning. It was not liberal
+pay, for the doctor was not a wealthy man, but two pounds per month was
+well worth to Joan the few hours of her time, and she did not grudge
+the extra work thrown upon her shoulders in the afternoon. The boys
+were already devoted to her, and they proved docile and intelligent
+pupils.</p>
+
+<p>One morning Wilmot Gascoigne appeared, and was very much annoyed when
+Sophia told him that Joan was engaged and could not see him. He came
+round again about tea-time, and reproached Joan with having treated him
+so.</p>
+
+<p>She explained, but the frown did not leave his brow.</p>
+
+<p>"What waste of good material! How can you bring yourself to do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I love it. They are dears. Besides, I want the money."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what a curse the—the want of money is! I should be in America now
+if it were not for that reason. And poverty is a shameful incentive to
+talent or genius. It is so degrading—the matter of pounds, shillings
+and pence!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said Joan, impulsively. "Poverty is an incentive to
+me—to attempt! I am trying my hand at writing."</p>
+
+<p>Wilmot smiled and held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Shake hands. I always thought you would be a success in that line. May
+I see the attempt?"</p>
+
+<p>"Major Armitage has it—or, rather, a friend of his has it by this time,
+I hope."</p>
+
+<p>The disgust, as well as astonishment, depicted on Wilmot's face made
+Joan laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"That music crank! Well, I did think, considering our friendship and
+intercourse, that you would have come to me first for advice about a
+literary effort."</p>
+
+<p>"You have been away," faltered Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"Then could you not have written? Is it a case of being out of sight
+out of mind?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan hardly knew what to say.</p>
+
+<p>"The fact is I have too many friends," she said lightly, "and I am
+perfectly certain that this poor attempt of mine is doomed to failure.
+It is just as well that you have had nothing to do with it, Mr.
+Gascoigne."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you any of your writing which you could show me?" Wilmot asked
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"I am such a beginner. I am simply doing it to get money, not from love
+of producing. I don't even know if there is anything inside me that is
+worth producing."</p>
+
+<p>"If there is, and I believe there is," said Wilmot, looking at her
+thoughtfully, "you and I will produce something together. I'll stay
+down here on purpose. It will be worth it."</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't think of working with anyone else," said Joan, quickly.
+"Why, all my ideas would run dry at once!"</p>
+
+<p>"You never know what you can do till you try. You must have a copy of
+what you have sent up. Do prove yourself a friend and show it to me."</p>
+
+<p>Very reluctantly, Joan left the room to get her much corrected and very
+untidy MS. Wilmot frowned impatiently when she had left the room.</p>
+
+<p>"It's always my luck to be too late on the field. Plague take that
+dotty Major! Why on earth does he poach on my preserves! And what a
+Hebe she is! I haven't seen a woman in town who can hold a candle to
+her! She's utterly wasted in this hole. If she is to be a literary
+success—and she has no average woman's intellect—I'm determined that
+mine shall be the hand to lead her to fame, and no other!"</p>
+
+<p>Fate was against Wilmot at present, for Joan entered the room again
+much more hurriedly than she left it.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I am so sorry, but they have sent for me; I shall have to fly.
+Little Johnnie Craddings has scalded himself, and his mother is out for
+the day. Do you care to come down the village with me, or would you
+like a chat with my father?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will come with you, if you are not going to adopt motor speed."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor little Johnnie!" gasped Joan.</p>
+
+<p>She was literally running down the drive, and Wilmot Gascoigne, with a
+face as black as night, was trying to keep pace with her.</p>
+
+<p>He endeavoured to turn the current of her thoughts to literature again,
+but it was hopeless. Johnnie's accident engrossed Joan's mind to the
+exclusion of every other subject.</p>
+
+<p>He accompanied her to the door of the cottage, then took a surly
+farewell of her, and returned to the Hall, feeling furious with Major
+Armitage and with poor Johnnie.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Joan did not see him till a fortnight later, and, meantime, she had
+the joy of hearing that her article was accepted and that others of a
+similar character could be taken.</p>
+
+<p>With her two small pupils and literary work in addition to her usual
+household and village duties, Joan was now more than busy, but she
+enjoyed it all; and when she handed the cheque for her first article
+to her father to help pay some of the numerous bills which were so
+distressing him, it was the happiest hour in her life.</p>
+
+<p>He was at first reluctant to take it. "It is yours, my dear child. Why
+should I rob you of your first earnings?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! But I am earning to help you; and, after all, Dad, dear, the bills
+are as much mine as yours. We cannot separate ourselves from our joint
+expenses."</p>
+
+<p>"They are mostly your mother's debts—and—and Cecil's."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes—well, that is what I mean. You and I are going to try to pay them
+off. They belong to our family."</p>
+
+<p>It was a day or two after this that Joan was invited with her father to
+dine at the Hall. It was not a dinner party; only themselves, another
+neighbouring rector (who was a bachelor), and a General and Mrs.
+Thane. There was a sister of Lady Gascoigne's staying in the house.
+Wilmot took Joan in to dinner, and talked hard about literature as a
+profession the whole time.</p>
+
+<p>"It is the most satisfying life on earth," he said enthusiastically.
+"Singers lose their voices, actresses their charm, when age creeps on;
+but the brain only mellows and ripens, and gains in experience with
+every added year. You are great on influence, Miss Adair. Think of the
+wide-reaching influence of the pen! No other profession can touch it in
+its infinity of power and scope."</p>
+
+<p>Joan felt her heart throb as she caught some of his enthusiasm. She,
+who had longed to impart knowledge and mould character, now had a
+vision of a wide and never-ending stream of influence flowing from her
+pen.</p>
+
+<p>Then he came to more personal details.</p>
+
+<p>"I read your little article, and see much promise in it. You have
+the faculty of seeing with your own eyes, and describing with quaint
+freshness your own impressions; and they are original. We do not want
+platitudes or mediocre writing in these days. There is a lack of style
+and finish which can soon be remedied. If you would allow me to look at
+your next attempt, I could show you in a moment what I mean."</p>
+
+<p>Joan murmured her thanks. She was grateful for the interest which
+Wilmot showed in her first effort and for the encouragement which he
+was giving her.</p>
+
+<p>When dinner was over, and the ladies were in the drawing-room, Banty
+came brusquely up to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, look here, don't you get too thick with Motty, for he has a way
+of preying on likely subjects who minister to his self-love and become
+his willing and devoted slaves. He took up a poor cousin of mine who
+thought she could write poetry. I believe she could have done so if he
+had left her alone, but he altered and clipped her work to suit his
+own ideas, and subjugated her mind to his, till it became a mass of
+confused pulp, and then, when her writing turned to insipid rot, he
+shrugged his shoulders and cast her from him in contempt."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked at Banty in surprise. She had never heard her talk on any
+subject but hunting, and was for a moment silent.</p>
+
+<p>Banty gave a nervous laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I can see through Motty, though he considers me on a level with
+the lower animals. 'A good old cow,' I have heard him call me. But
+cows perhaps notice more than we give them credit for. You're too good
+a sort to be crushed by him. He is mostly gas, you know! And all his
+big talk won't make me believe in him. Now, let us put him out of our
+thoughts. I want another tea amongst the pines with you."</p>
+
+<p>"The weather is too wet at present, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know. I think under the trees we shan't feel it. But I
+expect you're not quite so weather-proof as I am. I'll come round to
+you. Will you be in the day after to-morrow? I'm not hunting, so I'll
+look in about four."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. I shall expect you then."</p>
+
+<p>"And now you must talk to Aunt Hetty. Ask her to play. She rather
+fancies herself as a musician. Motty says it's like a cat scrambling
+over the keys; but she attends every concert going in town, and is up
+in all the musical jargon of the day."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was then introduced to Miss Parracombe, who was a tall and angular
+lady, with a very large nose and a small chin.</p>
+
+<p>"I hear you play the organ in church?" she began at once. "I hope it is
+from choice, and not from duty, that you do it. It's a sad pity this
+is such an unmusical house. I feel like a fish out of water. I was
+hoping to meet a Major Armitage. Do you know him? They tell me he shuts
+himself up in the country. But I know friends of his in town, and, as
+a composer of a certain style, he is well-known. I asked my sister
+to have him to dinner. She says he always refuses to dine out. But I
+can quite understand that he finds no kindred soul in this house, and
+does not want to spend the precious hours of his time in uncongenial
+society. I find it a trial myself. This perpetual talk of hunting and
+sport bores me to death. Will you play to us, Miss Adair? I am sure you
+are musical."</p>
+
+<p>Joan shook her head, but asked Miss Parracombe if she would play
+herself, and she went to the piano with much alacrity. She began a
+fugue of Bach's, which she certainly played correctly, though without
+an atom of expression. Joan listened with interest. She had expected
+the old lady to play some of the old-fashioned "fireworks" of her young
+days.</p>
+
+<p>Banty yawned, and Lady Gascoigne exchanged whispered remarks with Mrs.
+Thane. It was a relief to all when the gentlemen came into the room,
+and very soon afterwards Mr. Adair and Joan took their departure.
+Wilmot accompanied them into the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you be in on Friday afternoon?" he asked Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Banty is coming to tea. Do come with her."</p>
+
+<p>"Dash her!" he muttered. "The next day, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I am engaged. Father and I are going over to a
+neighbouring rectory to tea."</p>
+
+<p>"When will you be disengaged?"</p>
+
+<p>His voice was coldly quiet.</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked up at him and laughed. "I'm a very busy person!"</p>
+
+<p>"So I gather. I'll drop in on Saturday evening, after dinner. I shall
+be in town to-morrow for a night. I must see you soon. I want a talk
+with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. I shall be at home."</p>
+
+<p>Joan and her father drove home in their little jingle. They could not
+afford the village fly, for Joan was economising in every direction.
+She was silent for some minutes; then she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Do you like Mr. Gascoigne, Dad? Do you think him a reliable man? I
+always think you're a judge of character."</p>
+
+<p>"He does not appeal to me," said Mr. Adair, promptly. "He is a man who
+can only talk shop, and if anyone is not interested in his tastes, he
+will not trouble to make himself pleasant to them. Naturally, I prefer
+Major Armitage's society, for I know nothing of literature, especially
+of the literature that Wilmot Gascoigne likes to talk about. With
+Armitage I am at home. He doesn't discuss music, but village topics and
+politics—anything which he knows interests me."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Joan, slowly. "I suppose Mr. Gascoigne is one-sided; but
+it is difficult to suppress the fullness of one's heart. He is so
+enthusiastic! Perhaps he may be selfish and intolerant; Banty thinks he
+is. But he carries me away when once he begins to talk."</p>
+
+<p>She wondered, as she lay awake that night reviewing the evening that
+was past, whether he would, as Banty said, seek to subjugate her mind
+to his, and fetter and clip her originality.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_12">CHAPTER XII</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>TROUBLE AT ROLLESTON COURT</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>BANTY arrived on Friday afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>"My aunt has been putting her foot in it," she informed Joan. "Would
+you believe it, she forced her way into Rolleston Court yesterday
+afternoon? She went out for a constitutional, and a shower of rain came
+on. She was told that the Major was engaged.</p>
+
+<p>"'Oh, never mind, I am sure he won't object to my taking shelter for a
+short time,' she said, and in she went.</p>
+
+<p>"His housekeeper took her into the drawing-room and entertained her for
+about half an hour. She gave her tea, and though it was getting dusk,
+Aunt Hetty wouldn't budge. She talked away to the housekeeper, and I
+expect made her giddy with her talk. I know she does me! Then she heard
+the sounds of music upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, 'tis the Major playing in the music-room,' she was told. Then
+she got up, and I can fancy her excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"'I am a musician myself—a fellow artiste. We are kindred spirits. I
+must hear him. He will not mind.' She stole upstairs, and listened
+outside the door at first, then boldly opened it and crept in behind
+a screen. His music was so exquisite, she told us, that she forgot
+herself and clapped her hands loudly. She said he sang a perfectly
+lovely little song about some invisible lady love, and it was that
+which bowled her over. In an instant he appeared; and she says his eyes
+flashed fire and he was white with rage. He took her by the arm and
+marched her downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>"'If a man cannot have privacy in his own house,' he spit out, 'where
+can he have it? I don't know who you are, nor do I care; but this is an
+unwarrantable intrusion!'</p>
+
+<p>"She tried to explain who she was, but he firmly and quietly ejected
+her, and she came home boiling and spluttering with rage.</p>
+
+<p>"I left her writing a long letter of explanation to him this afternoon.
+She seems to think her appreciation of his music is sufficient excuse
+for an impertinence on her part. What awful tempers these writers and
+musicians have! It's the artistic temperament, isn't it? That's what
+they call it. I must say I'm thankful not to possess it. It takes a
+good bit to rouse my ire; but Motty is awful to live with, and they're
+all so restless and excitable. Of course, I don't know much of Major
+Armitage, but he's queer. I expect my aunt will come down and victimise
+you pretty soon. She wants to get up a village concert. Do put her off
+it if you can. I'm morally certain Major Armitage won't appear at it,
+and you and she will have to do the whole of it."</p>
+
+<p>Banty paused for breath.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry for poor Major Armitage," said Joan feelingly. "Maria told
+Sophia that he is most tenacious over his privacy. When Dad was ill in
+his house, I never saw the inside of that music-room. It is his sanctum
+in every sense of the word."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, don't let us talk any more about him. I'm amused at Aunt Hetty's
+set-back. Let's talk about ourselves. Only first of all, I wish you'd
+tell me why you've turned yourself into a governess. Is it from sheer
+love of teaching?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; want of money," said Joan frankly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry. Don't think me a meddler, but isn't this a fairly good
+living? I'm sure nobody could accuse you of extravagant living."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope not," Joan said with her happy laugh. "But we had heavy
+expenses before we came here."</p>
+
+<p>"How is your sister Cecil?" Banty asked abruptly. "I always think she
+ought to make a good marriage; she is just the sort that men admire.
+I think a girl who hunts hasn't the same chances as one of these
+feminine, alluring girls who give men such copious admiration. We
+become good chums with men, but no more. Only a few care for open-air
+wives—you know what I mean. You'll think I'm always talking about
+marriage, but I feel sore. I thought it well out and have sent Mr.
+Nugent about his business. I came to the conclusion I couldn't run in
+harness with him. I should jib! Yesterday I heard he is just engaged
+to Molly Lambert. She lives in the next county. So much for deep
+attachment! I expect he only wants a housekeeper, and in that case,
+Molly will suit him better than I, for she has managed her father's
+house since she was twelve years old. But he didn't lose much time, did
+he? And Mother is quietly furious. Do you think I have a miserable time
+ahead of me if I remain single?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not; but—"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; give me your 'buts.' I loved your little preach some time ago. I
+think you almost made my soul—as you call it—flutter, for, do you know,
+I'm beginning to believe I have one."</p>
+
+<p>"I can only repeat what I said before, that there is one side of us—and
+the only side that can bring us lasting happiness—which needs to be
+cultivated."</p>
+
+<p>"The religious side, I suppose you mean? If church doesn't cultivate
+it, what will? And I'm a most regular attendant at church, let me tell
+you. But it has never made the least difference to me."</p>
+
+<p>"You want to be in touch with God Himself," said Joan softly.</p>
+
+<p>Banty leant back in her chair and stared at her perfectly
+uncomprehendingly.</p>
+
+<p>"That wouldn't make 'me' happy," she said with conviction, "quite the
+reverse. Now I'll be quite honest with you. There's nothing in me that
+responds in the least bit to religion. I don't see the need for it. I
+don't want to live my life up in the clouds. This world is good enough
+for me."</p>
+
+<p>There was silence. Banty frowned, then said:</p>
+
+<p>"I've got enough, thanks, for to-day."</p>
+
+<p>Joan smiled, then laid her hand caressingly on her arm.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall end by getting very fond of you, Banty."</p>
+
+<p>The colour actually deepened in Banty's cheek.</p>
+
+<p>"Same with me," she said a little gruffly.</p>
+
+<p>They talked of other things then, and when Mr. Adair came in, Banty
+lapsed into her usual abrupt and rather dull style of talk. Before she
+went, she said to Joan, in the hall:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm getting interested in you. I'm planning out your future."</p>
+
+<p>"As you wish it to be, or as you think it will be?"</p>
+
+<p>"As I wish it. I mean to frustrate one possible future for you if I
+can."</p>
+
+<p>She gave her a nod, and went without another word.</p>
+
+<p>Joan gazed after her with a smile and a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"There are depths in her after all. What bunglers we are!"</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Wilmot Gascoigne did not forget to appear on Saturday night. He sat
+over the fire with Joan and fascinated her with his talk. Just before
+he left, he said:</p>
+
+<p>"I have left the main object of my visit till now. I feel that you and
+I have the same intuition about certain phases of life. For a long
+time I have been anxious to write a book which will do more than amuse
+the public—that kind of novel has a run for a year, then disappears
+as quickly as it came. I want to write for futurity. Now, my theory
+is that a woman writer can never write naturally and effectively
+about a man in all his various stages, nor can a man gauge a woman's
+fluctuating moods correctly, for each can only judge of the minds of
+the opposite sex by what they see and hear, never from the fount of
+their own experience. I want to instruct and to awaken the dormant
+intellects of my readers. To do this, the book must be strong; it
+must have no weak points; it must not flag in interest; it must
+stimulate the curiosity, and, in short, I need a woman collaborator.
+Now, will you be that woman? Down in this quiet hole, we shall have
+plenty of time and opportunity for discussion and suggestions. I have
+already simmering in my mind a dozen plots. I want a woman's delicate
+intuition, her feminine instinct, to help me in evolving a creation
+of what a woman should be in our present generation. I don't want to
+create one of the shrieking sisterhood—a mockery of all that is truly
+feminine and uplifting—nor do I want a flimsy, insipid Early Victorian
+doll. I know you are the one woman in the world who can help me at this
+juncture—will you do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is rather a startling proposition," said Joan, with a long-drawn
+breath. "I suppose I ought to feel flattered. I do. I thank you for
+thinking of me. Writing is so new to me that I feel like a duckling on
+the edge of a pond trying for the first time the element of water. But
+I am afraid I shall have no time. I can hardly get through my days as
+it is. And how about you? Are you nearly through your Chronicles? Won't
+they have to be finished first?"</p>
+
+<p>Wilmot gave a little snort.</p>
+
+<p>"They'll never be finished," he said. "I'm already bored to tears with
+them. There's nothing in the dull, monotonous lives of the Gascoignes
+to make the book live. It will be a series of births, marriages, and
+deaths, and of dates. I would like to make a bonfire of the whole."</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you finish them up?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I'm always hoping to rake out something racy from the piles
+of dusty manuscripts and letters I have given to me. They won't let
+me invent. It would be easy sailing then. I tell you the Gascoigne
+Chronicles are dulling my powers and fettering my genius. You can't
+live for ever on dry bread. I want to sandwich my book in; it will be
+jam and butter to me!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan laughed. She felt strangely stirred. Wilmot's society was
+delightful to her. He talked of books and of subjects of which she had
+heard and talked at college. He had theories on every fact of life, and
+opened vistas of new thought and conjecture to her. She longed to throw
+herself heart and soul into this project of collaboration with him, but
+she felt, under her circumstances, that it would prove too engrossing
+an occupation.</p>
+
+<p>"You must give me time to think about it," she said. "I will give you
+an answer in a few days, but I doubt if I could really help you."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not allow you to refuse me," he said, with one of the smiles
+that always transfigured his face.</p>
+
+<p>But when he had gone Banty's words recurred to her: "He has a way of
+preying on likely subjects who minister to his self-love and become his
+willing and devoted slaves."</p>
+
+<p>They made her feel a little uncomfortable, and then she resolutely put
+them from her.</p>
+
+<p>"Banty and he are at daggers drawn. She is unfair to him. I will not
+believe that she is right in such a statement."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Sunday came. It was a busy and a happy day with Joan. She loved her
+Sunday scholars, she loved her choir, and the music she produced from
+the sweet little organ. The services were always a rest and refreshment
+to her. Major Armitage came into the rectory after evening church and
+stayed to supper.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you have heard of my iniquities?" he said to Joan. "I expect
+the Hall will be cuts with me now."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I think they must all have felt that Miss Parracombe was to blame."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! You have heard about it, then? I lost my temper and manners, and
+showed her the door. But I have always believed that an Englishman's
+house is his castle. They say I have a bee in my bonnet. I will
+entertain ladies one day—at least, that is my hope—but never until I
+have one of their sex to help me do it."</p>
+
+<p>The shadow fell upon his face.</p>
+
+<p>Joan was silent for a minute; then she said gently:</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Parracombe is a musician; she longs to meet you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I know; and I don't like musicians, Miss Adair. Isn't that a
+bad confession? I have suffered from them in town, and I cannot take
+part in their ready jargon. It is the clash of sounding brass to me; I
+would rather shut my ears to it. Don't you think we all talk too much?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said Joan a little wistfully. "I learn a good deal from
+other people's talk; and is not exchange of ideas always good?"</p>
+
+<p>The hard, set lines about his face disappeared. He smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"I like to talk to you," he said simply. "Well, Miss Parracombe has
+sent me a voluminous explanation and apology, and I a very short and
+curt one. She insisted upon shaking hands with me after church this
+morning, and I have again been invited to the Hall—to lunch, to tea,
+or to dinner. I have declined politely, and that is where we stand at
+present. How is the writing getting on?"</p>
+
+<p>"I want to see myself in print," said Joan, laughing and colouring.
+"When do you think my article will appear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Any time between this and next Christmas, I should say. Have you been
+paid for it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you'll see it soon."</p>
+
+<p>"I have written a few more on the same lines, and two have been
+accepted, one returned. The editor tells me not to go ahead too fast."</p>
+
+<p>"Why does he return one?"</p>
+
+<p>"He said it had too much of a religious element in it."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's face was very grave as she spoke; then she turned towards him
+and her gaze was sweet and earnest.</p>
+
+<p>"Major Armitage, if I cannot write about what is breath and life to me,
+I will not write at all."</p>
+
+<p>"What is your object in writing?" he asked slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"To make money, I am afraid."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you must be guided by the taste of the public and the advice of
+your editor."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's brows were furrowed with deep thought.</p>
+
+<p>"I hear you sing in church," said Major Armitage; "will you sing to me
+now?"</p>
+
+<p>She was rather glad to have a change of subject.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't much of a voice," she said, "but I will do my best."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you sing 'O rest in the Lord.' I will play for you."</p>
+
+<p>They went to the piano.</p>
+
+<p>Joan's voice was true and very sweet; it had a pathetic ring in it
+which often brought tears to the eyes of those who heard her. The Major
+drew a long sigh when he had struck the last chord. Mr. Adair, who was
+always very tired on Sunday night, and who had been napping in his
+arm-chair whilst the talk had been going on, now roused himself to say:</p>
+
+<p>"That is beautiful, my dear Joan. Will you sing the evening hymn
+now?—'Abide with me.'"</p>
+
+<p>Major Armitage knew at once which setting it was, and ran his fingers
+over the keys.</p>
+
+<p>When she had finished, he rose from his seat and held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I want that to be the last thing I hear," he said, smiling at her. "It
+will ring in my head as I walk home."</p>
+
+<p>When he had gone, Joan sat down by the fire and relapsed into deep
+thought. If her voice was still in his ears, so was his in hers. "You
+must be guided by the taste of the public if you wish to make money."</p>
+
+<p>"What do I wish?" she said to herself. "If I can write, how awfully
+responsible I am for what I write. I could make money, I suppose, in
+lots of ways that would be neither honourable nor consistent with my
+principles. Shall I throw my principles to the winds for the sake of
+money? I cannot. And yet, when I think of lifting the strain from
+Father's shoulders, of easing him of this dreadful wearing anxiety, I
+feel as if I must throw everything to the winds and do it."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>A few days after this, Sophia called Joan into the kitchen in a
+mysterious way. It was six o'clock, and Joan at first thought that
+something had gone wrong with their simple dinner. But Sophia pulled
+the low arm-chair out for Joan to sit upon, and she knew then that a
+talk was forthcoming.</p>
+
+<p>"You want a gossip, Sophia, I know you do; but it's a funny time to
+choose."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Joan, I never neglect my work. The steak pie is in the oven, and
+my pudding is in the steamer. My vegetables are ready to pop into the
+saucepans. I've sent Jenny upstairs to make herself tidy. There never
+was such a tousled, fuzzy head as hers in all the world before. M'ria
+has been to tea with me. She's in a sad way, M'ria is, for she says a
+body must get attached to the Major, with all his cranks. I told her he
+was here on the Sunday night, and he went off with such a cheery word
+to me as I held open the door!</p>
+
+<p>"'Good-night,' he said; 'this house always seems like the gate of
+Heaven to me. The atmosphere and harmony and music to-night have put
+fresh life and hope into me.' Now, those were his very words—his very
+last words."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Sophia," cried Joan in a startled voice, "what has happened? Has
+Maria brought you bad news of her master?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very bad, Miss Joan. Now, listen. Yesterday, at four o'clock, the
+second post came in. M'ria generally takes the letters and puts them on
+the table in the smoking-room. The Major sees them there directly he
+comes in. As it happened, yesterday he hadn't gone out; he was writing
+business letters. M'ria knows it was business, for he called her to
+ask about some new kind of lamps they had had down from town for the
+kitchens, and he told her he was going to pay for them."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Sophia, do get on. I don't care to know about the Major's
+business."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, don't you fluster me. Of course, as I said to M'ria, it's just
+a sign of the modern times, when folks write bad news without taking
+the trouble to put it into a becoming black-edged envelope. They won't
+reckernise affliction; 'tis just that; they won't pay respect to the
+dead, because it makes them feel bad; and tears and becoming grief and
+seclusion is all things of the past. Even widows—"</p>
+
+<p>"Sophia, you're doing it on purpose! Leave the widows alone and get on
+with your story."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Miss Joan, M'ria she handed the letters to the Major without a
+thought, and then, as the curtains weren't drawn, she went across to
+the windows and occupied herself with them; and she threw, so to speak,
+a look over her shoulder, for she heard him draw a very heavy breath.
+M'ria says she never saw a living man before turn into stone. His face
+was white and blue and fixed. He held a letter and gazed at the air as
+if—well, M'ria says it came to her in a flash that Lot's wife must have
+looked like it when she was turned into salt. She was so scared, M'ria
+was, that she crept out of the room and left him standing there. She
+daren't go near him; but she heard him go straight upstairs and lock
+himself up in the music-room.</p>
+
+<p>"When dinner-time came he didn't come out, and then M'ria got nervous
+and went to the door and knocked. You do hear of such dreadful things,
+Miss Joan, and, of course, she was fearing the very worst. But he
+answered her quick and sharp:</p>
+
+<p>"'I want no dinner, and no disturbance,' he said, or words similar.</p>
+
+<p>"M'ria goes away, and she said her knees were trembling all the
+evening. The house was silent as a grave. And then, about ten o'clock,
+when the other maids had gone off to bed, to M'ria's great relief she
+heard the piano playing in the music-room. She slipped upstairs to
+listen, for she hoped now he'd got to his music he'd be feeling better;
+and she was keeping a basin of soup hot against the time when he came
+out. And what do you think he was playing, Miss Joan? M'ria said in the
+empty, silent house it gave her the curdles all over. Nothing but that
+awful rumbling funeral march for the dead!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan could say nothing. She only gazed at Sophia in silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, M'ria waited, all of a shiver, for him to stop; and when he
+stopped there was silence, and still M'ria waited. And then at last,
+the Major came out, and he walked straight for the stairs. Then she
+made bold to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"'Please, sir,' she began, but he stopped her with a little wave of his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"'Don't speak to me,' he said; 'I've been burying my dead.'</p>
+
+<p>"With that, he goes straight up the stairs and locks himself in his
+room, and M'ria said she was so overcome with tears, she just had to go
+back to the kitchen and drink up the hot soup herself."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was too miserable to smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Major Armitage! I hope no very near relation has died."</p>
+
+<p>Sophia shook her head gloomily and mysteriously. "There's no mistake,
+Miss Joan, in who it was. This morning, M'ria says, he's pulled down
+the blinds of the boudoir and locked and bolted the door, and told
+M'ria that nobody is ever to go near that room again. M'ria says he's
+like a tomb, stony and dead like. It's his lady which is dead, sure
+enough. In fact, he kind of apologised for wasting a good dinner last
+night. He said to M'ria:</p>
+
+<p>"'I had had bad news, and I couldn't eat.'</p>
+
+<p>"Then M'ria asked, gentle like, if the household were to be in
+mourning; and he looked at her as if he didn't understand her meaning.
+But his look so awed her that she daren't say one word more, and that's
+how it stands with him. I thought you'd be interested. I feel full up
+of it myself."</p>
+
+<p>"But Maria and you will keep this to yourselves?" said Joan, almost
+imploringly. "You won't let the village gossip over it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Joan, M'ria and me know our duty towards them we serves," said
+Sophia loftily.</p>
+
+<p>And then Joan slipped quietly away.</p>
+
+<p>Her heart ached for the lonely man; she almost felt as if his grief
+were hers.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_13">CHAPTER XIII</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>A FATEFUL TELEGRAM</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"YOU cannot walk so far."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I can. It is only four miles there. I shall rest when I get
+there, and have my lunch and walk back. It is nothing for a strong and
+hearty female like myself."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope Toby is not really ill?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; it's only a slight swelling on his hock. He is being bandaged, and
+only wants a few days' rest. Don't worry, dear. I must see this woman.
+I have promised her husband I will, and if I cannot drive, I must walk.
+It's a lovely afternoon. I shall enjoy it."</p>
+
+<p>Joan and her father were talking together at lunch. She was taking
+advantage of a birthday holiday given to her small pupils to go to see
+one of the parishioners who had been taken to the infirmary in the
+neighbouring market town; and owing to the indisposition of the pony
+she could not use the little jingle.</p>
+
+<p>"You could hire a trap from the inn," her father suggested.</p>
+
+<p>Joan shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"That would be reckless expense. Have your tea, for I shall be late, as
+I have a good deal of shopping to get through; but I am perfectly equal
+to the walk."</p>
+
+<p>She started in good spirits, taking Bob, her little terrier, with
+her. Spring was in the air; there was blue sky and bright sun shining
+overhead. She crossed the heath, and the fresh, pungent scent of the
+pines and peat refreshed and delighted her. Joan often said she could
+walk her worries away, and to-day was no exception to the rule. She did
+not feel tired when she arrived in Coppleton. She saw the sick woman,
+did her shopping, and had her lunch at a small confectioner's.</p>
+
+<p>Then, at three o'clock, she started homewards. The blue sky was gone
+now, and heavy black clouds were rolling up. Joan began to wish she had
+brought an umbrella. Before she had gone a mile from the town, rain
+descended in torrents. It was a lonely road, and there was no shelter
+of any sort near. She buttoned her coat up to her chin and pressed
+steadily on; but wind and rain beat her back, and she began to feel
+quite exhausted. Suddenly she heard quick-trotting hoofs behind her,
+and a high dog-cart overtook her. She glanced up and saw it was Major
+Armitage. He did not seem to see her; his face was stern and set, and
+he was about to pass her, when in desperation she called to him. He
+pulled up at once.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! It's you, Miss Adair, what are you doing out in this storm so far
+from home? I can offer you a seat, but not an umbrella, I'm afraid."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you. I shall be delighted to get a lift."</p>
+
+<p>She climbed in and told him where she had been. She had not seen him
+since Sophia had told her what had happened, and as she glanced up at
+him she saw a great change in his face. The dreamy wistfulness had
+departed; his profile might have been carved in granite, so stern and
+immovable it was.</p>
+
+<p>He was very silent, and so was she, for a few minutes. Then she said:</p>
+
+<p>"You promised to play at our evening service last Sunday, but as you
+did not turn up, I suppose something prevented your doing so?"</p>
+
+<p>He looked down at her quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not know I had. My promise must have been made in another life.
+I seem in a new era now. I'm sorry if I inconvenienced you; but the
+fact is I cancelled all my engagements. I—I have been through a—a good
+deal since I saw you last."</p>
+
+<p>"I am so sorry. I am afraid you have been in trouble."</p>
+
+<p>There was another silence. Then he gave a short laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"My house has asserted itself. I was a fool to think I could break the
+long chain of ill-luck. I am thinking of shutting it up and going over
+to Ireland."</p>
+
+<p>"So soon? We shall be sorry to lose you."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't that I run away from it," he went on slowly; "but it will
+never fulfil its purpose to me now, and so it is useless to me."</p>
+
+<p>"But your tenants will miss you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, they will not; my bailiff will look after them."</p>
+
+<p>Joan hardly knew what to say.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been living at the gate of paradise," he continued, "expecting
+and glorying in the hope that it would soon be opened to me. I have
+been shown that it will always remain bolted and barred to me. I
+have been wasting my life, my time and thoughts, Miss Adair, over an
+illusion. Yet some words you uttered once have continually come to
+my mind: 'He performeth the thing that is appointed for me.' Do you
+believe it?"</p>
+
+<p>"In my own experience I try to do so," said Joan thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>Major Armitage said no more for some time. The rain and wind beat in
+their faces and made conversation difficult. But when they came into
+Old Bellerton village, Joan spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"I am very grateful to you for driving me home, and, if I may say so,
+still more for what you have told me. I am sure none of us ought to
+believe in ill-luck, and you are strong enough to rise above it."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I am not," said Major Armitage; "but I suppose I can live doggedly
+on. Do you know Dr. Sewell's couplet?</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<br>
+"'When all the blandishments of life are gone,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The coward sneaks to death; the brave live on.'"<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>Joan's eyes brightened.</p>
+
+<p>"I like that. And life is a wonderful thing, is it not? Our own lives
+are so small compared with many others; it is the lives of those around
+us that really matter, and what we can be to them."</p>
+
+<p>"You think we ought to be entirely detached from ourselves? That would
+make us mere mechanical machines."</p>
+
+<p>She was silent. Then, as he reached the rectory gate, he pulled up his
+horse and held out his hand to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night, Miss Adair. You have done me good, and I promise to play
+for you next Sunday evening. I shan't be leaving just yet. But I tell
+you in confidence that my house now is an utter despair to me!"</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him when she was turning in at the gate. Her eyes were
+shining.</p>
+
+<p>"'He performeth the thing that is appointed for me,'" she repeated with
+emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>And then the Major drove off and she went in to change her wet clothes,
+and to think much of the blow that had befallen her friend.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Before the following Sunday came round, she had a great many other
+matters that demanded all her time and attention. Wilmot Gascoigne had
+cajoled her into co-operating with him over his book, and she found it
+extremely difficult to give up the necessary time to it. She finally
+arranged that upon every day on which he could come over, they should
+work together between tea and dinner. Very often he asked if he might
+stay to dinner, so as to continue the work immediately afterwards, and
+not "break the thread" of their thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>Joan was so carried away with his enthusiasm, with his flow of ideas,
+with his many problems needing deep discussion, that for some days
+she was merely a listener, offering a few feeble and inadequate
+suggestions; but as time went on she began to criticise, protest, and
+utterly disagree with Wilmot's plot and principles. To her, his moral
+instincts seemed warped; his conceptions of right and wrong confusing
+and shadowy. But he had the gift of eloquent persuasion, and often
+stopped her objections with a torrent of clever talk. Then he would
+listen to her alternative course of reasoning, sometimes apparently
+falling in with her views, but never eventually swerving from his point.</p>
+
+<p>She, on her part, gave him fresh ideas and thoughts, which he seized
+with approval. But after a very few days of talking and working with
+him, Joan had to acknowledge to herself that it was most fatiguing and
+unsatisfactory. In addition to this, her father's affairs seemed more
+and more involved. Letters came from his wife and daughter with demands
+for money, which was simply not forthcoming. Every penny that could
+be scraped together was sent out to them; but it was not sufficient,
+and Mrs. Adair could not, or would not, understand her husband's
+difficulties. Joan and her father grew to dread the sight of a foreign
+letter lying on the breakfast-table.</p>
+
+<p>Joan at last quietly went into Coppleton and parted with an old
+necklace of amethysts which had been given to her some years before by
+Lady Alicia. But the task of cheering her father, teaching her small
+pupils, working in the parish, helping in household duties, and trying
+to keep her head and brains clear and bright for Wilmot's hours, proved
+almost too much for her, and she found it quite impossible to continue
+her own writing. She had neither the time nor the ideas. She told
+Wilmot once that she had been forced to stop writing. He did not seem
+much impressed.</p>
+
+<p>"Those short articles don't pay well, do they? And I want you to do
+better work. You will. This book of ours is going to be a success. I
+feel it is. We have got the right atmosphere, but it needs all our
+concentration and purpose. We will put our best and strongest into it.
+We must."</p>
+
+<p>So Joan braced herself afresh, but she felt strangely exhausted at
+night; and could not feel assured that her help was as much as Wilmot
+seemed to require and demand.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>On Sunday evening Major Armitage played the organ, and came into supper
+at the rectory afterwards. Joan thought him looking worn and ill, and
+there were grim fixed lines about his face that used not to be there.
+He seemed very distrait, as if conversation were an effort. Only once
+he roused himself, and that was when he asked Joan to sing some of her
+sacred songs. Mr. Adair remarked when he left that he must be in some
+kind of trouble.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, they say in the village he has lost someone dear to him. Do
+you know anything about it, Joan? He has not gone into mourning."</p>
+
+<p>"Men don't," said Joan briefly.</p>
+
+<p>"They usually wear a black tie, not a coloured one."</p>
+
+<p>"We won't trouble about the village gossip, Father dear. If he had
+wanted us to know, he would have told us."</p>
+
+<p>But the very next day, Joan wrote to Lady Alicia asking her if she
+could tell her whether Irene Denbury was dead.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia wrote promptly back.</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"MY DEAREST JOAN,—So you have not heard the news! Frank Denbury turned
+up after all these years perfectly safe and sound. It is like a book.
+I hear he is much improved; but he was wounded and ill, and tied by
+the leg in some out-of-the-way place, and his letters never reached
+home. You must forget the story I told you. Bury it deep. But how wise
+and right Irene was to wait! What disaster she would have brought upon
+herself if she had not. She goes out with him to America the end of
+this month. She seems as if she wants to get away from England, and I
+think it will be best for her. I am so interested in hearing about your
+writing, dear, but don't forget that it is a trust and talent given to
+you to develop and to use for eternity. I have heard from your mother.
+She seems very happy and well. Much love,—<br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">"Yours lovingly,</span><br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 17em;">"ALICIA.</span><br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"P.S.—Frank Denbury has quietly been adding to his fortune. I fancy his
+wife might have been in the way; and, of course, he had no idea that
+she thought him dead. But I consider him much to blame for his long
+silence. It was not fair to any girl."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>Joan pondered long and deeply over this letter. She felt unreasonably
+angry with Irene for having inspired Major Armitage with such love and
+hope.</p>
+
+<p>"If she really loves him, how can she go off with her husband so easily
+and happily? I couldn't have done it. And yet I suppose religion and
+convention would say it was her duty to do so. She will most likely
+settle down very comfortably with her husband, and forget the man who
+is suffering tortures at present, and will never get over the blow."</p>
+
+<p>She pictured him in his music-room playing the "Dead March" and burying
+deep for ever in the grave of his heart his first and only love.</p>
+
+<p>"A man of that age and temperament will never get over it," she said
+to herself. "I wonder if he has enough religion to keep him sweet and
+tender! His music is still his solace. I'm glad to think it is, for no
+musician can get bitter and hard."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia's letter gave her food for thought, and doubts again
+assailed her as to whether Wilmot's book was a suitable one for her
+to help to produce. When next he and she were working together he
+propounded a certain situation from which her soul shrank.</p>
+
+<p>"No, that is blasphemous," she said hastily. "I will not be a party to
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear girl, don't be a prude. What is blasphemy? We must move with
+the times, and we are not invoking the Deity in any way, or infringing
+upon His prerogative."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked at him with grave, sweet eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Gascoigne, you and I can never work together. I see this more and
+more. It was a mistake our making the attempt."</p>
+
+<p>"I have frightened you. We will leave this situation. I will work it
+in so that it cannot possibly offend your principles. My dear partner,
+we have gone along too far to dissolve our partnership. Now take these
+sheets, and make a statement of our heroine's thoughts on this fatal
+night. Put your soul into it, and let your words scorch and burn. Be
+strong. Put yourself in her place, and write your thoughts as they
+would have been in her circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>Joan gave a little sigh, but set to work; and the interest of her theme
+took hold of and engrossed her. Afterwards, when Wilmot was taking his
+leave, she strove to speak again.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't agree with so much that you write. We shall never see things
+from the same standpoint. Don't you think you would get on quite as
+well without me?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I am not going to release you. Do you think I would take the
+trouble to come out all weathers and spend the best part of my day down
+here if I did not mean business? And think of the chance you would
+miss. Fame is in this book—I feel it—and money, and you and I will be
+partners in it."</p>
+
+<p>It was always the way. He would not take her objections seriously, and
+Joan's conscience was uneasy and troubled in consequence.</p>
+
+<p>Banty could not understand the situation. She remonstrated with Joan
+one afternoon when she called.</p>
+
+<p>"I warned you of Motty. He has got hold of you, and will suck your
+blood to nourish himself. Don't look shocked! I mean it. He has done it
+with other women, and he thinks you very promising material."</p>
+
+<p>Joan would not listen to her; but in her heart she sometimes longed
+that she had never given him her promise to help him.</p>
+
+<p>And then one day it was all stopped—for the time.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"A letter from Cecil," said Joan in the morning, as she poured out a
+cup of tea for her father at the breakfast-table. "I have not read it
+yet. I hope it is not for more money. She wrote to me only a few days
+ago."</p>
+
+<p>"It is to tell us when they are coming home, perhaps," said Mr. Adair
+cheerfully. "I am setting my hopes on having your mother here for
+Easter, Joan."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Father dear, it wants only a fortnight to Easter, and they have
+not talked of a move yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Read her letter and see."</p>
+
+<p>So Joan in a leisurely way opened the envelope, and the next minute
+looked up with startled eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Father dear, Mother is not at all well. She has caught a bad chill and
+has an attack of pneumonia. Cecil is quite anxious and has called in a
+nurse."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair started to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see what she says. Cecilia ill? I must go to her."</p>
+
+<p>Joan put the letter into his hand, and gazed out of the window with
+troubled eyes. Riviera doctors and nurses meant heavy additional
+expenses. How were they to be met, she wondered? And then she took
+herself to task for grudging her mother anything. Was she really
+seriously ill? Cecil seemed to think so, and Mrs. Adair was not one
+to succumb easily. She had always had good health, and made light of
+ordinary ailments. But this letter was three days old, surely if she
+had been worse, Cecil would have wired?</p>
+
+<p>As if in answer to her conjecture, she saw a village lad come up the
+drive, and recognising him as the postmistress's son, Joan dashed out
+into the garden.</p>
+
+<p>When he produced a yellow envelope, her heart sank. She tore it open.</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Mother died last night. Come at once.—CECIL."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>She could not believe it. She dismissed the boy and took the telegram
+with trembling fingers to her father. She hardly knew how she told him,
+but from her face he guessed the worst. And sinking down upon a chair,
+he buried his face in his hands. Joan stood by his side white and
+immovable. The awful shock of it had stunned her. Presently heartbroken
+sobs came from her father. To Joan, who had never in her life seen her
+father shed a tear, it was an awful experience. She touched him on the
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad, dear, we must do something. There is no time to lose."</p>
+
+<p>"Time!" sobbed the rector. "What does time matter now? Everything is at
+an end for me."</p>
+
+<p>The intense pathos of his tone brought the tears with a rush to Joan's
+eyes. She let herself weep unrestrainedly for some moments, and Sophia
+found them both unable to regain their composure. She herself was
+terribly shocked, but said in her practical way:</p>
+
+<p>"There's Miss Cecil to be thought of."</p>
+
+<p>Joan dried her tears at once. Her self-control was restored to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad dear, what must be done?"</p>
+
+<p>The rector lifted his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I must go to them."</p>
+
+<p>Even now he could not separate Cecil from her mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Can I catch the morning train to town?"</p>
+
+<p>He stood up. Like his daughter, he put his grief aside for the time.</p>
+
+<p>"I must go at once," he repeated dully.</p>
+
+<p>"You can catch the twelve-twenty. But what about money?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair looked at her rather helplessly.</p>
+
+<p>"How much shall I want?"</p>
+
+<p>"You can cash a cheque at the bank before you start. We have twenty
+pounds in our current account. Take it all. I suppose I cannot come
+with you? I know I can't."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was now perfectly composed. She packed his things, looked up his
+route in the foreign Bradshaw, listened to his directions for supplying
+his place on the following Sunday, then went out and ordered the jingle
+to be brought round. She drove him to the station, and it was not till
+he was actually in the railway carriage that father and daughter had
+courage to look into each other's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair's composure almost went again. "My darling wife," he
+murmured; "oh, Joan, pray that resignation to God will may be given to
+me."</p>
+
+<p>Joan nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't yet take it in," she said brokenly; "I feel almost stunned,
+but I know that God will be with you and comfort you, Father dear."</p>
+
+<p>The train went out, and Joan drove slowly home, trying to bring her
+practical common sense to the surface, but all her heart crying out for
+her brilliant, beautiful mother. Perhaps it was fortunate that she had
+so much to do and think about.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>For the next day or two she had not a moment for quiet thought until
+she went to bed. She had many anxious fears about her father, who
+had never in his life been abroad, and who was apt to be rather
+absentminded in travelling. But a wire announcing his safe arrival, on
+the second morning after his departure, eased her mind. She had many
+notes of condolence and of sympathy, but saw only one of her friends,
+and that was Major Armitage. He called one morning and told Sophia he
+was going away that day. Joan came down into her father's study to see
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"I felt I must wish you good-bye," he said, "and tell you that you have
+my deep sympathy in your loss. I am going over to Ireland to be with
+my sister, and have shut up the house for the present, but I shall not
+easily forget the warm welcome I have received in this house."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," said Joan, looking up at him with misty eyes, "my father and I
+will miss you! We have learnt to count upon you as a friend. Will you
+never come back to this part again?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was going to say I hope not," he said gravely; "but I will add, not
+to the ill-fated house I inherited. Every room is a torture to me now.
+I never told you, Miss Adair, but I expect you guessed. I came down
+here to wait patiently for a woman to come to me, and now that is over.
+She will never come. And I have been wasting my time in useless dreams.
+Now, as you said the other day, my life is going to revolve round
+others. It has no centre in itself. And I think my sister needs me
+most. Perhaps we may come to England one day, but till then, good-bye."</p>
+
+<p>He held out his hand. Joan took it, and felt tongue-tied for a moment
+or two, then she said softly:</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you for giving me your confidence. I knew you had been going
+through deep waters, but when you say your life has no centre, you do
+not mean to leave out the One who is our centre? The One in Whom 'we
+move, and have our being.'"</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her with sombre eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I have believed all my life in the Hand behind," he said; "I suppose I
+still believe in it."</p>
+
+<p>He shook hands and went. Joan watched him disappear down the road from
+the study window.</p>
+
+<p>"And so he goes away out of my life," she murmured to herself. "The
+only one I have really liked in this part of the world."</p>
+
+<p>She gave a heavy sigh. Life was inexpressibly sad, and it seemed to her
+to get more and more difficult as time slipped by.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_14">CHAPTER XIV</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>STRUGGLING IN THE NET</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>A WEEK later Mr. Adair returned, bringing Cecil with him. The meeting
+between the sisters was a very sad one. Cecil for the first time
+had been brought face to face with life's greatest reality. All her
+gaiety had left her for the time; she looked scared and miserable.
+And Mr. Adair seemed ten years older, the stoop in his shoulders was
+intensified, and his whole demeanour was listless and dejected. Yet
+he gave Joan quite simply every detail of the quiet funeral amongst
+the olive trees in the little English cemetery. And with many sobs and
+tears Cecil told her of the sudden illness and the last four days.</p>
+
+<p>"She stayed out too late one evening and caught a chill; but never told
+me that she felt much pain until the next day, and then her temperature
+went up suddenly, and she hardly knew me again. The only thing she was
+anxious about was the book she has been writing. She told me to take it
+back to England with me. She seemed to know she would not come herself.
+It seems like a nightmare. How shall I live without her?"</p>
+
+<p>Even in her grief, Cecil thought first of herself; Joan's greatest
+sympathy was with her father. She went into his study late that evening
+and found him sitting at his writing-table, his head bowed in his
+hands. When he looked up at her, his eyes were dim and lifeless.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Joan, my dear, we must comfort each other," he said, as she
+impulsively knelt by his side and put her hand lovingly on his
+shoulder. "The centre of my being seems to have disappeared. I have
+been counting the days to having her back again with us. The coming
+summer has only held her to me. I hoped she would love sitting out in
+the garden and orchard, and become so fond of it here that she would
+never want to leave us again. And I feel I have not been half tender
+and sympathetic enough with her. I have kept her short of money, though
+God knows I could not help it. It is so strange that she, so beautiful,
+so strong, and in the prime of her life, should be taken and I left!"</p>
+
+<p>"We could not do without you, Father dear," murmured Joan, tears
+starting to her eyes in spite of her efforts to keep them back.</p>
+
+<p>"She always was so much more clever than I was," went on Mr. Adair;
+"but I loved to have her so. And your mother was a good woman, Joan.
+She never talked much, but she never missed her daily Bible reading,
+and I have found her Bible marked and worn from constant reading."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Joan assented softly.</p>
+
+<p>"So we have the hope of seeing her again," went on Mr. Adair in a more
+cheerful tone; "but the blank will never be filled in my heart. Pray
+for me to-morrow, Joan. I must preach, and I feel unfit for it."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't try, Father dear, let Mr. Rushbrooke come over and take the
+services for you, as he did when you were away."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair shook his head, and as he looked at Joan, there was something
+in his attitude that made Joan steal away and leave him.</p>
+
+<p>And the message was given with singular power on the following morning.</p>
+
+<p>"'For He maketh sore, and bindeth up; He woundeth, and His hands make
+whole.'"</p>
+
+<p>The rector touched very little upon his own trouble, except to say: "I
+have been through deep waters, and I want to pass on to you what has
+been a comfort and help to myself."</p>
+
+<p>His people listened with softened hearts; and even Banty went home
+saying to herself, "There must be 'something' in Mr. Adair's religion!"</p>
+
+<p>Cecil would not go to church. She shut herself up in her room and
+stayed in bed for most of the day.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>On Monday, as she did not come down to breakfast, Joan went up to her.
+She found her very busy ordering herself mourning from a Bond Street
+dressmaker whom her mother had patronised. Joan's little pupils were
+waiting for her; so she thought that it was no propitious time for
+discussion, and she only tried to persuade her to come down to lunch.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil allowed herself to be persuaded, and after it was over wandered
+into the drawing-room disconsolately. Joan followed her. She felt if
+she did not speak now, she never should, and wanted to get it over.</p>
+
+<p>"What has possessed you to have those noisy spoilt boys here
+every morning?" said Cecil crossly. "I hear you teach them in the
+dining-room, and Sophia calmly told me the drawing-room fire was never
+lighted till after lunch. You complain that I shut myself up in my
+bedroom, but where am I supposed to sit?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's always a fire in Father's study, and he is usually out in
+the morning. I want to talk with you about ways and means, Cecil. I
+have had to do some teaching. I am most grateful for the money it
+brings me. You know we are not yet clear of debt. And Father and I do
+dislike it so. I always think a clergyman ought to be extra careful
+in money matters. I think I mentioned in my letters that I have been
+writing a few simple articles for a magazine. I have a little literary
+experience. I want you to let me see mother's book. Don't you think it
+would be a good plan for me to look over her notes and see if I could
+not finish them, and offer it to some publisher? If it sold, it would
+be a tremendous help to Father Just now."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil did not answer. She seated herself in an easy chair by the fire,
+and her brows were furrowed with thought.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't conceive why Father is always so behind-hand with his bills.
+He simply cleared out the small balance we kept in our bank abroad, and
+brought me home literally without a penny in my pocket!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you realise what his income really is. I want to talk to
+you about it. You must not order expensive clothes from London, Cecil,
+you really must not. We cannot afford it. There is a very good little
+dressmaker in Coppleton who will come out and do anything that you
+want. Father and I have strained every nerve to pay the many bills for
+clothes which have come in; but we can't do more, and I'm sure you will
+help us now by trying to be economical."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't mention the word 'economy' to me," flashed out Cecil
+passionately. "I hate the sound of it, and so did darling Mother. It
+has been the curse of our lives, and if you think that now she has
+gone, you can bully me over clothes you are mistaken. You grudge me
+my mourning for her Father has stripped me of every penny I possess.
+You are going to try to make me as great a fright as yourself in your
+country bumpkin clothes. But you won't do it. I give you fair warning!
+Mother's money is as much mine as yours. If she had known, she would
+have made a will and left it to me. She meant to do it—I know she did.
+And as for taking her book and making money out of it for yourself and
+Father, you shall not do it. It is in my keeping and belongs to me!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan was absolutely dumbfounded by this outburst. Cecil ended it by a
+passionate burst of tears. Joan instantly was on her knees beside her,
+putting her arms tenderly round her.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Cecil dearest, what cruel things to say! You are miserable, and
+so am I. We are both Mother's daughters, we both love her, and are
+mourning together for her loss. Don't let us hurt each other by unkind
+words and thoughts!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," sobbed Cecil, "you never understood her. You never loved her as I
+did. I am left alone. Nobody cares for me!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan assured her of her affection; she felt as if she were talking to a
+passionate, unreasonable child. It was absolutely impossible at present
+to convince her of the need of carefulness over money. Joan's one
+desire was to gain her love and keep it, so she gradually soothed her
+into quietness again, and Cecil went so far as to own that she did not
+mean all she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I feel beside myself with misery," she confessed. "It is an awful, a
+terrible thing—death. I can't get over it. Why, only a fortnight ago
+Mother was talking and laughing with me, now we have buried her under
+tons of earth—glad to get rid of her!"</p>
+
+<p>She gave a shudder.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," protested Joan. "Her self, her spirit is not there, only her
+worn-out body."</p>
+
+<p>"It was not worn-out—that's the—the cruelty of it! Oh, I know that
+shocks you. But if I do believe in God, I shall never love Him. He does
+such terribly cruel things or allows them to be done."</p>
+
+<p>"God sees farther than we do, and from the other side," said Joan
+firmly and gravely. "He sees both sides. We only see one, so how can we
+judge correctly? I wish you had heard Father's sermon yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil gave a little snort.</p>
+
+<p>"Father! Well, he is my father, but nobody can say his sermons are
+anything but the simplest platitudes!"</p>
+
+<p>"Our Lord's words were very simple sometimes," said Joan with flushed
+cheeks. "It is heartfelt experience that impresses me, more than any
+amount of head knowledge and clever theories."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil shrugged her shoulders, but relapsed into silence. She had
+recovered her temper, and peace was restored, but she quietly went on
+her way, and ordered London clothes at very high prices.</p>
+
+<p>Joan said no more. She felt she could not. She was intensely desirous
+of winning Cecil's affection, and she had a tremendous pity for her, as
+she knew the loss of the mother who was always so devoted to her and to
+her interests would be felt by her very deeply.</p>
+
+<p>She herself could not adjust her life to her fresh circumstances. She
+foresaw trouble in the future, for Cecil was more than ever determined
+not to adapt herself to her home environment, and Mr. Adair had said
+sadly but quite decidedly to Joan the day after he returned:</p>
+
+<p>"We must be very patient with poor Cecil, as she must be content to
+stay at home now. Her days of going abroad are over. I know our doctor
+here thought it quite unnecessary."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>After a week or two of quiet seclusion, when Cecil tried everyone in
+the house by her exacting demands and fretful complaints, life slipped
+back into the usual grooves.</p>
+
+<p>Wilmot Gascoigne had purposely abstained from troubling Joan about
+their book, but now he appeared again and made great demands, as
+before, on her time and attention. She could not give them to him
+in the same way now that Cecil was in the house; and she had been
+having great heart searchings with herself about the book since her
+mother's death. Joan was conscious that her work with him was not
+uplifting. She had often gone to bed in such weariness of body and
+such mental confusion that her peace of mind had suffered; she had
+become irritably impatient under the daily difficulties and trials,
+and she was conscious that her soul was drifting from its sure and
+certain anchorage. She had tried to break away from her writing, but
+Wilmot, with his insistent pertinacity, had refused to let her go. And
+the fascination of creating had taken possession of her. She had been
+pleased when she had influenced Wilmot to omit questionable passages
+and insert something that was really good. She had thrown a sop to her
+conscience by asserting to herself that she was improving the tone of
+his writing; but all the time she knew too well that if she did raise
+his standard a tiny bit, she lowered her own a great deal. Her mother's
+sudden illness and death had brought the unseen world very near to her,
+and the realities of life and death impressed her deeply.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon Wilmot left her hastily. She had ventured to disagree
+with much warmth with him over a vexed question of moral perception,
+and she refused to give way or allow herself to be outtalked.</p>
+
+<p>He gathered up his papers.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. I have no time or use for such unprofitable discussion, and
+must work on by myself till you come to a reasonable mind."</p>
+
+<p>Without another word he marched out of the house. Joan watched him go
+with hot cheeks and ruffled feelings. Her father was visiting in the
+village; Cecil was lying on her bed with a novel. The house was quiet.
+Tea was over, and there was a good hour and a half before dinner. Joan
+betook herself to the orchard, to a secluded spot under the pink and
+white apple blossoms, where she could remain unseen.</p>
+
+<p>There was a low bench, on which she seated herself.</p>
+
+<p>"I am caught in a net," she told herself, as, resting her chin in her
+hands, she determined to wrestle out things with herself. "I am wasting
+my talents and time on gathering straws on a muck heap! Oh, how angry
+Mr. Gascoigne would be to hear me say it! If his work is strong and
+goes down to posterity, will it be for the real welfare of those who
+read it? What will be my share in it? Am I not denying my faith and
+creed to please Mr. Gascoigne, and stifling my conscientious scruples?
+Am I not aiding and abetting him in his absolutely irreligious views of
+life?"</p>
+
+<p>She covered her face with her hands. A rush of conviction of failure
+came over her, and tears crept to her eyes. The sweet spring air, the
+twittering of birds getting ready for their nightly rest, the cooing of
+wood pigeons in the distance seemed to be purifying and cleansing her
+befogged brain. Nature always drew her to Nature's God.</p>
+
+<p>She had for a long while denied herself time to think, and her quiet
+time of thought now showed her where she was wrong. How long she sat
+there she did not know; she was deep in thought and prayer when a
+well-known voice made her start and rise to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's the bad penny again! Good luck to you, Joan, my darlint!"</p>
+
+<p>It was Derrick, standing within a few feet of her, looking very
+handsome and very mischievous.</p>
+
+<p>He took off his soft felt hat with a flourishing bow.</p>
+
+<p>"I told you I would be down for Easter. I couldn't get an invite out of
+old Jossy, and I knew—" here his face grew grave—"I knew your trouble,
+and I have written my sympathy, so I won't repeat it; but I could not
+quarter myself upon you in your circumstances; and I was determined to
+come, so I've settled myself at the Colleton Arms, where I arrived last
+night. Now, then, we're chums, remember; tell me how things are going."</p>
+
+<p>He sat down on the bench by her side. Joan heaved a sigh, half of
+pleasure and relief at seeing him, half of regret and remorse for her
+actions in the past.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, things are going badly," she said with a smile; "but they never
+do go very well with us, you know, only I am, as a rule, loath to
+acknowledge it. Don't let us talk of ourselves; tell me of your doings."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you crying about?" Derrick demanded gravely. "I don't think
+I have ever seen you with tear-stained cheeks before. How you used to
+rush away, as a small child, and hide yourself till all traces of them
+were removed."</p>
+
+<p>"You have taken me at a disadvantage," said Joan, trying to speak
+lightly. "I was really taking myself to task for my own sins and
+shortcomings. You mustn't pose as my father confessor, Derrick. Hasn't
+it been a lovely day? Shall we come indoors? Cecil will be so pleased
+to see you."</p>
+
+<p>"No, we will stay here. Now, then, start away. Tell me your trouble."</p>
+
+<p>Joan at first resented his determined tone, then the longing to get
+somebody's advice about her literary efforts made her plunge into her
+difficulties. She told him that she wanted to earn money, that she had
+been doing so before she began to help Wilmot in his book, that his
+scheme was taking all her time and strength, and that now she felt it
+was even taking her religion from her.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose I am tired, but I look upon it as a huge octopus fastening
+itself upon me and draining me of all that is best in life. It
+fascinates me when I am at work, but I want to break away from it, and
+I can't. I hoped it would not be such a long business, but, of course,
+a big book can't be written in a couple of months or so, and we have
+not been at it much longer than that. And I am really longing to put
+Mother's notes in order and bring out her book. She has done about half
+of it, and I am persuading Cecil to let me undertake it. I feel I can
+do it, and I shall love to do it. It is so pure, so—so cultured and
+interesting."</p>
+
+<p>"And what is Motty going to pay you for helping him?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan coloured.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, there has never been any question of payment. I suppose when the
+book is published, he will let me have some share in it."</p>
+
+<p>"If you haven't had an agreement in black and white, Motty won't give
+you one penny! I know him. And I question whether it will ever get into
+print. Motty is no good as a novelist. He is too heavy and dogmatical,
+and hasn't any sense of humour. You have been wasting your goods, my
+dear Joan. Don't look so downhearted. I'll get you out of his clutches.
+Fancy stopping off your own compositions when you can get them placed
+in a good magazine! It's high time I came down here to look after you,
+but I warned you against that chap, now didn't I?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan tried to laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"You talk like an old grandfather! I can't give you leave to
+interfere between Mr. Gascoigne and myself. I must get out of my own
+difficulties, but I am glad of your counsel."</p>
+
+<p>There was a little silence. Derrick was scanning her from head to foot.
+Joan always felt that he had a possessive way of talking to her, and
+she did not want to encourage it.</p>
+
+<p>"You are worried and thin, and Motty ought to be horsewhipped. He has
+taken advantage of your sweet good nature to benefit himself, and he
+does not intend that you shall have any reward for so doing."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't let us talk any more about it," said Joan, sitting up briskly.
+"Tell me about your political doings. I love to have a good talk with
+anyone who is in the know in politics."</p>
+
+<p>Derrick complied with her request. He could be very patient as well as
+very pertinacious when he liked, and he had registered a vow in his
+heart that Wilmot should hear his views very soon on the subject of his
+novel.</p>
+
+<p>He and Joan sat on till dusk enveloped them, and then Joan took him
+into the house. Cecil came out of the drawing-room to greet them.</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't think where you had gone," she said to Joan, extending her
+hand to Derrick.</p>
+
+<p>She looked very fragile and graceful in her long, trailing, thin, black
+gown.</p>
+
+<p>"It's good to see you, Derrick," she went on; "but I would welcome any
+village lout, I do believe! I am so sick of my own society."</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you take brisk constitutionals this fine weather?" demanded
+Derrick. "Women have no sense. You and Banty go to extremes; she is
+never indoors, you are never out. One is just as bad as the other."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't preach! Joan is given to that. What are you doing down here?"</p>
+
+<p>Derrick laughed in his open, happy way.</p>
+
+<p>"I've just come down for an Easter rest. Have clapped my papers and
+pens together, and fastened them down under lock and key, and I'm out
+for a spree. I'm going to make things hum for you here, and also make
+it hot—oh, very hot—for a gentleman of my acquaintance. Yes, Miss
+Joan, I am. Now, sweet Malingerer, you and I must plan out some Easter
+dissipation. What shall it be?"</p>
+
+<p>He seized hold of Cecil by the arm and marched her back into the
+drawing-room. Joan smiled as she watched them settle themselves into
+two very comfortable chairs. She was quite content that Cecil should
+enjoy his stimulating society for a little time, and she went to tell
+her father of his arrival, and then out into the kitchen to consult
+with Sophia about the dinner, for she knew that Derrick would stay for
+the rest of the evening.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_15">CHAPTER XV</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>DERRICK TO THE RESCUE</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>EASTER, on the top of their trouble, was a trying time to the Adairs,
+but Derrick helped them very much by his sunshiny optimism. Joan's
+creases smoothed out of her brows; she gave herself up to the enjoyment
+of his society. Cecil grew more cheerful and less exacting, and though,
+of course, they were very quiet owing to their deep mourning, he
+insisted on hiring a motor from the neighbouring town and taking them
+out for long days in the sweet spring sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>Wilmot went away to friends for Easter. He had been down to the rectory
+once, but had found everyone out, and Joan felt that he was deeply
+annoyed by their last interview.</p>
+
+<p>The Gascoignes had a house party, but though Derrick dined with them
+twice, he was quite content to spend most of his time at the rectory.</p>
+
+<p>"It is home in a double sense to me," he confided to Cecil. "This house
+was my boyhood's home, and now you are all in it, I feel quite a member
+of your family."</p>
+
+<p>He chaffed and laughed with her a good deal, but it was to Joan that
+he showed the tender protectiveness of his nature; and she was so
+unaccustomed to be shielded and waited upon that she hardly knew how to
+take it. Her small pupils went away with their mother to the sea for
+their holidays, so her time was much more her own.</p>
+
+<p>One morning Derrick came in early and asked her to come for a long walk
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us take some lunch with us, and then we need not hurry back."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's eyes danced, then she shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't tempt me. I had determined to mend some of the Sunday school
+library books this morning, and Sophia is at this moment making some
+paste for me. What a pity Cecil does not care for walking! You could
+take her if she did. It would do her such a lot of good."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want Cecil, I want you; and the school books can wait. Now
+hurry up! I will give you half an hour to get ready. I shall go and get
+Dominie to support me if you are still obdurate."</p>
+
+<p>There was no gainsaying him. Cecil was still in her bedroom; she rarely
+came down before lunch, and always breakfasted in continental fashion
+by herself. Joan told her that she might be out to luncheon, then she
+went out to the kitchen, and Sophia and she soon packed a small basket
+of food. In a very short time she was stepping across the heath with
+a light heart, and Derrick was well satisfied with the success of his
+move.</p>
+
+<p>"Motty is back again," he informed her. "I met Banty in the village
+this morning. She's like a fish out of water when the hunting's
+over—asked me to come up this evening to dinner, so I'm going. I mean
+to have it out with Motty."</p>
+
+<p>"Now look here, Derrick, you must promise me not to discuss our book.
+It is our private business, and nobody else's. We don't want it to be
+made public property."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child, everyone at the Hall knows about it. Old Jossy told me
+Motty was down at the rectory every night of his life, and it seems he
+taxed him with trying to win your affections. Jossy is never delicate
+in his speeches. Then Motty told him all about it. Banty considers he
+is doing you! She and I know him for a fraud! You haven't altered your
+mind about bringing it to an end, have you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I would prefer to settle it myself with him."</p>
+
+<p>"You're afraid I shall be nasty."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I am," said Joan, laughing. "Mr. Gascoigne has been very kind
+to me. I think the fact is that two people cannot write a book together
+unless they are absolutely of the same mind about certain things. At
+first I was diffident and inexperienced. I wrote as he wished; but now
+I find my principles are involved, and I will not sacrifice them to the
+public taste or demands. I do not think I should ever be a successful
+novelist. I am out of my element In tragedy and sensation."</p>
+
+<p>"You keep to your nature studies," said Derrick; "they are first-rate.
+Now let us change the subject. Now that the Malingerer has come
+home—and I hope she has come back to stay—you will be able to leave,
+will you not? I want you to come up to town. You have met my cousin,
+Mrs. Denby; she will be delighted to take you about, and I'll get you
+into the House to hear some of the debates. Can't you manage to come
+back with me when my holiday is up?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Derrick, you are too absurd!" said Joan, laughing gaily. "I shall
+never be able to leave home. And as to a visit to town, I shall be as
+likely to go up there as to Timbuctoo! No; my place is here, and here I
+shall stay. It's waste of words to suggest anything else."</p>
+
+<p>Derrick was silent for a short time; he put back what he was longing
+to say, for he did not want to spoil their day out. They tramped over
+the dead heather and bracken, and his natural good spirits asserted
+themselves. He and Joan were like a boy and girl together, and when
+they sat down on the top of a heather-covered hill and looked over
+a vast extent of fresh green country with purple distances, Joan
+exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't a care in the world at this moment! Isn't it funny how one's
+senses minister to one's soul? My mouth and eyes and nose are enjoying
+this to distraction, so my soul follows suit. Did you ever smell such
+fragrant, delicious air? I want to inhale it as much as I can. I want
+to bottle it up and take it back with me. And isn't that stretch of
+country in front of us a sight for sore eyes? Did you ever see such
+pure, deep blue hills?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you understand the tramps' and the gipsies' hatred of towns? I
+say, Joan, when the summer comes shall we do a tramp together? We might
+go down to Hampshire and start on the edge of the New Forest."</p>
+
+<p>"There is a Mrs. Grundy still," said Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought she was dead long ago. There's safety in numbers. I could
+get another fellow to join us, and Banty might come. You could chaperon
+her, or she could chaperon you. She's improving. This time I've quite
+liked her, and she worships you. I'm all for getting you out of your
+rut now that the Malingerer is at home."</p>
+
+<p>"It's no good planning such things," said Joan with a laughing shake
+of her head. "They make my mouth water, but you and I know they are
+impossible. I am not to be moved out of my rut. I am going to settle
+into it very snugly; I shall end by liking ruts. Now shall we attack
+our lunch? I am voraciously hungry!"</p>
+
+<p>It was when their walk was nearly over that Derrick spoke his mind:</p>
+
+<p>"Joan, do you realise that I'm still waiting for you?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked at him reproachfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Derrick, I hoped you were growing wiser."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk like a grandmother. There's only one woman filling my
+heart. I've been waiting all my life for you, and you know it. I want
+to settle down like other men. This is my side of it. But I also want
+to have a right to take care of you, to give you pleasure, to put you
+in a better atmosphere than you have at present. You would do us a lot
+of good if you came to town. We get so cynical and worldly, and grub so
+for money and position and power that you'd act as a splendid check,
+and also as an exhilarating tonic."</p>
+
+<p>Then, seeing Joan's eyes twinkle, he added hastily: "I only say this
+because you're so strong on influence and that sort of thing. And
+you're wasted here. But, of course, the real truth is I want you. I'm
+your devoted slave now as I always have been; but I'm getting tired of
+waiting. Oh, Joan, do listen! Give yourself right away to me now and
+for ever. Let us walk the world together, oblivious of anyone else.
+Won't you take me on trial?"</p>
+
+<p>"How? One can't marry on trial, and, Derrick, dear, I hate to say
+it, but I couldn't risk it. You're a faithful chum and a staunch
+comrade—I'm always happy with you—but—and I think this is a test of
+love—I would not be as happy if we were in closer relationship. I never
+want to get nearer to you. Do you understand? Our present friendship
+satisfies me completely. I do see this is selfishness on my part. You
+deserve to receive more, and this is the reason I did not want you to
+come down this Easter. I want you to forget me, and learn to care for
+some nice girl who will be as much in love with you as you are with
+her. I believe real love is the only foundation for a happy married
+life. And you are too good to waste your best on one who never can
+return it. You think I do not know my own mind, but I do; and I wish
+you would let this talk between us be the final one on this subject. I
+shall never alter. I always have looked upon you as a brother, and I
+always shall."</p>
+
+<p>The earnestness and force with which she spoke crushed Derrick's
+budding hopes. He was absolutely silent, fighting down his deep
+disappointment, and Joan felt almost as miserable as he did. She hated
+to have hurt him, and yet she felt it was necessary. He walked up to
+the rectory gate with her, then held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try to get over it," he said huskily. "I'm at last convinced that
+it's no good to hope any longer."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked rather wistfully at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you want my friendship still," she asked him, "or do you feel it
+must be all or nothing?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what I feel at present. A crushed, battered piece of
+pulp, I think. I suppose I had better get back to town to-morrow. I did
+promise Dominie to drive him into Coppleton, but I'll send him a line."</p>
+
+<p>Joan said nothing. She gripped his hand and smiled at him, but her eyes
+were misty, and she fled into the house. It was a comfort to her to get
+inside her bedroom and relieve her feelings by a flood of tears.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall lose the only friend I have," she thought, "and I have brought
+wretchedness instead of happiness into his life."</p>
+
+<p>She had not been in her bedroom for half an hour before Cecil came to
+the door asking for admission. After a little hesitation, Joan let her
+in, and Cecil was too absorbed in her own thoughts to notice anything
+the matter with her sister.</p>
+
+<p>She seated herself in Joan's low chair by the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Wilmot Gascoigne has been here most of the afternoon," she announced.
+"He said he could not stay to tea. I don't think there is much love
+lost between him and Derrick. Why hasn't Derrick come in? I thought he
+would be sure to have tea with us."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image006" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"><a id="Image006">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/image006.jpg" alt="image006"></a></figure>
+<p class="t4">
+<b>JOAN WAS DEEP IN THOUGHT AND PRAYER WHEN A</b><br>
+<b>WELL-KNOWN VOICE MADE HER START.</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"He did not think of it, nor more did I. Did Mr. Gascoigne want to see
+me?"</p>
+
+<p>"At first he did. But we got into very interesting talk. He knows
+the Riviera so well that we had a lot in common. I like him. It's an
+education to hear him talk. And I have given over Mother's book to him.
+I feel he is the right person to undertake it. It is very good of him
+to do it. He looked through a lot of it and liked it immensely."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Cecil, how could you?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan's bitter, passionate cry escaped her unawares. It had been her
+great hope to do it herself. She felt that she could do it, and Cecil
+had almost agreed that she should.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you should have done such a thing without asking
+Father's advice, or—or mine."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil tossed her head.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Joan, what does Father know about such things? And do you
+think for a moment that you could do it better than a clever literary
+man who knows the country in which it has been written? Why, you have
+never been abroad. Your experience is as narrow as Father's. I consider
+we are very lucky in having such a friend to take it off our hands."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you know Mr. Gascoigne as well as I do, Cecil. I am
+very, very sorry you have given it to him. To begin with, he has too
+many irons in the fire already. He has not finished the Gascoigne
+book yet; and we really do want Mother's book to be taken in hand and
+finished. I am bitterly disappointed that you have done such a thing."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you thought you could have made a name for yourself over
+it," said Cecil; "but I haven't confidence in you. Because you have
+been successful with a short magazine article, it does not follow that
+you could compile and edit a book like Mother's. I am ambitious for her
+sake. I don't want it to be a failure."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Joan, struggling to speak gently, "it is done now, so
+there is no use in talking about it. We must hope he will do it well.
+Did you arrange anything with him about the profits from it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not. There is time for that when the book has been finished
+and accepted by some publisher."</p>
+
+<p>Joan did not speak.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil got up from her chair.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you would like to hear about it," she said airily. "Are you
+coming down to tea? It is ready."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Don't wait for me."</p>
+
+<p>Joan felt desperately that she must have a little quiet to digest this
+heavy blow.</p>
+
+<p>When Cecil had left her, she pushed open her window and knelt by it.</p>
+
+<p>The fresh spring air, the scent of the violets and sweet brier hedge
+below rose to greet her.</p>
+
+<p>Her whole spirit resented Cecil's summary proceeding. She knew now
+from experience that Wilmot Gascoigne was not wholly to her liking
+as a writer. She had waged war with him more than once over certain
+passages descriptive of Nature's beauty. He belittled and scoffed at
+the recognition of a Divine hand in it, and she could not bear to think
+that her mother's book should be placed in his hands to be cut up and
+revised as he judged fit. And she felt that she had it in her to bring
+out all the best in that book. She also had fears now that Wilmot would
+not make a profitable sum out of it, and this was a very important
+matter to them all.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do things go so crooked?" she sighed to herself.</p>
+
+<p>But when she rose from her knees, she was able to go downstairs with a
+serene face, and, if her laugh was not quite so frequent or her smiles
+so bright, there was nothing in her demeanour to show vexation or
+resentment.</p>
+
+<p>When Mr. Adair heard about it, he looked annoyed.</p>
+
+<p>"You should have asked me first, Cecil," he said. "You had no right to
+give your mother's book to a stranger."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother gave me her book," said Cecil, with a wilful curve to her lips.
+"I am not a fool, and I have full confidence in Motty, as they call
+him."</p>
+
+<p>Joan wondered if she should hear any more of the book she and he were
+writing together. She hoped that Derrick would not interfere too much
+about it, and consoled herself by thinking that he would be too full
+of his own feelings to approach the subject that night, as he had
+threatened to do.</p>
+
+<p>It was of no use to argue with Cecil about the wisdom of her impulsive
+action, and Joan appeased her father by saying that Wilmot was
+certainly very clever, and was in touch with several of the leading
+publishers of the day.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>The next morning, her small pupils being still away, Joan betook
+herself to the garden. There was always a great deal more to do there
+than the odd man could possibly get through. She was very busy weeding
+a patch of ground, when a voice close to her startled her.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't keep away, you see, even after our talk yesterday; but I want
+to tell you about my interview with Motty."</p>
+
+<p>Of course, it was Derrick. Joan greeted him quite cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me," she said; "but don't expect me to stop weeding. I can do
+that and listen too."</p>
+
+<p>"It won't hurt you to rest for a bit. Here, sit on this old hen-coop.
+Now, then, where shall I begin? I nearly went for him at the
+dinner-table last night. What a conceited ass he is! But I bided my
+time, and old Jossy helped me, for he actually left us alone in the
+smoking-room together to enjoy a brand of his best cigars."</p>
+
+<p>"Derrick, I asked you not to interfere."</p>
+
+<p>"I had to take my thoughts off the gnawing ache in my heart. Isn't that
+the phrase they use in books? And I was longing to pitch into someone.
+I was in the right mood for it, and he was the right man for me. What
+on earth has the Malingerer been doing? We were at cross purposes at
+first, for he thought I had come to take away your mother's MS. from
+him. He is very keen on that now, and means to run the Malingerer for a
+bit. It seems she and he are going to do it together."</p>
+
+<p>Joan almost laughed, though she felt sore at heart. "Why, Cecil is too
+restless to stay at her writing-desk for more than half an hour at a
+time."</p>
+
+<p>"Just so. Well, he thinks, of course, you have treated him badly and
+have left him in the lurch. So that gave me my innings, and I told him
+what I thought about him. Oh, yes, I did; and if we were in France,
+I suppose there would have been an early morning duel to-day. He is
+coming down to have a personal interview with you; but I rather think
+he will back out of that, and write instead. We went at each other like
+hammer and tongs. How I wish you and Cecil would keep clear of him."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked distressed. Derrick was unusually grave.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you could talk to Cecil about it; but I am afraid she has
+already committed herself; and we do not want to quarrel with Mr.
+Gascoigne, Derrick. He has been very kind and good."</p>
+
+<p>Derrick shrugged his broad shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go straight in and have it out with the Malingerer. I had better
+see where she stands. I know you think me an interfering fool, but
+women are so helpless in the clutches of a man like Motty; and you've
+no brother."</p>
+
+<p>He was off. Joan went on with her weeding with a distracted mind. Half
+an hour later Derrick came back to her.</p>
+
+<p>"I've done no good," he confessed ruefully. "The Malingerer is
+infatuated with him, as you were; but I'll keep an eye on him, and if
+he gets the book ready for publication, I'll have my say as to the
+publisher and the price. I know a man in town who will look after it
+for me."</p>
+
+<p>He did not stay, for he told Joan he was going up to town by the twelve
+o'clock express. They took farewell of each other very quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Late that afternoon Wilmot made his appearance and asked to see Joan.
+She went into the drawing-room with a beating heart, but he was
+perfectly courteous.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to talk to you about our book. Did you think I had forsaken
+you for good and all? The fact is I called directly I came back from
+town, which was only yesterday. You were not in, and your sister, as
+you know, begged me to undertake the compiling and editing of your
+mother's notes on the Riviera. I suppose you were vexed that I had
+undertaken a fresh book without first finishing the other; but, as I
+told you before, I can work best when I have two or three books going.
+They supply a vent for my every mood and serve to quicken my faculties.
+I had no intention of stopping my work with you. You can picture my
+astonishment when Colleton attacked me like a fury. I won't tell you
+all he said. It was unrepeatable! I could only imagine he had found
+you hurt and indignant, and inclined to say hastily that you would
+have nothing more to do with me. His passion was too impotent and
+childish to touch me in the least. I could only think he had made a
+little too free with my cousin's old port. He seems to regard himself
+as your protector and guide, but I hardly think he was speaking with
+your consent upon matters which were strictly confidential between
+ourselves."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's cheeks were hot, yet she spoke with her natural sweet dignity.</p>
+
+<p>"Derrick is like a brother to us. I am sorry there was any friction
+between you. It was wrong of him. Of course, I did not wish him to
+attack you in such a way. I am very glad you have come round, because
+I was going to write to you, and it is so much easier to talk than
+to write. You must disabuse your mind of the idea that I was hurt or
+indignant with you. Why should I be? Frankly, as I have often told you
+lately, I don't feel I can help you in this joint book of ours, and I
+do want to get out of it."</p>
+
+<p>"But this is a very serious thing! If you had not been such a friend,
+I should have drawn up an agreement, and got you to sign it. You could
+not have then withdrawn without giving me some compensation for doing
+so."</p>
+
+<p>He looked straight at her as he spoke and snapped his lips together in
+an ill-tempered way.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you see," he went on, "that, unless I am able to finish that
+book single-handed, you have made me waste my strength and mind and
+time on a task that you make useless?"</p>
+
+<p>"But I am sure you will be able to finish it yourself," said Joan,
+eagerly seizing upon the loophole he gave her of extricating herself
+from his toils. "I am a drag on you; I feel that I am. We are not
+suited to work together. I pull you back, and you fetter me. And I want
+you to release me. I cannot hold to my principles and write as you
+wish. If you desire compensation, I will try and meet you, but it is
+impossible to go on writing with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," said Wilmot very stiffly, "we will say no more. I was
+mistaken in my estimate of your powers and in your adaptability to
+my methods. I cannot force you to continue working with me. Only,
+it is a pity that you did not know your own mind—or, shall I say,
+principles?—when we first started. I hope your sister will not treat me
+in the same way over this MS. of your mother's. Have you any objection
+to offer on that score?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan was so overwhelmed with his reproaches that she could say nothing
+for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"My sister gave it to you without consulting me," she said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"Which means that you would have prevented her doing it if you could?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>He gave a little bitter laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a case of being wounded in the house of one's friends," he said.
+"I wonder what I have done to turn you so against me? I suppose I have
+to thank Colleton for it. He is madly jealous of anyone poaching on his
+preserves."</p>
+
+<p>"That is quite unjust and untrue," said Joan warmly. "I had better be
+entirely frank with you. I was looking forward to editing my mother's
+book myself. It would have been a keen pleasure to me to do so, and I
+was naturally disappointed when Cecil told me that she had given it to
+you. It is nothing personal against you; I am simply disappointed, that
+is all. I know you have more experience of the scenes in which the book
+is laid, and I am sure Cecil is much happier in the thought of your
+undertaking it than if I were to do it."</p>
+
+<p>"You place me in a very unpleasant position. I think I had better see
+your sister, and suggest that I should hand it back again to you.
+I really have such a lot of literary work in hand that I shall be
+relieved than otherwise. It is a thankless task—editing other people's
+books."</p>
+
+<p>Deep annoyance underlay his words. Joan began to apologise and protest.
+He stopped her abruptly and asked her if he could see Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>Joan went to find her. She felt miserable, and knew that nothing would
+make Cecil take back the MS. Hastily she explained the situation to her
+sister, who was lying on the couch in her bedroom reading.</p>
+
+<p>"Wilmot Gascoigne here! Why was I not told? Came to see you? What
+about?"</p>
+
+<p>Then, when explanation had been given, she hastily left the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I never shall forgive you, Joan, if you have tried to force him not to
+undertake it. He must do it, and he shall."</p>
+
+<p>Joan left her to talk to him. She wandered out into the garden.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how I love peace! And how I bungle and stir up strife! Everything
+seems going wrong. I wish—I wish I had never tried to write."</p>
+
+<p>She began to tie up some straggling rose branches. She felt she did not
+want to meet Wilmot again, and yet was too proud to keep out of his
+way. She knew he must pass her as he went home. He was not very long in
+coming. To her surprise, he stopped when he reached her and held out
+his hand with one of his transforming smiles.</p>
+
+<p>"Be friends with me," he said. "Your sister won't hear of my returning
+the MS., and she says her mother gave it into her hands to do as she
+thought best with. I promise you that I will give my most careful
+attention to it. And you will be able to reap laurels on your own
+account. If I have spoken unkindly this afternoon, forgive me; but I
+was hurt and sorely—bitterly disappointed in your casting me off and
+refusing to work with me any more. I must come down very often and
+consult your sister about this book. She knows your mother's mind, and
+can supply many blanks in her notes. How can I do this if I feel you
+are unfriendly towards me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I am not that," poor Joan protested. "I am very grateful to you
+for all the help you have given me. I want to be one of your friends
+still."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we will shake hands upon it and wipe our slate clean," he said
+almost gaily.</p>
+
+<p>Joan shook hands with him, but watched his quick steps down the drive
+with a heavy heart. Certainly, Cecil was bringing discord into their
+hitherto peaceful life, yet she wondered if the fault was in herself.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_16">CHAPTER XVI</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>JOAN'S ILLNESS</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>WHEN the holidays were over, and her pupils came back to her, Joan grew
+happier. Her life was too busy to allow her much time for brooding. She
+found more and more to interest her in the parish, and began to have a
+real liking for those she visited. She always made a point of absenting
+herself from the house after tea, for Wilmot was incessantly there
+and shut up in the drawing-room with Cecil. Sometimes she felt amused
+at the quick ending to her own intercourse with him, and the easy way
+in which he had transferred his society to Cecil. If she met him, she
+always said a pleasant word to him. In a way she was thankful for the
+interest and occupation brought into Cecil's life, who looked forward
+eagerly to Wilmot's visits, and, if irritable and exacting the rest of
+the day, was always her gay sweet self when with him.</p>
+
+<p>Sophia shook her head over the visits.</p>
+
+<p>"'Twas well enough with you, Miss Joan, my dear. You meant business,
+you did; and if you'd worked all day and night with him I wouldn't have
+had a tremor, but I've eyes in my head, and I've been into the room at
+times on messages, and Miss Cecil she doesn't mean business—she means
+amusement! And if she plays with fire, she'll get burnt. There's too
+many smiles, and arch looks, and playful ways, and honeyed words to
+please me. It's my belief 'tis just flirtation over the inkpot, there!
+'Tis plain words, but just the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Sophia, you're a foolish old dear, but you don't understand," Joan
+would say.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't I? I know Mr. Gascoigne has a level head and a still heart, but
+Miss Cecil haven't, and she'll be the one to suffer."</p>
+
+<p>Joan felt a little uneasy, but could not do anything. She knew if she
+warned Cecil in any way, she would only make matters worse.</p>
+
+<p>And then an epidemic of a bad type of influenza swept through the
+village, and Joan herself became one of the victims.</p>
+
+<p>She kept up as long as she could, but at last went to bed, and stayed
+there for nearly three weeks. When she got up again, she felt very weak
+and depressed.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil had not helped much during her illness. She was so afraid of
+being infected with it herself that she had spent most of her days
+out of doors, only returning to the house to sleep. It was beautiful
+weather, too dry to be healthy, for rain had not fallen for over a
+month. Cecil would take her books and luncheon to the pine woods, and
+there Wilmot would often meet her, with his roll of MS. under his arm.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally, when Joan came downstairs again, she found a great many
+things demanding her attention, and she had little strength to give to
+them. Her father, like a man, did not realise her weakness, and was so
+glad to get her help again in parish matters that he spared her little
+and made greater demands than she had the strength to fulfil. But she
+made every effort to please him.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon Sophia came into the dining-room and found Joan literally
+sobbing over some parish club accounts. She tried to laugh when she met
+Sophia's concerned gaze.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm such a fool! I think I must have left half my brains in my bed. I
+can't add the least sum, and poor Father is hopeless with accounts. The
+books are so muddled that I can't make head or tail of them. I've been
+a whole hour over them, and the figures are now swimming in a thick
+haze before my eyes."</p>
+
+<p>Sophia swept the books up with her arm, and carried them off.</p>
+
+<p>"If you look at them again to-day, I'll put you straight to bed, Miss
+Joan, and keep you there. You come into the drawing-room and lie down
+for an hour. You're as weak as a baby."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't do it, Sophia. I have the schoolmistress coming to see me
+about some school difficulty. Here she is, coming up the drive."</p>
+
+<p>Sophia snorted, then went out to the kitchen and seized hold of pen and
+ink.</p>
+
+<p>"Jenny," she said sharply, as that young person came past her, "you
+go out of this kitchen, and don't come into it for half an hour. I've
+business to do which will take all the head I possess, and I won't be
+scatterbrained by you fussing round!"</p>
+
+<p>In half an hour's time a letter was written, and then Jenny was sent
+to the post office with it. It was addressed to "The Lady Alicia
+Fairchild."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Three days after, Mr. Adair received a wire:</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Can you put me up for a few days?—ALICIA."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>He was rather perturbed at first.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose we must say 'Yes,' my dear? I was hoping to get a little
+more of your time and attention now that you are well again. It has
+been a strain whilst you have been laid aside. Cecil seems as if she
+cannot give any help, and there are so many things that have got out of
+gear. But, of course, we cannot refuse to have Lady Alicia, and it will
+be only for a few days."</p>
+
+<p>Joan felt rather pleased. There was a triumphant gleam in Sophia's eyes
+when she was told that the spare room must be got ready. And Cecil
+acknowledged that a visitor would be very acceptable.</p>
+
+<p>Joan dragged herself about the house, feeling everything an effort,
+but determined to have all as dainty and fresh as possible for her
+godmother.</p>
+
+<p>Banty happened to call upon her the afternoon when Lady Alicia was
+expected, and exclaimed at Joan's white face and tired eyes:</p>
+
+<p>"What have you been doing to yourself? You ought to be in bed! You
+aren't fit to be up!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan's eyes filled with tears. Then she laughed. "I cry like a baby
+at nothing," she said, meeting Banty's surprised gaze. "The 'flu' has
+knocked me all to pieces. I feel quite aged. But I suppose I shall get
+all right in time."</p>
+
+<p>"You never will, if you slave away like this. What are you doing?
+Flowers? Why doesn't Cecil do them? There's nothing more tiring. I
+never touch them at home."</p>
+
+<p>When Banty took her leave, she said bluntly to Cecil, who walked to the
+gate with her:</p>
+
+<p>"You should make your sister rest, and run the show yourself for a bit.
+She's knocked all to pieces—couldn't believe my eyes when I saw her.
+Are you like me—no good in the house at all?"</p>
+
+<p>"Joan is a difficult person to manage," said Cecil sharply. "She will
+fuss about, doing everything herself, and will allow nobody to help
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd pack her back to bed and lock the door," said Banty, as she walked
+off; but Cecil did not take the hint.</p>
+
+<p>When Lady Alicia eventually arrived she was met, as usual, at the
+station by Joan, whose white, strained face moved her to instant pity;
+but she said nothing to her about herself. When she was having a cup
+of tea in the drawing-room, Lady Alicia noted that Joan's hand visibly
+trembled when she lifted the teapot, and that she had a way of passing
+her hand over her eyes when anyone spoke to her. When Cecil dropped a
+teaspoon, she started with a little cry.</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes, Jenny appeared at the door. "If you please, miss, the
+master wants to know if you've found the key of the poor-box?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan got up at once. Turning to Lady Alicia, she said, with a laugh:</p>
+
+<p>"I do believe that whilst I was ill, Father lost every key he ever
+possessed, as well as making hay of all the parish accounts and
+registers. We haven't reached our normal state yet."</p>
+
+<p>She left her tea untasted. Lady Alicia turned to Cecil at once when
+Joan had left the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Cecil, dear, do you know why I came down? I see I was right to come."</p>
+
+<p>"To see Joan, I suppose. I know you wouldn't come so far to see me."</p>
+
+<p>"To take her away with me for a rest and change. Don't you realise that
+she is badly needing it?"</p>
+
+<p>Cecil's laughing face grew grave.</p>
+
+<p>"Father pesters her so! He seems as if he is perfectly lost without
+her. She will never leave him."</p>
+
+<p>"You must help her to do so by promising to take her place."</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't. It would be an impossibility. I am not cut out for parish
+work. I hate the lower orders, and they, of course, know it, and hate
+me back!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, many of us have to do things we dislike, and you are going to
+prove your courage by doing it, too."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia laid a gentle hand on her arm.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child, you must, unless you want Joan to have a serious
+relapse. Don't pretend to be more selfish than you really are."</p>
+
+<p>"Father won't hear of Joan's leaving. He can't even let her have her
+tea in peace. Here they come, together. By their faces I should say the
+key is found."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair came in beaming.</p>
+
+<p>"Found in the lining of my hat," he said. "Joan remembered that I have
+a trick of putting things there. Now I can enjoy my tea."</p>
+
+<p>"Joan's tea is quite cold," said Cecil severely.</p>
+
+<p>But Mr. Adair could never take a hint. He was quite unaware that he was
+inconsiderate in his continual demands for Joan's help.</p>
+
+<p>Joan sat down at the tea tray again and gave her father his tea, then
+leant back in her chair and listened to the conversation with an absent
+air, forgetting to take her own.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image007" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"><a id="Image007">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/image007.jpg" alt="image007"></a></figure>
+<p class="t4">
+<b>JOAN HEARD A CHILD'S SHRILL CRY FOR HELP, AND LOOKING OUT</b><br>
+<b>UPON A ROCK CLOSE To THE SEA, SHE SAW A SMALL FIGURE</b><br>
+<b>WAVING A HANDKERCHIEF.</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"I am on my way to Ireland," said Lady Alicia. "I dare say you may
+remember that I have an old house there, which for the last ten years
+has been let to a retired colonel and his wife. They have become
+alarmed at the prospect in front of them, for she has delicate health,
+and gave me notice to leave last quarter. They have actually left now,
+and I have an empty house on my hands. I am afraid, in the unsettled
+state of poor Ireland, that tenants will not be forthcoming, so I must
+go up there and see what I had better do about it. People tell me it
+may be needed as a hospital or convalescent home, but I pray that even
+yet some settlement may be arrived at to prevent the awful cloud of war
+coming down upon our unhappy land."</p>
+
+<p>"I never knew you had Irish property," said Mr. Adair. "Unless you live
+there yourself, you will, as you say, have no chance of letting it in
+these days."</p>
+
+<p>"No; it is in Ulster, and that fact alone, all agents tell me, is
+enough to keep people away from it."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going to the choir practice to-night, Joan?" asked Mr. Adair.</p>
+
+<p>Joan started. She swallowed down her cold cup of tea.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose I must. I had forgotten it."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you let it slip to-night?" pleaded Lady Alicia. "You are not fit
+to do it, Joan dear. Do you know, Mr. Adair, I find Joan looking very
+ill?"</p>
+
+<p>"She has been very poorly," said Mr. Adair, quite cheerfully, "but she
+is well again now, thank God."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Father, Lady Alicia will not think much of your powers of
+observation! Now, Joan, you sit still for once in your life, and I will
+step across to the church and dismiss those choir boys."</p>
+
+<p>She sauntered out of the room. After rather a feeble protest, Joan
+remained in her seat.</p>
+
+<p>"I do feel frightfully lazy," she said, "and perhaps it will not matter
+missing a practice for once."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair put on his spectacles and looked across at Joan with a
+puzzled air.</p>
+
+<p>"Joan, dear," said Lady Alicia, "could you let me speak to your father
+alone for a few minutes?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked surprised, but immediately left the room. She went upstairs
+to see if Lady Alicia's luggage had been carried to her room.</p>
+
+<p>She found Sophia there unstrapping the boxes, and when Joan said that
+that was Jenny's work, the old servant shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm waiting to see her ladyship, Miss Joan."</p>
+
+<p>"How fond you are of her!"</p>
+
+<p>"She is my only hope," said Sophia, "for she's a sensible woman, and
+never lets the grass grow under her feet."</p>
+
+<p>Joan sat down in the easy chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Sophia, I wish I did not feel so tired. What is the matter with
+me, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>"The matter! Have you given yourself a chance? Haven't you just left
+your bed to run up and down everywhere, after everybody and everything?
+You're just tempting Providence—that's what you're doing."</p>
+
+<p>Joan did not answer.</p>
+
+<p>Sophia was down on her knees, unpacking now. It was not very long
+before they heard the drawing-room door open, and in a moment or two
+Lady Alicia was in the room. She held out her hand to Sophia.</p>
+
+<p>"It is all settled," she said. "Miss Joan is coming over to Ireland
+with me next Tuesday, and I shall keep her there till she is her bonny
+self again!"</p>
+
+<p>Sophia's face glowed with pleasure, but Joan protested in amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"How can I leave home! It's impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's perfectly easy. Your father has consented to part with you, and
+it will be Cecil's opportunity to prove her abilities."</p>
+
+<p>Joan could hardly believe her ears. The prospect of a change and a
+holiday with her beloved godmother almost overwhelmed her. She still
+would not believe that it could be realised.</p>
+
+<p>"Cecil will never take my place," she said. "Father will get miserable
+and ill, and the whole parish go to pieces."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you over-estimate your powers," said Lady Alicia dryly.</p>
+
+<p>Joan flushed crimson.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, ask Sophia what it was like when I was ill. She said she could
+never go through it again!" Sophia looked a little abashed.</p>
+
+<p>"I may have spoken rash, Miss Joan, but I'm willing to do it again, for
+if I don't, you'll just sink into your grave. I want to see your face
+smile and hear you singing as you go about. It's been a dreary time
+of late. Her ladyship has my full sanction, as she knows, to take you
+away, and glad I'll be to see you go!"</p>
+
+<p>With that, Sophia stumped out of the room; and, looking up at Lady
+Alicia, Joan cried, between tears and smiles:</p>
+
+<p>"I believe it is a plot between you."</p>
+
+<p>"It is, my dear. Sophia wrote to me asking me to come and look after
+you. Now, Joan, you must help me by making it easy for them to spare
+you. Your father is willing; that is the one thing that matters. I am
+going to have a long talk with Cecil to-night. I think she will rise to
+the occasion."</p>
+
+<p>At mention of Cecil's name, Joan's face clouded.</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I cannot, ought not to leave her. You know what she is,
+Lady Alicia. So difficult to influence and restrain. Yesterday I
+heard some unpleasant gossip in the village about her. She and Wilmot
+Gascoigne are going to publish my mother's book. I wrote to you about
+it, did I not? They spend hours together in the woods over it—Cecil
+never does conform to convention—and the village will have it that they
+are 'courting,' to use their own expression. Don't you see that if I go
+away, matters may get worse? There will be nobody to look after Cecil;
+she does want looking after. Mother shielded her and lived for her; she
+is quite unaccustomed to stand alone. And if she wants to do a thing,
+she will do it, regardless of appearances or consequences."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child, your absence will prove her salvation. She will be kept
+too busy in house and village to have the time for long rambles with
+this young man. Is he not the one with whom you were going to write a
+book?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes—oh, I have so much to tell you, and so much to talk about!"</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia noted again the weary gesture of the hand across the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall have plenty of time for talk by and by. It will all keep for
+the present."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't believe I shall go with you. I haven't thanked you yet. It
+seems too like a dream to be true. I wonder if it will be possible for
+me to leave?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell you, my dear, that I do not intend to leave this house
+without you."</p>
+
+<p>"But my pupils! Oh, dear Lady Alicia! There are such crowds of
+objections to my going. You see, my illness has been such a set-back.
+Harry and Alan are running wild; it isn't fair to them."</p>
+
+<p>"I think, if I may say so, you ought not to continue to teach them.
+Surely, my dear Joan, there is not such pressing need now for money?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid we have still back bills troubling us. You are no
+stranger, Lady Alicia; you know what a struggle it was when Mother and
+Cecil were abroad. My Father has never got straight since the expenses
+of our move, and Cecil will not realise the necessity for economy. I
+have now in my possession bills to the amount of thirty pounds which
+she has incurred since Mother's death, and nearly all of them are for
+clothes. I dare not let Father see them; he would worry so!"</p>
+
+<p>"But, my dear Joan, this must be stopped. I am very glad you have told
+me—I always feel I come next to your mother with regard to you two
+girls, and Cecil is a little influenced by me, I know. Does not your
+father give her a settled allowance?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. You see, Mother and she were always together, and Mother gave her
+a free hand."</p>
+
+<p>"I will try and get him to do it at once, and then, if she exceeds
+it, she will be responsible for her own bills. You will not mind my
+helping you in this matter? You know I am fond of Cecil, though I see
+her faults. And I will call on your doctor's wife and put the case
+before her. Perhaps she can manage to teach her boys herself till you
+come back. Be strong-minded, my dear. Refuse to worry, and things will
+smooth themselves out."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia certainly worked wonders. She went out into the village the
+next day, arranging what part of Joan's duties should be undertaken by
+the schoolmistress, and enlisting Miss Borfield's help as well. Mrs.
+Blount was flattered by a visit from her, but announced her intention
+of sending her boys to school.</p>
+
+<p>"Their father fully meant them to go this term, but we did not like to
+take them away from Miss Adair. She has taught them splendidly, and I
+am very grateful to her. My husband was only saying yesterday that she
+ought to go away for a thorough rest and change. He met her on her way
+to station, and thought her looking shockingly ill. I am sure he will
+be very glad to hear that you are taking her away."</p>
+
+<p>Then Lady Alicia came back to the rectory, and had a very long talk
+with Cecil about helping her father in Joan's absence and keeping down
+expenses.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil was at first airily indifferent; then she grew hot and indignant,
+and, finally, her better self prevailed.</p>
+
+<p>"I never can make money go far—it slips through my fingers like water;
+but I'll just keep things going till Joan comes back. She does deserve
+a holiday; I know she ought to have it. I dare say it will be easier to
+do things when she is away than when she is here. Anyhow, I am not a
+fool, and Sophia is a host in herself. We shall manage."</p>
+
+<p>Lastly, Lady Alicia talked to Mr. Adair, and before she left, he
+arranged with Cecil that he should give her a dress allowance, which
+allowance she was not to exceed.</p>
+
+<p>On Tuesday, Lady Alicia and Joan set off for Ballyclunny, in the north
+of Ireland.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_17">CHAPTER XVII</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>A VISIT TO IRELAND</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>IT had been raining all day, but when the little local train drew up at
+the station, the sun was shining through the clouds, and every tree and
+bush held thousands of diamond points of wet glistening in the golden
+rays.</p>
+
+<p>The soft, moist air was refreshing to the travellers, who were both
+tired. An antiquated landau was waiting outside for them, and when Lady
+Alicia suggested that it should be opened, the old coachman looked very
+troubled.</p>
+
+<p>"The colonel's lady has never ridden with her head bare to the heavens,
+me lady. Sure, the fastenin's will be rusted entoirely; but if so be
+that Mr. Murdoch here will put his shoulder to the cratur, we'll be
+able to open her between us."</p>
+
+<p>Then, in a loud aside, he ejaculated: "May the Holy Virgin kape a hold
+of me coat tails, for me body as it is be burstin' through!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan laughed out, and Lady Alicia said that she would not trouble them
+to open it if it was so difficult. But the station-master, Mr. Murdoch,
+was hot and impetuous; he called two porters, and the four men threw
+themselves upon the vehicle, where they wrestled and talked and swore
+to such an extent that Joan thought they were indulging in a free
+fight. At last it was wrenched open, and Pat McQuick, the old coachman,
+mounted his box again in triumph. But the seams of his coat justified
+his fears, and the neck of it was ripped open in more places than one.</p>
+
+<p>"We are true to our traditions," said Lady Alicia, laughing softly.
+"After our immaculate English servants, these give us rather a shock.
+I have lived so little in Ireland that I have not had much personal
+experience of it; but my friends tell me it is impossible to keep their
+servants tidy. Of course, in the towns it is different, and in the big
+houses; but my house is very old and very primitive. I wonder what you
+will think of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I shall love every inch of it," said Joan enthusiastically.</p>
+
+<p>They drove along a flat, marshy moor; the wild duck and peewits seemed
+to have it to themselves. Then they came to woods, climbed a steep
+hill, and there had the most lovely view of the blue ocean below them.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not know you were near the sea."</p>
+
+<p>"Three miles from it."</p>
+
+<p>Then they descended into a green valley, twisted in and out of some
+very narrow lanes, and eventually came to a cluster of cottages and
+a small church. Some barefooted children raced after the carriage
+cheering and gesticulating wildly.</p>
+
+<p>"That's a welcome to us," said Lady Alicia, smiling. "We are only just
+outside the village."</p>
+
+<p>They stopped at a very imposing-looking iron gate, flanked with massive
+pillars. There was a little lodge inside, and an old woman, curtsying
+deeply, opened the gate.</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked out with great interest as they drove up the avenue. Rather
+an overgrown shrubbery flanked it on either side, then they turned the
+corner and came out upon a large grass lawn. Two goats and a flock of
+chickens were perambulating across it. The house faced them. It was a
+little grey stone building, with a rose-covered veranda running along
+the front of it.</p>
+
+<p>To Joan it seemed very unassuming after the long avenue and pretentious
+entrance. The door was opened by a very stout, smiling woman in a red
+striped cotton dress and a large, coarse, white apron. She wore no cap.
+Lady Alicia knew her, and called her Biddy.</p>
+
+<p>"Glad we are to see you, me lady," she said; "but there's few enough
+to greet ye. The kornel an' his lady, well they just ran the house
+with meself an' me niece Mary; but sure it wasn't the kornel that
+was masther, but his valet—just a sojer man. And then there was the
+foine English maid that turned her nose upwards and her lips down,
+an' she an' the kornel's man—they just had very clever heads an' lazy
+bodies—for 'twas orders here and orders there, an' even Larry was under
+the cratur's thumbs!"</p>
+
+<p>Talking all the time, she led them into a stone-flagged hall, and
+then into a long, rambling room at the back of the house with quaint
+corners and recesses, and three casement windows opening into an untidy
+flower garden. There was a small fire lighted, and the room looked
+comfortable. It was furnished more for comfort than show, though it had
+some good pictures and china on the walls.</p>
+
+<p>"This is, or was, the drawing-room, Joan," said Lady Alicia. "You see
+we shall not be in luxury, but it makes a cosy living-room. We have a
+dining-room and small morning-room besides; but if the weather is fine,
+we must spend most of our time out of doors. Now, Biddy, how soon can
+you give us something to eat? And then we will go to bed early, for we
+are very tired."</p>
+
+<p>Biddy assured them that dinner could be served in half an hour,
+and then she took them up a broad, shallow flight of stairs to the
+bedrooms. They lay on both sides of a wide corridor running the length
+of the house, and Joan was delighted with her room. She could catch a
+glimpse of the sea from her windows, and roses were climbing the wall
+outside and scenting her room with their fragrance. When she came down
+to dinner later, Lady Alicia said:</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Joan, you are already looking rested; what have you been doing to
+yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," said Joan, laughing, "except that I have thrown off the
+burden of housekeeping and responsibility, and mean to enjoy every
+minute of my time here."</p>
+
+<p>"We will lead the simple life. I have great confidence in Biddy, for I
+have known her since she was a girl. I really came over to see who I
+could place here as caretakers. If she and her niece will stay on, I
+could not do better. But I see I shall have to have some repairs done.
+It is an old house, and wants a good deal of attention from time to
+time."</p>
+
+<p>They enjoyed their simple little dinner, and then, as the evening was
+fine, they wandered round the old garden. Joan felt as if she were in
+a dream. She had not left home for so long that she loved the very
+novelty of a fresh atmosphere and environment. And it was a real treat
+to be able to confide in her godmother and receive her sympathy and
+counsel. It almost seemed unreal to her to be absolutely detached from
+duty, and be able to indulge in rest and recreation just as she felt
+inclined.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia looked after her well. She sent her early to bed, and told
+her that breakfast would be served to them in their rooms.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you can sleep on, if you like. We need not meet till lunch time."</p>
+
+<p>But, tired though she was, Joan was not fond enough of her bed to
+stay there. And very early the next day found her out in the garden,
+making friends with the horses and dogs in the stable, listening to old
+Larry's yarns of bygone days, and at last settling down on a charming
+old seat on a knoll overlooking a wide expanse of country and the ocean
+upon the horizon. Here she sat for a full hour with her hands loosely
+clasped in her lap and her eyes and thoughts far-away.</p>
+
+<p>The soft air fanned her brow. There was the scent from a sweet brier
+hedge close to her, and a waft of burning peat and wood from the
+chimneys of the house.</p>
+
+<p>Her thoughts flew back home. "What was Cecil doing? Would she remember
+that this was the day for ordering the groceries and that the village
+women came to the vestry to pay in their club money? Would Mr. Adair
+remember that clerical meeting in the afternoon? And would Benson
+remember to earth up the potatoes and mend the orchard fence?"</p>
+
+<p>Then she gave herself a mental shake and began to think of some nature
+studies that were simmering in her mind. But very soon her mind was
+back in the old rectory. Would Wilmot Gascoigne be continuing to come
+there? Was there a fragment of truth in the village gossip? Was it
+possible that Cecil was learning to care for him? And if Wilmot really
+cared for her, would it be a good match for them both? Again she
+determined not to worry. Lady Alicia came out in a few minutes to find
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if you would like to drive out to the sea this afternoon,"
+Lady Alicia said. "I must go over the house with Biddy and do a good
+deal of business with her; but Larry could drive you down in the pony
+trap. There is a fat pony out at grass who wants to be exercised, and
+the coast is lovely; I am sure you would enjoy it."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was delighted at the idea, and at two o'clock she set off in a
+jingle. Larry used a good deal of whip and tongue before the pony could
+be persuaded to settle into a steady trot; but time was no object, and
+Joan was so interested in everything which she saw that she was in no
+hurry to end the drive.</p>
+
+<p>Once a motor whizzed past them.</p>
+
+<p>Larry gave an indignant snort.</p>
+
+<p>"Bad luck to those that use 'em!" he said vindictively. "Me son's wife
+have lost foive pigs this very year, an' sorra a bit did the craturs
+giv' her for the slaughter of 'em, for she were seven mile from town,
+an' the police never got in toime to tak the number, an' they just tore
+on for all they were worth! 'Tis one of the things we hope for when
+this Home Rule comes, that them motors be kep' under strict control of
+police."</p>
+
+<p>"But I thought they were! What else do you expect Home Rule to do for
+you, Larry? I thought you were all against it up here."</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis like this, Miss. There be a lot of injustice to us Oirish, and
+I were born in Cork and be a strict Catholic. The priests tell us the
+good old times be comin' back, an' I believe 'em. An' we shall have
+a king an' parlyment all of our own one day, an' money will run the
+streets like water, they say. A gran' toime be comin'!"</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head slowly from side to side.</p>
+
+<p>Joan did not attempt to argue with him; she drew him on to talk, and
+when they came out upon miles of rough moorland by the sea, she left
+off talking to enjoy the scene before her.</p>
+
+<p>At last, she got out of the jingle, told Larry to wait for her, and
+made her way down to the beach. The tide was out. Great waves in the
+distance dashed and foamed over long reefs of rock; the golden sand
+with its seaweed and shells proved an enticing place to Joan. She
+wandered on, meeting nobody, and revelling in her solitude.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she turned a corner, and heard a child's shrill cry for help.
+Looking out upon a rock close to the sea, she saw a small figure waving
+a handkerchief. She set off running towards it, and saw it was a tiny
+girl quite surrounded by the sea. The tide was evidently on the turn,
+and had crept in round her before she had noticed her peril. She was
+tugging at something which was evidently caught in a wedge of the rock.
+Joan wasted no time in thought. She pulled off her shoes and stockings,
+tucked up her skirts, and walked right in, till she reached the child.
+She was surprised to find the water reach her knees.</p>
+
+<p>"My fis' net! My fis' net! A nas'y cwab has got it in his teef!" the
+child cried excitedly.</p>
+
+<p>Joan made a grab at the stick, and with a jerk pulled up a shrimping
+net; then she lifted the little girl in her arms and waded back into
+safety. Putting her down on the sand, she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, where's your nurse? You might have been drowned."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," nodded the small girl. "I screamed and screamed because the
+wicked sea ran at me so quick, and I couldn't and couldn't get my fis'
+net out of that hole! And then I see'd you, and I waved my hanky, and
+then you comed. And now I'll go back and sit down where Uncle Randal
+putted me. He'll be coming soon, but poor Rory hurted his foot and it
+bleeded, and he was carrying him to the car."</p>
+
+<p>"Your uncle ought not to have left you on the beach alone," said Joan
+severely.</p>
+
+<p>"I did pwomise him I wouldn't move; but then—why then—well, I had to,
+for a little cwab ran away from me, and I followed him, and then I
+forgot!"</p>
+
+<p>She trotted across the sand—a dear little barefooted mite in white
+jersey and cap and a rough serge frock, with a crop of golden curls and
+mischievous, sparkling face.</p>
+
+<p>Joan stayed to slip into her shoes and stockings, then leisurely
+followed her. By the time she reached her, a tall man had appeared down
+an opening in the cliff, and the little girl was gesticulating wildly
+in Joan's direction.</p>
+
+<p>Joan came up, then started in amazement, for the man strode towards her
+in no less surprise.</p>
+
+<p>It was Major Armitage.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Adair, have you dropped from the skies?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, indeed I have not; have you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I brought my small niece for a motor ride. She inveigled me down to
+the sea; then our dog cut his foot, which necessitated my taking him
+back to the car, which is waiting for us above; and I find, as usual,
+she has nearly brought catastrophe upon herself by not doing as she was
+told. How on earth do you happen to be in these parts?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan told him. He listened with the greatest interest. He seemed more
+animated and in better spirits than when she had seen him last; but he
+did not compliment her upon her appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"You must have been ill," he said to her, "to lose your colour so! I
+have never seen you anything but radiant and blooming."</p>
+
+<p>"And now I am a haggard wreck," said Joan, laughing, the colour and
+light coming into her eyes and cheeks. "This is a very surprising
+encounter. Of course, I knew you had gone to Ireland; but my mind has
+been so engrossed with difficulties at home that I never thought of
+associating you with this part. You know Lady Alicia, do you not?"</p>
+
+<p>A shadow came over his face at once.</p>
+
+<p>"I have never met her, though she has often stayed at my brother's. She
+is charming, I believe. We are about twenty miles away; that is nothing
+to us, for my sister keeps a car. We will come over and call."</p>
+
+<p>Then he looked down upon his little niece. "Sheila, this lady who
+rescued you just now is an old friend of mine. Kiss her and thank her
+for what she has done for you."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't call her old at all, at all!" responded Sheila quickly, then
+she sprang lightly up and seized hold of Joan round the neck, and gave
+her a hug. "She's my fren' as well as yours, Uncle Randal, but I shan't
+call her old as you do. She's young—quite young, like Mummy!"</p>
+
+<p>"May I say what a pleasure it is to see you again," said Major
+Armitage, letting his eyes dwell on Joan in almost a tender way. "The
+one bright memory of Old Bellerton is my evenings in the church on
+Sunday, and supper at the rectory afterwards. I have felt such a long
+way off from you all that the sudden sight of you is a very delightful
+experience."</p>
+
+<p>"We have missed you very much," Joan said quietly, looking up; and then
+she turned again to the child, for somehow or other she was shy of
+meeting his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't conceive how Lady Alicia managed to spirit you away. What will
+they do without you? You were indispensable to everybody."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid I thought so; but I'm not at all, and Cecil is home now,
+and she is looking after things. I was cross, and slack, and very
+unpleasant after my attack of 'flu,' and I dare say they are glad to
+get rid of me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, how are you going back? Can't I offer you a seat in my car?
+I'll run you to Ballyclunny in no time."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, but I must return the same way I came. Old Larry would feel
+quite hurt if I were to desert him. He is the old coachman, and has
+driven me here in a small jingle. He let me know that it was a great
+favour to have his company; and said that it was only because I was
+fresh to 'Oireland' that he had come with me himself instead of sending
+the boy. I can't give you his accent, but he said I was the very divil
+for getting information, and he was the only one in that part of the
+country who could give it to me!"</p>
+
+<p>She laughed merrily as she shook hands with the Major. He smiled, then
+grew grave.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you did not get wet in rescuing this naughty child? I blame
+myself for having left her. I am really deeply grateful to you, and so
+will her mother be, when she hears of her escapade."</p>
+
+<p>"I did very little."</p>
+
+<p>Then glancing at the laughing, dancing child, she said:</p>
+
+<p>"I am so glad you have a small niece, Major Armitage. Children are an
+exhilarating tonic."</p>
+
+<p>"And you think I wanted one? I am not a man who sits down with a broken
+backbone when life deals him blows. When I left your part of the world,
+I closed and sealed a chapter in my life. Here I am in a fresh one."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke bravely, but in the tired, weary lines upon his face he
+carried the stamp of suffering. And when Joan had left him and was
+jogging home behind the fat pony, she wondered if he would ever be
+quite the same man again.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia was very interested when she heard of the encounter.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not able to get away from your Old Bellerton friends even
+here. I had forgotten he had a married sister. What is her name?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think she married a Mr. Donavan."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know! The Donavans have a beautiful old place about twenty miles
+away. Well, how strange! But I am not sure that I like your being drawn
+back into your old atmosphere. I wanted you to have a complete break
+from it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we are not likely to meet very often. Major Armitage is not fond
+of society."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia looked in a meditative fashion at Joan, then shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>To herself she said:</p>
+
+<p>"The man that prefers one woman to many is dangerous!"</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Two days afterwards a car drove up.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Donavan and Major Armitage were announced. Meta Donavan was a
+bright, vivacious little woman. She took hold of Joan by both hands and
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"I feel inclined to kiss you! You saved my darling from what might have
+been a watery grave. And I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Of
+course, I have heard of you, and I pictured you a Madonna and a saint.
+You look quite like an ordinary being! Saints don't have dimples. I
+congratulate you upon that possession!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan could not help laughing. Then, as Major Armitage was talking to
+Lady Alicia, Mrs. Donavan gave a little nod in his direction.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you think he is looking? I flatter myself Sheila and I have
+done him a world of good. Be came up here looking like a ghost. I could
+hardly get a word out of him; but I never rested till I got him at my
+piano, which happens to be a very good one, and then he relaxed, and I
+won a smile out of him!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan wondered if she was her brother's confidante. She hardly thought
+so, but she could well understand that she would win her way with
+anybody.</p>
+
+<p>And then presently whilst tea was being got ready, they sauntered
+out into the untidy garden, and Joan and Major Armitage were thrown
+together.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you coming back to us again?" she asked when he had been asking
+for village news.</p>
+
+<p>He gave a little shudder.</p>
+
+<p>"God forbid! I told you that bit of my past is sealed."</p>
+
+<p>"But what are you going to do about your house?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm never going to live in it again."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked grave.</p>
+
+<p>"Your tenants will be sorry. Are you going to sell it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; at least, I have not made up my mind."</p>
+
+<p>"I am very inquisitive," said Joan apologetically; "you must forgive
+me. I get so very interested over everyone that I almost regard their
+affairs as mine, which is most foolish."</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all," said Major Armitage quickly. "You are a friend. You have
+a right to ask me questions. If things became quieter over here, my
+sister would like to leave Ireland for a time. Then I thought she might
+like to have my old house. And I shall perhaps go abroad or drift into
+club life in London."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" said Joan impulsively. "You talk as if you have no object in your
+life."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think I have."</p>
+
+<p>"But your music! Your music!" she cried. "You must not lay that gift
+aside. If you do not compose, you can play. And you like Church music.
+If I had your gift, I would take some big post as organist and would
+speak to souls with my music. Oh, Major Armitage, you have not given up
+your music?"</p>
+
+<p>He looked down upon her and smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could have you always near me to rouse me from my lethargy
+and inspire me! I think one needs to be very happy, or very miserable,
+to produce good music. And over here I have been living a day at a
+time, refusing to think at all deeply, or do more than enjoy the
+present. But I don't mean to give up my music. You are quite right
+there. And already I am being pestered to return to town and undertake
+several things there. But for the present, I am looking after my
+sister's estate for her. It badly needs a man upon it."</p>
+
+<p>"And brains," said Joan, smiling. "I do acknowledge the superiority
+of your sex. I might have known you would not be idle. Forgive my
+impertinence."</p>
+
+<p>Then the others joined them, and they went indoors to tea.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Donavan insisted that they should come over to lunch in two days'
+time, and this they did. Joan thoroughly enjoyed the day. It was one of
+the very few old houses in Ireland which had not been allowed to suffer
+decay, and the gardens were beautifully kept. She thought Mrs. Donavan
+must be a very happy woman till she took her up to the top of a turret
+tower to see the view, and then leaning her arms on the parapet the
+young widow gazed away to the distant country with misty eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" she cried. "For a log cabin and a man to take care of me!
+Miss Adair, you were saying just now you envied me my home. I have
+come to see that no environment compensates for the loss of close
+companionship. I have been a lonely miserable woman since my husband
+died, and if civil war comes to our poor country, I will almost welcome
+the opportunities I shall have of doing and denying myself in the great
+cause. I am tired and sick of comfort and prosperity. I am not made for
+it, unless I have someone I love to share it with me."</p>
+
+<p>"You have your brother now."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," and her face sparkled through its tears. "I can't tell you what
+he has been to me! He has had his trouble, poor fellow! The world is
+full of it, but as I tell him, his bliss was snatched away from him
+before he tasted it. I tasted mine to the full, and the miss of it is
+agony!"</p>
+
+<p>Then she shook off her emotion, and after that one glimpse of a hidden
+self, Mrs. Donavan relapsed into her usual sparkling and charming
+gaiety. Major Armitage was in a quiet, grave mood. Joan did not see
+much of him, for Sheila claimed her as an old friend, and carried her
+off to see her pets and her own little garden.</p>
+
+<p>When they were driving home, Joan said to Lady Alicia:</p>
+
+<p>"I think if I were given very favourable circumstances, I should live a
+very lazy self-indulgent life. I do love spending my days in idleness."</p>
+
+<p>"You are resting now. I should not be afraid for you, Joan. Life is too
+real to you to waste."</p>
+
+<p>Joan shook her head doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to go home and settle down in the old routine. You
+don't know how I chafe against it, Lady Alicia. I am so weary of it,
+and Cecil tries my patience, and I even get fretted by my father's
+continual cheerful optimism!"</p>
+
+<p>"You must remember you have been ill. You will feel quite differently
+soon. I would remind you of a favourite text of yours which will be
+made your experience, and has been, has it not? 'Strengthened with
+all might, according to His glorious power, unto all patience and
+long-suffering with joyfulness.'"</p>
+
+<p>Joan drew a long sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child, 'being' is as important as 'doing' in God's sight. A
+life lived consistently is a sermon in itself. Think of Cecil and of
+Banty Gascoigne. Both watching you, both keenly conscious when you fail
+in gentleness and patience. Are they not worth winning?"</p>
+
+<p>"I feel it would need a miracle to alter Cecil," Joan said despondently.</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause, then Lady Alicia said: "I want you to go back
+invigorated and refreshed, and I expect you will. But you are not ready
+yet either in mind or body."</p>
+
+<p>And Joan found that Lady Alicia was right. As the days sped on and
+she found her keenness and energy return to her, thoughts of her home
+duties no longer oppressed her. She revelled in the simple outdoor life
+she was leading, and drew fresh health from her surroundings. When next
+Major Armitage met her, he complimented her on the improvement in her
+appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"It is the Irish air," she said, laughing. "I can no longer pretend
+that I am an invalid."</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_18">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>THE CHURCH IN THE HILLS</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"SUCH a long letter from Cecil!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan spoke joyfully. The post had come in rather later than usual. It
+was a lovely morning in June. Joan had met the postman in the avenue,
+and had just settled herself under a shady beech tree on the lawn to
+enjoy her letters. Lady Alicia took a chair, too, under the tree. She
+had a fair-sized packet of letters in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>Joan had troubled over Cecil's silence. She had only written to
+her once, and that was a hurried line. Mr. Adair was not a good
+correspondent, and though he gave her parish news, the little details
+of daily life at the rectory were not mentioned. She glanced at the
+closely written sheets in delight, and then caught her breath in
+astonishment and almost dismay.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia looked up.</p>
+
+<p>"No bad news, I trust?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know. I suppose it is only my fears come true. Cecil
+writes to tell me that she is engaged to Wilmot Gascoigne."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia did not speak. Joan went on hurriedly reading her letter.
+None of the details for which she craved were there; only a long
+dissertation on love and marriage and the description of Wilmot in the
+light of a devoted lover.</p>
+
+<p>"We are convinced that there is mental affinity between us," Cecil
+wrote. "I inspire him, he tells me, and to be the inspiration of such
+a genius is enough for me. It is not the common foolish love we feel
+for each other. It is intellectual appreciation, that soul to soul
+intercourse which is only understood by ourselves."</p>
+
+<p>Joan almost laughed as she read it. Then an anxious look came into her
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>She finished her letter.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think I shall be betraying confidence if I let you see it,"
+she said to Lady Alicia. "Cecil has no reserve in her nature. I expect
+she has told everyone by this time all she thinks and feels about her
+engagement."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know that it is such a misfortune," said Lady Alicia. "They
+may suit each other. Cecil wants waking up. This may do it."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I have lost my confidence in him," said Joan in a troubled
+voice. "I would not say this to anybody, but I know you will not
+misunderstand me. He came perilously near making love to me at one
+time. He would have done it in a moment if I had encouraged him. Oh, I
+hope, I hope he will be true to Cecil. I feel awfully afraid for her.
+And she is not accustomed to yield her will to another. He will be
+master. I am convinced of that."</p>
+
+<p>"Love makes all things easy," said Lady Alicia. "Yes; but Cecil's
+letter hardly gives me that hope. It is all so wordy, so analytical."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia read the letter and handed it back in silence.</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked beseechingly at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Do tell me what you think."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know Mr. Gascoigne, and I don't know what to think. It may be
+the best thing for Cecil. I don't think she would ever have settled
+down happily and contentedly in Old Bellerton."</p>
+
+<p>"No; I am sure she would not. She told me by hook or crook she would go
+abroad again in the autumn. I must write and offer my congratulations,
+I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>It was quite natural that Joan should feel a little sore at heart. It
+was not so very long ago that she was assured most fervently that she
+inspired and uplifted Wilmot's soul. Now he had transferred his liking
+to Cecil; and she could fancy from past experience that the passionate
+outpourings of his heart would be very pleasing and convincing to Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>She shook off forebodings which descended upon her, and wrote an
+affectionate, sisterly letter to Cecil. For the rest of the day she was
+distrait and depressed. Lady Alicia wisely left her alone. She knew
+that if Joan wished to talk to her, she would do it.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>In the afternoon, Major Armitage and his small niece arrived in the
+car. It was Sheila's birthday, and she had elected to come and tell
+Joan of it, for, as usual, Joan had won the child's heart.</p>
+
+<p>They all had tea together on the lawn. Joan watched the uncle and niece
+with amusement and astonishment. Sheila was a little autocrat, and the
+Major was as wax in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>She persuaded her elders to play hide and seek with her, and the
+formerly gloomy and solitary man was as agile in pursuing and being
+pursued across the lawn as his small niece.</p>
+
+<p>At last both Major Armitage and Joan refused to play any more, and they
+sank exhausted upon the garden seat.</p>
+
+<p>Sheila surveyed them pityingly.</p>
+
+<p>"You poor fings! I'm not a bit tired."</p>
+
+<p>Then, looking at them with her head on one side, she announced:</p>
+
+<p>"I've a picture of Daddy and Mummy sitting on a seat just like you;
+only Daddy has his arm round Mummy's neck."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Joan hastily; "but we're not daddy and mummy, you see."</p>
+
+<p>"But couldn't you be another daddy and mummy and have a little girl
+just like me?" demanded Sheila.</p>
+
+<p>Joan's sense of humour overcame her embarrassment. She laughed
+outright, then jumped up and chased Sheila across the lawn to the house.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia, from her chair under the tree, looked across at Major
+Armitage and smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"That is what I wish for you," she said. "You must forgive my
+impertinence."</p>
+
+<p>Major Armitage did not resent her speech, as he would have done a few
+months ago.</p>
+
+<p>"I have used up all my affections and emotions over an empty fancy," he
+said in a low, husky voice. "I have nothing left to give a woman now."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," Lady Alicia rejoined. "You have respect and liking;
+that is a good foundation for love. And as I get older, I see many
+happy marriages take place amongst very matter-of-fact, unemotional
+people."</p>
+
+<p>He made no reply, but his eyes followed Joan's figure in the distance;
+he watched her seat herself upon the low steps of the veranda and take
+Sheila in her arms.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia said no more. When Joan and the child joined them again,
+conversation turned on Irish affairs.</p>
+
+<p>Presently Major Armitage said:</p>
+
+<p>"Where do you go to church on Sunday?"</p>
+
+<p>"We have to drive six miles," said Lady Alicia. "We go into the town."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you ever heard of a certain parson called Dantman? He has a
+little church away in the hills, and is a most remarkable preacher.
+My sister told me his story. He is a bit hot-tempered, and got into
+trouble with the priests in the south. I think it was in Cork that he
+drew crowds to hear him; and then there was a shindy of some sort, and
+the bishop gave him this little living and let him know he must accept
+it. They say the people walk for miles to hear him, and he has the most
+wonderful influence over them. My sister says he would draw tears from
+a stone. You ought to hear him. I believe it is as near you as it is to
+us—a matter of about fifteen miles."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"It always does amuse me to hear the airy way motorists speak of
+distances. How do you think we could manage to drive fifteen miles
+there and fifteen miles back?"</p>
+
+<p>"The fat pony would do it in a week," said Joan, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me call for you in the car next Sunday. The evening is the best
+time to hear him; only the car can't get to his church. There is a
+mile and a half walk across the hills, and the scenery is wild in the
+extreme."</p>
+
+<p>"Then what do you do with the car?"</p>
+
+<p>"We put it up at an inn the last time we went."</p>
+
+<p>"Your sister may want to go elsewhere."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I think she doesn't go out in the evening, as a rule. She did come
+with me once; but I shall drive the car myself; she's very good in
+letting me have it when I want it."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you say, Joan? It is very kind of Major Armitage to propose
+taking us. Would you like to go?"</p>
+
+<p>"It sounds delightful," Joan replied. "I should enjoy it very much."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll call for you at half-past five next Sunday," said Major
+Armitage.</p>
+
+<p>"Come to tea, won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle Randal can't do that," said Sheila, shaking her curls
+disapprovingly. "He an' me spread each other's toast on Sunday. I
+couldn't do without him."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we will expect you to supper on our return," said Lady Alicia.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you."</p>
+
+<p>The matter was settled, and when they had left Joan said:</p>
+
+<p>"I love to see Major Armitage with that child. He is almost boyish. It
+is a much better life for him than shut up alone with his music."</p>
+
+<p>"He ought to get married," Lady Alicia rejoined gravely. "I hope he
+will."</p>
+
+<p>Joan did not reply.</p>
+
+<p>When Sunday evening came, Lady Alicia, who had been struggling with a
+headache all day, told Joan that she was afraid she would not be up to
+the walk.</p>
+
+<p>"But there is no reason why you should not go," she said; "and then you
+will be able to tell me about it when you return."</p>
+
+<p>So when, at half-past five, Major Armitage drove up in his car, only
+Joan awaited him. He tucked her up comfortably in the rugs, and they
+started. It was a lovely evening, and as they sped through the lanes,
+bordered by verdant green meadows, and hedges over which the wild rose
+and honeysuckle rioted in lovely profusion, Joan drew a long breath of
+delight.</p>
+
+<p>"This will be a Sunday to remember," she said. "This day week I hope to
+be home again."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you really going so soon?"</p>
+
+<p>There was regret in Major Armitage's voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to go back, and I don't," said Joan, with her happy laugh.
+"This has been such an easy, peaceful time that I should like to
+prolong it; but I am well and strong, and feel able to tackle all my
+small difficulties with a light heart. Cecil wrote yesterday wanting me
+back. She is going up to town, for Wilmot Gascoigne will be there for
+some weeks, and she wants to go about with him."</p>
+
+<p>"I hardly like to ask you, but do you like that engagement?"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose I must. Honestly, I am afraid of how it will turn out. But
+at present they appear very happy."</p>
+
+<p>It was odd, she thought, how few men liked Wilmot. She had never heard
+anyone praise him in a warm-hearted fashion.</p>
+
+<p>Major Armitage was silent for a few minutes; then he said, more as if
+he were speaking aloud his thoughts:</p>
+
+<p>"He is, at all events, better suited to her than to you."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was rather amused.</p>
+
+<p>"There was nothing of that sort between us," she said, "though I dare
+say the village gossiped over our employment together. The world in
+general cannot understand an ordinary business-like, matter-of-fact
+friendship between man and woman."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I heard no gossip," said Major Armitage hastily. "I rarely had
+intercourse with the outside world when I was at home. Looking back
+now, I see it was a mistake. I got wrapped up in visions and dreams, to
+my own detriment and hurt. Now I believe in the wisdom of the Almighty:
+'It is not good for man to be alone.'"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe a lonely life is good for any of us," said Joan
+slowly; "and it is so unnecessary. There are always so many who would
+be the better for our help and friendship, and for whom we should be
+the better too."</p>
+
+<p>"My sister has shaken into me a little of her practical sense. You see,
+since I left the Service and my trouble connected with my sight came to
+me, I shrank from everyone, and after a time, isolation became a habit
+which I could not break. I always count it as one of my blessings that
+your father was brought to my gates and laid up in my house. I think
+if I had not had your friendship, things would have gone badly with me
+later on. And—and, Miss Adair, I don't want to lose your friendship,
+for I have learnt to value it."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's heart gave a little throb. It told her then how much she valued
+his friendship; but she answered very simply:</p>
+
+<p>"You have it."</p>
+
+<p>There was silence between them. The car took them away now from the
+lanes across a wide expanse of moor; then hills appeared, and very
+shortly after they came to a standstill.</p>
+
+<p>A cluster of small cottages round a very dilapidated inn was the end of
+their drive. Major Armitage was welcomed by the landlord of the "Black
+Pig," who showed him a big shed, into which he could run his car.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure an' you'll be goin' to hear the praycher?" he ejaculated. "He's a
+holy sowl, if there be wan on this airth; but a powerfu' scaldin' hot
+dressin' he gives to the people, Oi can tell ye!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan and the Major were not long in starting up a narrow sheep-track
+across the hills. Here and there were little groups of the peasantry
+crossing the rough moorland. The sun was sending slanting rays across
+the hills, touching up here and there a little cluster of trees with
+golden glory.</p>
+
+<p>The stillness of the summer evening made Joan say thoughtfully:</p>
+
+<p>"I always think a summer Sunday evening the most delicious time in all
+the year. We might be away from the world altogether up here—caught up
+to receive a heavenly vision."</p>
+
+<p>Major Armitage looked at her with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"That's rather good," he said. "I do hope you won't be disappointed in
+him."</p>
+
+<p>It was rough walking, but at last they emerged from their irregular
+stony pathway upon a level bit of ground; and there, tucked away in a
+copse of trees and brushwood, with a high cliff behind it, was a tiny
+iron church.</p>
+
+<p>"What an extraordinary place to build a church in!" exclaimed Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"It was built and endowed by a rich farmer. You will see the tablet to
+his memory in the church."</p>
+
+<p>They went inside. It was fast filling, and they took a seat just
+inside the door. The music was not very good. There was a wheezy
+harmonium, and no pretence at a choir. The congregation took a hearty
+part in singing and responses. It was just a very plain, simple little
+building; and John Dantman was at first sight a very commonplace little
+man.</p>
+
+<p>Yet when he mounted the pulpit, Joan saw that his eyes were magnetic in
+their compelling power, and his preaching thrilling in its force and
+reality. He did not rant or rave, he leant over his pulpit quietly, and
+seemed to search and speak to every individual soul before him. He took
+for his text:</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"'Knowing the terror of the Lord, we persuade men.'"<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>Very stern, unflinchingly true, and convincingly earnest was the first
+part of his sermon, but suddenly his voice broke and softened.</p>
+
+<p>"We persuade men," he said; "that is our vocation, we are not here to
+scold, to upbraid, to frighten. We have told you stern facts, that is
+all."</p>
+
+<p>And then followed such loving, persuasive pleading that Joan listened
+herself with a swelling heart, and when it was all over and she came
+out into the soft, summer air, she exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Major Armitage, I feel a burning desire now to exercise a little
+of my persuasion upon others. It is quite true what you say. If we all
+believed earnestly what we profess to believe, we could not live so
+indifferently, and selfishly ignore the needs of those who have not
+grasped the truth. If I were a man! Oh, if I were a man!"</p>
+
+<p>She stopped, a little ashamed of her emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"What would you do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know, the field would be so wide. I think I have wanted
+all my life to impart knowledge, to influence, to take a part in
+moulding the characters of the next generation. Teaching those younger
+than myself has always been before me. I have been distinctly shown
+that my sphere is to be in my own home, in a country village, learning
+lessons myself instead of teaching."</p>
+
+<p>"What kind of lessons?" asked Major Armitage, wishing to draw her out.</p>
+
+<p>"Lessons of patience and endurance and long-suffering with joyfulness,"
+she said in a low tone.</p>
+
+<p>Major Armitage was silent for a moment. Then he said:</p>
+
+<p>"Those are hard lessons for any of us. And very few of us attempt to
+learn them."</p>
+
+<p>They lapsed into silence.</p>
+
+<p>The going down was more difficult in the waning light than coming up.
+Joan was glad to take Major Armitage's offered arm. To her the memory
+of that evening would always remain with her. She had enjoyed every bit
+of it; she hardly liked to acknowledge to herself how happy she was in
+company with the man who walked beside her. From having had a deep pity
+for him, she found herself taking an absorbing and increasing interest
+in him. He never disappointed her in anything he said or did. They were
+very silent on their return journey. Just before they reached Lady
+Alicia's house Major Armitage said:</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid this will be good-bye for the present. I have to go away
+for a few days on business for my sister, and when I return I shall
+find you flown, shall I not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I leave on Wednesday."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you remember me to your father? I wonder if you would send me
+occasional news of Old Bellerton? It would be a great pleasure to hear
+from you."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly I will."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's voice had a little tremor in it.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you."</p>
+
+<p>He said no more.</p>
+
+<p>And then they went indoors, and found Lady Alicia waiting to hear about
+their service.</p>
+
+<p>When Major Armitage took his departure a little later, he looked rather
+wistfully at Joan as he took her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"How glad your father will be to have you back again!" he said with
+emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>Joan laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I think he will. He and I have lived so long together that we
+know each other's ways, and he says he is lost without me."</p>
+
+<p>"But he can't expect to keep you with him always."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not? I don't think anything will call me away from him. I feel my
+life is meant to be in that quiet corner, and I am going to be content."</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her, seemed as if he was about to speak, then shut his
+lips sternly and wrung her hand.</p>
+
+<p>And Joan felt when he had left, as if the sunshine had gone out of her
+heart, leaving it grey and empty and cheerless.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_19">CHAPTER XIX</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>CECIL'S ENGAGEMENT</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>JOAN arrived home to find a good deal awaiting her. Cecil was in a
+fever to be away. She was going to stay with some friends of her
+mother's. Wilmot was already in town; Mr. Adair was not very well. He
+had got wet one day, and bronchitis, his old enemy, was hovering over
+him. Jenny had had words with Cecil, and had given notice. She was
+sullen when Joan spoke to her; and Sophia said that she was determined
+not to stay. Benson, the odd man, had become very slack in his work.
+The garden had suffered from having no superintendence, and weeds had
+grown apace. There had been friction between Miss Borwill and the
+schoolmistress at Sunday school, and two steady members of the choir
+had resigned.</p>
+
+<p>Joan found life bristling with difficulties; but she was her bright,
+capable self again, and tackled everything with a cheery spirit. She
+had expected to find a slack household under Cecil's rule, and so was
+not dismayed in consequence. Upon the night of her arrival, Cecil came
+into her room when she went up to bed, and regardless of Joan's fatigue
+kept her talking till past one o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>The question Joan asked at once was:</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mother's book finished?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Joan, how ridiculous! Of course it is not. Wilmot thinks that
+he must go out to the Riviera with a camera and get some snapshots.
+He says a book of that sort must be prettily illustrated, or it will
+not be attractive. And if—if we are married in November, we could go
+together to the Riviera. I shall never be able to winter in England, I
+know."</p>
+
+<p>"But is the writing of the book finished?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no—not nearly. It shows how little you know about writing a book
+like that! We have done about half. I am persuading him to throw over
+these Gascoigne Chronicles. It is a never-ending task, and he works
+better in town, he tells me. I can quite believe it. The rush and throb
+of life there must stimulate and quicken your brains. This deadly
+country life paralyses one! He and I are thoroughly agreed upon that
+point."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen anything of Banty?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, of course. I was asked to the Hall to be thoroughly inspected and
+criticised. Banty has no manners—she is like a new-fledged schoolgirl.
+She never has a word to say for herself. Wilmot says she has no
+intelligence at all."</p>
+
+<p>"And you are really happy, Cecil?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Joan, I am not overwhelmed with ecstasy because I am going
+to be married. I have seen too much of men to expect much from them.
+But Wilmot and I understand each other, and I shall have the life that
+suits me; that is the main thing. I want you to speak to Father about
+money. I can't go up to town without a penny in my pocket; I may go to
+other friends whilst I am there. Everyone will soon be leaving town,
+and I want to take advantage of my opportunities. I can't possibly make
+my allowance cover my travelling expenses. And I dare say I shall be
+able to get some of my trousseau in town. I suppose Father intends to
+give me that, doesn't he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear!" sighed poor Joan. "I do not see how Father can give you
+money at present. But I will talk to him and see what we can do."</p>
+
+<p>When Cecil eventually left her, Joan buried her face in her pillow with
+determination.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't worry. I'm going to trust. God will guide and provide."</p>
+
+<p>And her sleep was sound, unshadowed by any difficulties or troubles
+looming ahead.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair found he was able to give Cecil what she required, and she
+left home in high spirits. She did not often write, so Joan was quite
+satisfied that she was enjoying herself, and went her way happily,
+helping her father in parish matters, making peace between those who
+were quarrelling, and finding time to send up to her editor one or two
+more short sketches from rural life.</p>
+
+<p>And then one day Derrick appeared. He walked in at luncheon time. Mr.
+Adair was away at a clerical meeting in the neighbouring town, and
+Joan, being alone, was lunching off bread and cheese and salad. But
+Sophia, who was always ready in an emergency, produced two grilled
+mutton chops and a savoury omelette, and Derrick did justice to both.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to desert you, Joan, though you won't have anything to
+say to me. And as you look upon me as a brother, I have come down to
+give you a brother's hint. Have you heard from the Malingerer?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not for more than a fortnight. Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I've been seeing a lot of her. And that rat Motty is going, in
+vulgar phrase, to chuck her!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Derrick, don't speak so!"</p>
+
+<p>Pride for her sister, and hot indignation at such a supposition, made
+Joan's cheeks burn.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you it's true! Why was she such a fool as to get infatuated
+with him? Now don't rear your head and look so lofty. I'm talking like
+a brother. I want you to warn her. Motty is as fickle as the wind!
+You found him out, didn't you? I was pretty sick when I heard the
+Malingerer had taken him on, for I knew it could only end one way. Have
+you seen Banty lately?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, she is away. I have not met her since I came home."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I was asked down for a week-end whilst you were away, and old
+Jossy was in a fine stew. He couldn't get Motty to finish up his
+Chronicles. He has been at them three years, and they never get any
+forrarder. He runs some other book at the same time, and that gets all
+his time and attention. I think your mother's Riviera notes were too
+absorbing; those and the love-making together, and old Jossy spoke out
+straight, and told Motty unless he would stick to his work with him, he
+could go. So Motty packed his bag and walked off for good, leaving the
+Chronicles behind him."</p>
+
+<p>"Cecil never told me he had left his uncle's," said Joan, a troubled
+look coming into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't she? Well, I've seen a good bit of her in town, and I can tell
+you Motty is conspicuous by his absence. She can't understand it, and
+is getting restive. I happen to know that a rich American girl has got
+hold of him, and is running him for all she is worth. He goes about
+everywhere with her, but the Malingerer has only seen them together
+twice. Motty told her when she questioned him about it that she was
+a most clever photographer, and he had hopes of enlisting her in the
+cause of your mother's book. She had promised to give him some of her
+snapshots of the Riviera for it. I don't think the Malingerer quite
+swallowed it. Motty always has been wild to get to America, and I
+believe he'll be on the briny before the Malingerer knows where he is."</p>
+
+<p>"Do stop calling her the Malingerer," said Joan. "She is so much
+stronger now that we hear nothing about her health. Poor Cecil! I do
+hope that he will be true to her. It will break her heart."</p>
+
+<p>Derrick laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit of it. Her heart isn't in it. I could tell that from the way
+she discussed him with me. I should like to get hold of Motty by the
+neck and shake him as a terrier does a rat!"</p>
+
+<p>"What can I do?" asked Joan helplessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Get her home again."</p>
+
+<p>"She won't come."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you get an attack of the 'flu' again and go to bed and then wire
+to her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" said Joan impulsively. "How I wish you would marry her, Derrick!"</p>
+
+<p>Derrick's eyes danced.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think she would have me? You know who I want to marry."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that is past. And just think, Derrick, how nice it would be to
+have you as a real brother! That is the position I want you to be in."</p>
+
+<p>"Your morals are deficient. She is an engaged girl at present."</p>
+
+<p>"I will write to her by this post," said Joan; "but I hardly know what
+to say."</p>
+
+<p>Joan never wrote that letter, for before Derrick left her that
+afternoon, she received a wire:</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Coming home this evening. Arrive six o'clock.—CECIL."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>Derrick was quite relieved.</p>
+
+<p>"They've had it out, then. He was to take her to some gallery
+yesterday. He had failed to keep two appointments with her, and I could
+see she meant to bring matters to a point. I might have spared myself
+the trouble of coming down, except that you're always such a 'sight for
+sore e'en.' Sophia says you're like a breeze in the house; I should say
+you stilled it. I suppose I had better make myself scarce. I'm sleeping
+at the Hall for a few nights. But if I can do anything for you, let me
+have a line before I go back to town. A horsewhipping or a ducking in
+the round pond would be too mild for him!"</p>
+
+<p>"You are thinking the very worst of him," said Joan. "They may have
+drawn closer together after meeting. I hope so."</p>
+
+<p>"Never!" said Derrick with conviction.</p>
+
+<p>Joan drove slowly along the leafy lanes to the station, thinking
+deeply. The old pony would not be hurried, and Joan let him take his
+own pace.</p>
+
+<p>She was wondering if Cecil had been disillusioned, and, if so, whether
+it would be a blessing to her or the reverse. She dreaded having her
+back embittered and disappointed. A rush of sympathy for her welled up
+in her heart. Cecil had gone to London careless, gay, and perfectly
+sure of her future; she was coming back perhaps empty and forlorn. Yet,
+when the train came in and the sisters met, Cecil looked much as usual.
+She was dressed in a grey linen dress, and wore a shady hat with violet
+pansies round it. She was already lightening her mourning for her
+mother. Joan was still in black.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Cecil dear, welcome home! You have returned very suddenly."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; it's too hot and airless in town. I can't stand it; and, of
+course, everybody is leaving."</p>
+
+<p>"Derrick made his appearance yesterday. He told me he had been seeing a
+good bit of you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He is rather nice, isn't he? And knows the right people in town,
+which is a great thing."</p>
+
+<p>They chatted together on the way home on trivial matters. Cecil gave no
+hint of being disappointed or unhappy, and Joan came to the conclusion
+that all must be right with her.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair was away for the evening, taking some festival service at a
+neighbouring church, so the girls had a quiet dinner, and, pleading
+fatigue, Cecil retired early to bed.</p>
+
+<p>One thing Joan noticed, and that was that Cecil did not mention
+Wilmot's name. She had not the courage to ask after him. She waited up
+for her father, who returned about ten o'clock. At half-past ten, just
+before finally bolting the front door, Joan stepped out upon the gravel
+path to inhale the sweet night air. Then she noticed that a light was
+still burning in Cecil's room, and knew that, though she had retired an
+hour and a half previously, she was still awake.</p>
+
+<p>As she went upstairs to bed, she debated with herself as to whether she
+should go to her sister.</p>
+
+<p>If Cecil had anything to tell, night was the best time for her to tell
+it.</p>
+
+<p>After a little hesitation, she went across the passage and knocked
+gently at her door.</p>
+
+<p>There was silence for a moment. The light was being extinguished, and
+then Cecil's voice spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"Come in."</p>
+
+<p>Joan slipped in and felt her way to the bedside in the dark.</p>
+
+<p>She put out her hand and touched Cecil's head.</p>
+
+<p>"Cecil dear."</p>
+
+<p>In a moment Cecil's arms, to her surprise, were put round her neck,
+drawing her down to her, and Joan was conscious that her own cheek was
+touching a very tear-stained one on the pillow.</p>
+
+<p>"I felt I must get back to you. You're always the same, and you'll
+understand and feel for me. It's all over between us. But I have broken
+it off, I'm thankful to say."</p>
+
+<p>A little sob broke her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me, dear. I was afraid of it."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil steadied her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"He treated me abominably, shamefully! I think when he was turned away
+from the Hall, he began to weigh me in the balance, and he certainly
+found me wanting in the matter of pounds, shillings and pence! Then he
+was taken up violently in town by some Americans, who have accepted
+him at his own valuation, and believe that he is a genius. He was more
+and more with them, and less and less with me. They are going to take
+him over to America, and arrange a tour of lectures for him, and, of
+course, he means to marry the daughter. I suppose I have discovered, as
+you did, that he is a gasbag, and has no grit or purpose in him. I am
+thankful for my escape, but oh, Joan, it humiliates and hurts! And I
+feel alone. I miss Mother, and—and—well, I'm desperately miserable!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan felt it all so pathetic that she mingled her tears with Cecil's.
+She asked presently about Mrs. Adair's notes.</p>
+
+<p>"He has really done very little to them. We must get them back. I did
+say something to him, but he says he will not let all his labour go
+for nothing. He says he has been spending his time and brains on other
+people's property, and will not be treated by us as he has been by his
+relations. As a matter-of-fact, I know Sir Joseph paid him handsomely.
+But what can we do, Joan? Could Derrick—?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; Derrick will tackle him," said Joan confidently; "and, if he
+goes to America, we must hope that we shall never see him again. Don't
+worry, dearest. I am glad that you have found him out before you were
+married to him. It would be so awful to be disillusioned afterwards."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose everybody here will laugh at me, but 'I' have broken it off,
+Joan, remember!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Joan, almost smiling at Cecil's eagerness for that fact to
+be known. "I am afraid Wilmot has not many friends in this part, so I
+do not think you will be blamed."</p>
+
+<p>She stayed with her some time. She had never before seen Cecil so
+softened and affectionate, and longed to improve the occasion. Yet she
+felt tongue-tied until, just as she was saying good-night, Cecil said:</p>
+
+<p>"I felt quite thankful that you were at home, and not in Ireland. Oh,
+Joan, sometimes I wish I were good like you! Whatever comes to you
+makes you content and happy, and life is not happy to me. I hate my
+surroundings here; they make me miserable, and this dreadful want of
+money cripples one so. Don't you ever want to break away from it all?"</p>
+
+<p>"Often and often," was Joan's frank reply. "But it is good to be able
+to trust one's life to God, Cecil dear."</p>
+
+<p>If Joan expected Cecil to be a different girl after that evening's
+conversation, she was much mistaken. Cecil was exceedingly irritable
+and exacting in the days which followed. She would not leave the house
+or grounds, and shrank from seeing visitors. She lay in bed late, and
+spent most of her days in a hammock in the garden, complaining of the
+heat, and flies, and other annoyances.</p>
+
+<p>Derrick paid a flying visit before leaving for town, and, though Cecil
+tried to escape him, they met in the hall. He put out his hand at once.</p>
+
+<p>"My fervent congrats.!" he said. "Joan has told me. I never could
+congratulate you before, you know. I admire your pluck. My fingers,
+figuratively, are tingling to be at his throat. May I call on him in
+town and get that book of your mother's from him? I was able to help
+Joan in her difficulty with him, and I'll do the same for you."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil at first received his speech with haughty head and stony face,
+but Derrick's sunny, genial manner always won his cause. Her whole
+demeanour softened; she threw her pride to the winds.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Derrick, I'll love you for ever if you get it from him! He'll
+never finish it! I know he never will."</p>
+
+<p>Derrick nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"You must have someone to do battle for you, and Motty and I understand
+each other perfectly. What a good for nothing scoundrel he is!"</p>
+
+<p>In a fortnight's time, Cecil received a registered packet by post. It
+was the MS. And without another word she put it into Joan's hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't let me see it again. Do what you like with it without asking me."</p>
+
+<p>So Joan had her heart's desire, and put all her spare time to it.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Then one day she received from Ireland a packet of roughly scored music
+and a note.</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"DEAR MISS ADAIR,—I am still waiting to hear from you. I want you to
+try enclosed upon the organ, and tell me what you think of it as an
+anthem. We shall not soon forget the words. Does the music represent
+the force and beauty of them sufficiently? I wish I could hear you
+take the soprano part. Remember me to your father. Music seems out
+of place in this country at present. It is seething with discord and
+hot rage. The memory of our evening walk together is like a far-away
+melody.—Yours in true friendship,—<br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 13em;">"RANDAL ARMITAGE."</span><br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>Joan took the anthem down to the church when her day's work was over.</p>
+
+<p>The music, as she expected, was lovely. First, the crashing thunder,
+then the exquisitely soft and beautiful pleading. Joan felt her heart
+stirred and swayed by its power and pathos. And when she tried to
+sing it, she felt a longing to sing it to some tired, wayward hearts.
+"Knowing the terror of the Lord, we persuade men."</p>
+
+<p>"What a gift he has!" she thought, when at last she closed the organ
+and came through the dusky garden to the house. "And now I must write
+to him. I ought to have done so before."</p>
+
+<p>She wrote a bright, natural, chatty letter, telling him all the village
+news which she thought might interest him; and then she mentioned the
+anthem:</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I can't tell you how much I like it and how much it brings back to
+me! As I hear the music, I shall always see that little Irish church
+amongst the hills, with the ignorant, expectant faces all round us,
+and the wonderful stillness, with the one human voice speaking to and
+stirring our souls. Are you going to have it printed? I do hope you
+will.—Yours most sincerely,—<br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 16em;">"JOAN ADAIR."</span><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_20">CHAPTER XX</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>BANTY'S ACCIDENT</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"MISS JOAN, have you heard the news?"</p>
+
+<p>Sophia burst into the dining-room one morning about eleven o'clock.
+Joan was busy dressmaking. She was not a very good hand at it, but she
+was now, with knitted brows, cutting out a serge skirt for herself, and
+she looked up just a little impatiently at the interruption.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it another baby, or has one of the villagers come in for a fortune?"</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Gascoigne at the Hall has been killed by a horse she was riding!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan dropped her scissors on the table with a clatter.</p>
+
+<p>"Sophia! What do you mean? It can't be true!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is, then. The butcher's boy brought the news, and he has come
+straight from the Hall. They were carrying her in before he left."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's face was absolutely colourless. She stood staring at Sophia in
+horror.</p>
+
+<p>"Banty? She was only here yesterday, and she asked me to have tea in
+the pine wood with her to-morrow! Oh, Sophia, it must be a mistake."</p>
+
+<p>Sophia shook her head gloomily.</p>
+
+<p>"She was exercising a young horse in the paddock, the boy said, and he
+bucked and threw her against the stone wall."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe it," said Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't believe what?"</p>
+
+<p>Cecil asked the question as she sauntered into the room. She had only
+just left her bedroom.</p>
+
+<p>Joan blurted out Sophia's news, and Cecil was stricken dumb for a
+moment. Then she recovered herself.</p>
+
+<p>"It's only a report. She is, most likely, stunned for the time. Is
+Father in?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I shall go and inquire at once."</p>
+
+<p>Joan dashed out of the room, seized her garden hat, which was hanging
+up in the hall, and set off at a quick run down the village.</p>
+
+<p>Bad news travels fast. There were knots of women at their doors; two
+men she met both assured her it was a terrible accident, but knew no
+more; everybody was conjecturing and discussing the event. It was long
+since the quiet village had been thrown into such a ferment.</p>
+
+<p>"I seed two magpies only this morning; I knowed somethin' were comin'."</p>
+
+<p>"'Twas strange her passin' the remark to me only yesterday when she saw
+gran'ma: 'Well,' she says, 'I only hope,' she says, 'I shan't live till
+I can do nothing but sit and smile in a chair,' she says. She be always
+so blunt in her way, but she had a good heart, that she had!"</p>
+
+<p>Scraps of conversation like this came to Joan's ears as she passed by.
+She was determined to get at the truth, and would not even stop at the
+lodge, but pressed on up the drive as fast as her breath and feet could
+carry her. She saw the old family butler.</p>
+
+<p>"She's alive, miss," he said in answer to her question, "but we don't
+know how long she will be. There is complications, they say. We've
+wired for two nurses and a London doctor, and Dr. Blount is upstairs
+now."</p>
+
+<p>"I will call again," said Joan. "Will you tell Lady Gascoigne that I am
+ready to do anything for her if she wants help in any way?"</p>
+
+<p>Then she went home with lingering steps. It seemed so impossible for
+Banty to be ill: Banty, who had always boasted of her superb health,
+and had never stayed indoors in the roughest weather! Joan longed to
+know details.</p>
+
+<p>Later in the day her father called at the Hall, and Lady Gascoigne saw
+him. She told him as much as she knew herself: how Banty was exercising
+a young hunter, and was thrown against a stone wall as she cantered
+round the field. She was picked up unconscious; her head was badly
+bruised, her right wrist broken, but the most serious injury was to her
+right leg and thigh. They hoped now there were no internal injuries.
+The London doctor was hopeful of her recovery, but feared she might
+have to lose her leg.</p>
+
+<p>When Joan heard this, her heart sank within her. If Banty lost her leg,
+she would never be able to ride and hunt again; and that was her life.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>As the days went on, it seemed very doubtful whether poor Banty would
+pull through; and when her leg was finally amputated above the knee,
+she turned her face, like Ahab, to the wall, and refused to eat. "Let
+me die! I want to die!" was her cry.</p>
+
+<p>At last, in despair, her parents sent for Joan. She obeyed the summons
+promptly, but was shocked at the change in Lady Gascoigne, who was bent
+and feeble and seemed ten years older. Tears were in her eyes as she
+greeted Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Joan, you must help us! She is our only child. She won't try to
+live. She seems as if she is stricken dumb. She will not answer us or
+take the slightest notice of anything we say to her. But this morning I
+said, 'I must get Joan Adair to come and persuade you,' and she turned
+her poor eyes round and looked at me.</p>
+
+<p>"'Get her,' she said; and those are the first words she has spoken for
+two days.</p>
+
+<p>"She was so fond of you. Perhaps you may be able to influence her."</p>
+
+<p>"May I see her alone?" Joan asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you may if you wish it. But she seems quite oblivious as to
+whether there are few or many in the room."</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather be alone with her," Joan persisted.</p>
+
+<p>She was led upstairs to Banty's bedroom. A nurse opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>"I think she is sleeping," she said softly. "I want her to take some
+beef tea, but it is difficult."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you let me be alone with her for a little?" Joan asked.</p>
+
+<p>The nurse demurred, then gave way, but asked Joan not to stay long and
+not to excite her.</p>
+
+<p>Then into the sick room Joan went. Banty was lying back on her pillows.
+Her face was sharpened by suffering, her eyes were closed. Joan bent
+down softly and kissed her forehead. Then, as Banty's eyes opened
+slowly, she smiled at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Here I am, Banty."</p>
+
+<p>Banty gazed at her in silence. Joan's fresh, fair face, with her
+sunshiny, dimpling smile, seemed quite out of place in that room. But
+Banty found her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Lock them all out!" she said tersely and sharply.</p>
+
+<p>Without any demur, Joan walked to the door and tuned the key in the
+lock. Then she drew up a chair to the bedside, and seated herself upon
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"Now we are alone," she said.</p>
+
+<p>A flicker of a smile passed over Banty's face. "They've never left me,
+night or day," she said.</p>
+
+<p>Joan put out her hand and took hold of Banty's caressingly.</p>
+
+<p>"And I've been thinking of you night and day," she said quite
+cheerfully. "But, before we have a chat together, do drink this beef
+tea, will you, or else the nurse will be back to give it to you."</p>
+
+<p>Banty raised herself a little on the pillows. Joan tucked another
+pillow behind her, and saw every drop of the beef tea disappear. She
+was not in a hurry to speak, so she waited in silence till Banty said,
+slowly and haltingly:</p>
+
+<p>"They talk over me, and cry over me, and bewail my lot till I feel
+nearly mad. The parents' faces nearly reach to the ground! The nurses
+put on their nurse's cheeriness and talk to me as if I am just born!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan laughed. She could not help it, though her heart was aching for
+the girl in bed.</p>
+
+<p>Banty looked up gratefully.</p>
+
+<p>"Laugh again! I'd forgotten there was any laughter left in the world.
+I've been tied up in this bed at their mercy. I can't—can't get away
+from them."</p>
+
+<p>A rebellious, untamed soul looked out of her anguished eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Joan pressed her hand sympathetically. Then she spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Banty, I've promised not to excite you. I'll talk as much
+as ever you like, but if I'm to come again, I must not make you worse.
+I haven't told you yet—"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you pity me! Don't you say you're sorry for me. I'm fed up with
+that."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't. It goes without saying."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank goodness you can speak in your natural voice!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now, I'm going to be quite natural. You have to get out of this
+bed as quickly as you can. I can quite imagine the prison it has been
+to you. I shall expect you very soon to come along to the pine woods in
+a bath-chair, and then we can spread a rug on the ground, and you shall
+lie on it and throw cones at the squirrels, whilst I make a fire and
+boil the tea."</p>
+
+<p>Banty drew a quick breath. She looked up at Joan with wistful longing.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you manage it for me?"</p>
+
+<p>"You will have to do that. Feed yourself up, get strong and cheerful,
+and send your nurses about their business. As long as you are weak,
+they must be with you. The remedy is in your own hands."</p>
+
+<p>Banty gazed at Joan without speaking; then she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know what Father did when he was last in my room? Crept to that
+drawer over there, and took away my pet revolver. He thought I didn't
+see him. I did. It was my one hope from the time they told me my fate."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'm glad he took it," said Joan stoutly. "You never have been a
+coward, Banty, and you won't be one now."</p>
+
+<p>Banty did not reply.</p>
+
+<p>Then came a knock at the door. She scowled.</p>
+
+<p>"Let them knock! This is the first bit of peace I've had. They had me
+in their power."</p>
+
+<p>Joan crossed the room and unlocked the door. It was one of the nurses.</p>
+
+<p>"I shan't stay much longer, nurse; but the beef tea is taken, and Miss
+Gascoigne is quite quiet and comfortable."</p>
+
+<p>The nurse glanced suspiciously round. Joan looked at her with one of
+her irresistible smiles.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Gascoigne and I are old friends. We wanted to pretend she was not
+ill, and had no doctors or nurses. She is going to get well as quickly
+as she can."</p>
+
+<p>The nurse understood, and wisely gave way. "Ten minutes more, then; and
+you will find me in the little room at the end of the corridor."</p>
+
+<p>Joan nodded; then came over to Banty again.</p>
+
+<p>"It's better to coax than to force," she said. "Oh, Banty, dear, you
+must get well quickly. I want you, and so do your parents."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know what my being well means?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; we won't shirk it. It means, possibly, an artificial leg, a
+stick, and a slight limp; but there's the wide world waiting for you
+outside and wanting you. It will mean no riding or hunting; but the
+country isn't taken from you. You will drive yourself about, and I
+believe a new world will dawn for you, a world which you have never
+entered, and which is very fair indeed."</p>
+
+<p>Banty lay still. Not a word did she say, and very soon Joan took her
+leave.</p>
+
+<p>"Come again soon," was the request.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; and soon you will be sitting up by your open window."</p>
+
+<p>In the hall Joan met Lady Gascoigne.</p>
+
+<p>"How did you leave our poor darling? Did you talk to her about
+resignation and patience? I hoped you would do her good."</p>
+
+<p>Joan shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"I've only tried to shake and wake her," she said; "and I think, dear
+Lady Gascoigne, I should leave her a good deal to herself. Banty has
+always liked being alone."</p>
+
+<p>"But not now. I assure you we don't leave her a minute for fear she
+should want something."</p>
+
+<p>"I think she would like to be alone sometimes."</p>
+
+<p>But though Joan had not talked to Banty of the things she loved, she
+had been silently praying for her the whole time; and, as she walked
+home, her whole heart went out towards her in sympathy and love.</p>
+
+<p>Joan had accomplished what none of Banty's family had been able to do.
+She had shaken her out of her despairing lethargy and had given her the
+desire to live.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Banty's wonderfully healthy and strong constitution stood her in good
+stead now. When once her will was exercised on the side of recovery,
+she began to make rapid strides towards convalescence, and, if she made
+exacting demands on Joan's time, Joan was cheerfully anxious to comply
+with them. She put in an hour with Banty nearly every day, and they
+talked of many things; but for a long while Banty would not touch upon
+her own helplessness, and Joan always fell in with her mood.</p>
+
+<p>As autumn came on, and the days became shorter and colder, Joan felt
+unutterably sad for the girl who would necessarily be so much shut up
+in the house this first winter.</p>
+
+<p>She hated needlework of every kind, she rarely read; indoor occupation
+of any sort was intolerable to her.</p>
+
+<p>"She had much better have been killed outright," said Cecil one day
+when Joan was talking about her. "When the hunting comes on, she'll be
+desperate. There is nothing for her to live for."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Cecil, think how full life is! Hunting is, after all, a very small
+matter."</p>
+
+<p>"Hunting was her life."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a good thing we are made up of different parts," said Joan.
+"Banty has only developed one part of her nature up to now. She has
+still others lying dormant."</p>
+
+<p>"She has no intellect," said Cecil sharply. "Even your partiality to
+her cannot own that."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe she has," said Joan. "Time will show."</p>
+
+<p>The day came when Banty could propel herself in a wheel-chair, and
+after that she was seldom found indoors. Perhaps the worst time to her
+was the day of the opening meet. At first her father said he would not
+go, but Banty urged him to do so.</p>
+
+<p>"As I'm making up my mind to live, the sooner you slip into your old
+ways the better. You go your way and I will go mine. I suppose I shall
+enjoy hearing about your run by and by!"</p>
+
+<p>The people round were wonderfully sympathetic with poor Banty, but were
+all so shy of seeing her suffer, that they wrote their condolences and
+shrank from seeing her personally.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon, Joan's suggestion was carried out, and Banty drove
+herself to the pine wood in the low cart that was now set apart for her
+use.</p>
+
+<p>When she was comfortably settled, Joan produced some needlework.</p>
+
+<p>"Now we'll enjoy ourselves," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Joan, if you hadn't been here, I should have put an end to myself,"
+Banty said suddenly. "I couldn't have gone through these awful months
+without you."</p>
+
+<p>Joan shook her head at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't try to think of what you might have done in other circumstances.
+Everything was planned out and arranged for you."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe it was," said Banty in an awed voice. "Joan, I must take up
+religion. All cripples do, don't they? They always lie on couches, with
+saintly smiles, and their corner is the haven of peace and refuge for
+the rest of the house."</p>
+
+<p>Banty spoke so gravely that Joan wondered whether she were in jest or
+earnest.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to have the religion that will make your life fuller than
+it has ever been," said Joan earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"As full as yours?" queried Banty in a bantering tone. Then with
+sudden gravity she burst out: "Joan, I tell you honestly, I've envied
+you ever since you came to live here. You never go about and enjoy
+yourself; you're half a servant, half a parson, half a teacher, half
+a housekeeper. You look after everybody, and keep them all in a good
+temper, and yet you're as happy as a sandboy through and through. It
+isn't on the surface, for I've watched you closely. How do you manage
+to do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's the realising that you're just doing what you are meant to do,"
+said Joan, "that brings content and happiness to me. I have a motto;
+have I told you it before? Three words: 'Patience, long-suffering, with
+joyfulness.' That's what I aim at. And, may I say, Banty, that I think
+your courage and patience now are wonderful!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, stow it!" said Banty, colouring. "Of course, I show my best to
+you, and, out here in the fresh air, who could be cantankerous?"</p>
+
+<p>Another silence fell on them. Then Joan jumped up and got tea ready.</p>
+
+<p>"What does Cecil do with herself every day?" Banty asked presently.</p>
+
+<p>"She has driven into the town to-day to do some shopping."</p>
+
+<p>"Is she going abroad this winter?"</p>
+
+<p>"I—I don't think so. She wants to go, but I'm afraid it can't be
+managed."</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to think she would be away. She worries you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no, she doesn't. We understand each other perfectly."</p>
+
+<p>Joan led the conversation to other subjects. She never criticised Cecil
+to others.</p>
+
+<p>They stayed in the woods an hour longer, and then, very reluctantly,
+Banty allowed herself to be tucked up again in the trap, and her small
+groom, who had been amusing himself by gathering blackberries, took her
+home.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_21">CHAPTER XXI</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>A CHANCE FOR CECIL</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>AUTUMN passed. To Joan it seemed that her life was very full. Banty
+demanded a great deal of her time, but she did not grudge it to her.
+Talks with Lady Alicia came back to her in which she had been told
+that she might be kept in her rather narrow sphere with the object of
+helping one particular person; and Joan could not but feel that Banty's
+sad misfortune had opened the way for a good many real talks on the
+deep things in life. Banty repeatedly told her that she had been a
+refuge to her in a raging storm, and, slowly and almost imperceptibly,
+Banty was feeling her way towards the real Refuge. But, though learning
+lessons of patience and endurance, and dimly seeing as 'through a glass
+darkly' the glories of the new world opening to her soul, Banty did not
+always exercise self-denial in her dealings with her friend.</p>
+
+<p>Joan had come to her help in a dark hour; then it was Joan's purpose in
+life at present to continue that help and come to her aid at any time.
+When fits of depression seized her, she sent for Joan. When she had
+been cross and unreasonable to those around her, and was in a contrite,
+repentant mood, Joan must come and be her father confessor, and make
+peace with those she had vexed and hurt. When the hunt was meeting
+in the close vicinity of the Hall, and she was driven frantic by the
+hooting of the horn and the baying of the hounds, Joan must come up
+immediately, and sit with her, and amuse and entertain her till she was
+able to regain her fortitude and composure. And Joan rarely failed her;
+but it was at the cost of much effort and self-denial on her part to
+respond so willingly, and Cecil was very wroth at her prompt compliance
+with Banty's unreasonable demands.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil herself, at home, was another unceasing trial to her sister.
+She was angry with Banty for her selfishness, yet failed to see that
+she, in her turn, was continually making demands upon Joan's time and
+attention. She had her black moods of depression and contrariety, when
+nothing would please or cheer her, and, as the weather became stormy
+and cold, she would incessantly grumble at the English climate.</p>
+
+<p>One rainy afternoon, as dusk was falling, Joan came in from a visit to
+the Hall to find Cecil crouched by a dying fire in the drawing-room,
+looking the picture of woe.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, what a miserable room!" Joan said brightly, shaking up some
+untidy cushions on the couch with much energy and then stirring the
+fire. "Why, you look blue with cold! And you have let the fire nearly
+out. Have you been asleep?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know. I have rung three times for coal. I never saw
+such servants, and Sophia had the impertinence to put her head in at
+the door and tell me I ought to have made the coal-scuttle last till
+tea-time! She said she was in the middle of making a cake, and if I
+wanted more coal, I could get some logs from the wood cupboard! I
+really wonder you don't give her notice to leave. She's getting quite
+unbearable."</p>
+
+<p>"I would as soon think of asking Dad to leave!" said Joan, laughing.
+"Sophia is always cross on her cake days, and Maggie has gone out. Her
+mother is ill and wants her. I'll go and get some wood."</p>
+
+<p>She was out of the room and back again in a minute. Cecil went on
+grumbling.</p>
+
+<p>"I've a great mind to apply for a post as companion to someone to get
+away from home. I shall be ill if I stay on here longer. I must get
+abroad. Why don't you help me, Joan? Tell Father I can't, and won't,
+stay here all the winter. I never saw such a benighted place. We
+haven't had a visitor inside the house for a fortnight, at least. My
+bedroom wall is reeking with damp. Haven't you finished Mother's book
+yet? If only you could get it done, Derrick says he will get it taken
+by some publisher friend of his, and that will bring enough money in to
+make it easy for me to go abroad."</p>
+
+<p>"I have so little time to write it, Cecil dear; but I am very nearly
+at the end of it. I should like to sit down and write it now, but I
+promised Father to do some accounts with him after tea. I think I'll
+go out and bring the tea in myself. We won't wait for Sophia. You will
+feel quite another being after it."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil listened to her singing under her breath as she went out to
+the kitchen. It never entered her head to offer to help. She had a
+headache; that was quite sufficient excuse to remain idle.</p>
+
+<p>When Joan came back, Cecil looked up at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Joan, you 'must' help me. You are so absorbed in Banty that you can
+think of nobody else. I will and 'must' get away. You will have me
+dying on your hands if I don't. I woke last night, and could hardly
+breathe. I am getting back all my old breathlessness and my cough."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked at her a little anxiously, but she could not see any
+appearance of delicacy about her.</p>
+
+<p>"You fret yourself ill," she said. "I wish you would make up your mind
+to get through a winter here. Be patient, and we will hope great things
+from Mother's book."</p>
+
+<p>She made a mental resolve that she would work in her room at night. It
+was the only opportunity she had for quiet. She was as anxious as Cecil
+was that the book should be finished, but her days seemed too full for
+any time to write.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>For the next few weeks Joan kept this resolve. She came down to
+breakfast in the morning with tired eyes and brain, but with a
+lightened heart. The book was progressing. And then came the day when
+it was packed off to Derrick. He did not keep them waiting long to hear
+its fate. It was accepted. A few alterations were deemed necessary, and
+Joan had a good deal of correspondence with the publisher over it.</p>
+
+<p>About the end of November she received the sum of fifty pounds for
+advance royalties, and Cecil went joyfully to her father to demand
+permission to go abroad. To her amazement, he refused.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair was not a very strong-minded man, and very obstinate on some
+points. Joan could not persuade him to give way. He had suffered too
+much in the past from having his wife and daughter away when he could
+not afford to send them. Now that Cecil was fairly strong, and had not
+her mother to back her up, he considered that it would be weakness on
+his part to give way to her.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot afford it. You ought to be helping Joan at home. Everyone
+tells me she is wearing herself out. Why should you expect this sum of
+money to be spent on you? If it belongs to anyone, it belongs to Joan,
+who has had all the labour of producing it. And there are still debts
+of ours to be paid. Until I am actually free from debt, I will not
+incur the fresh expense of sending you abroad."</p>
+
+<p>"If the money got by Mother's book is not spent according to her
+wishes, it is abominable injustice!" said Cecil passionately. "You know
+how she wished me to spend every winter abroad. It is why she commenced
+to write, to earn money for our comfort there. And, if the money
+belongs to Joan, I know she will give it to me gladly. When I am dead
+and in my grave, you will reproach yourself. You're killing me fast."</p>
+
+<p>She flung herself out of the room, and went off to Joan. It was not
+often she spoke so passionately to her father. He was much hurt and
+indignant, and Joan had to receive the confidences of both, and try to
+make peace between them. But she could not move her father from his
+standpoint, nor alter his decision. Cecil raged and sulked by turns,
+would not eat, and spent most of her days in bed. In despair, Joan
+wrote to Lady Alicia. She saw that Cecil was making herself really ill,
+and she hardly knew how to act for the best.</p>
+
+<p>In a few days she had Lady Alicia's reply, and it was astounding in its
+force and brevity:</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"MY DEAREST JOAN,—Smooth the creases out of your brow. I have written
+to your father and to Cecil by this same post. I leave for Nice this
+day fortnight, and hope that Cecil will accompany me as my guest.—In
+greatest haste, your loving godmother,—<br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 16.5em;">"ALICIA."</span><br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>Joan received this letter at the breakfast-table. Her father and she
+were alone, and they looked up simultaneously at each other. He had
+been reading his communication from Lady Alicia at the same time she
+had been reading hers.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Joan, the difficulty is solved. I am glad, for I was beginning
+to dread these winter months for that refractory girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it noble of Lady Alicia? I am so delighted. I must go up and see
+Cecil, and hear what she thinks of it."</p>
+
+<p>She slipped upstairs. Cecil was in bed; her breakfast-tray lay beside
+her, but she was still heavy with sleep, and had not looked at her
+letters.</p>
+
+<p>"Cecil, Cecil! Wake up! You can go abroad in a fortnight, if you like!"</p>
+
+<p>Cecil opened her eyes. She was generally very cross the first thing in
+the morning, and had a great dislike to anyone entering her room before
+she was up. Joan's smiling, eager face roused her.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan pounced upon a letter lying upon her tray addressed in Lady
+Alicia's handwriting.</p>
+
+<p>"Here! Read this, and you will have the news!"</p>
+
+<p>Cecil sat up in bed and took the letter.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know why you are so excited. Can't you speak?"</p>
+
+<p>But Joan stood silent, letting the letter tell its own tale.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil did not show any excitement. She read the letter through very
+calmly, and then handed it to Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose she has written to you, too? I dare say Father will object,
+and I am not sure that I should like to go abroad with Lady Alicia. She
+is rather prudish and dull. She says she's ordered to go by her doctor,
+and must have a companion. Why doesn't she ask you? Does she expect me
+to be a kind of maid to her? I shouldn't fancy that."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Joan, "if you don't jump at her kind offer, you mustn't
+expect any more sympathy from me. I really think you ought to be
+ashamed of yourself, Cecil!"</p>
+
+<p>Cecil laughed. Her good humour came back.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I shall accept it," she said. "I would rather go with a
+tinker than not at all. Does Father know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; he is quite willing."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil attacked her breakfast with vigour.</p>
+
+<p>"It's rather short notice," she said. "I must get some things down from
+town."</p>
+
+<p>"Now don't be running up bills! You always look nicely dressed, and
+Lady Alicia is very simple and quiet herself."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not going to be a duplicate of Lady Alicia! How pleased you will
+be to get rid of me!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan bent down and gave her a quick little kiss. "You know it is for
+your sake. I am so glad."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil looked up at her with laughter in her eyes. "You're a trump,
+Joan! But we do not fit together very well. You are always such a saint
+that you provoke me to be a devil!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked at her gravely and a little tenderly. "Lady Alicia
+considers you have the making of a fine woman in you."</p>
+
+<p>With which diplomatic remark she left the room.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>The fortnight that ensued was a very busy time for both sisters. Cecil
+did at times feel ashamed of herself when she saw how Joan slaved for
+her, and the night before she left home she said to her:</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder you don't hate me, Joan! However much you may deny it, I know
+that when I am gone, you and Father will settle down with the greatest
+happiness and peace together. Sophia will thank Heaven she has seen
+the last of me. There isn't a soul here who would care if they never
+saw me again. I think it is this that makes me so bad tempered. Nobody
+wants me or likes me. I feel I am a very big fly in the small pot of
+ointment. The only one who really cared for me and wanted me is in her
+grave!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Cecil, you mustn't talk so! You don't know how I care, but you
+don't encourage me to show you any affection, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I hate all that kind of thing. Some day, perhaps, I shall turn to
+you for what I now seem to spurn. In my heart I know that your view of
+life is the right one, and mine is wrong. But everything will have to
+be taken from me before I shall be content with what you are. My health
+and strength and powers of enjoyment will have to go before I can hope
+to settle down into such a narrow groove."</p>
+
+<p>Joan did not speak; she felt tongue-tied. Her face showed how Cecil's
+words distressed her.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't look so shocked. Perhaps Lady Alicia will work a wonderful
+change in me. Who knows? I may come back to you a perfect miracle of
+goodness and unselfishness. You can hope for it. Anyhow, you're a dear
+old thing, and I'm very grateful for all you've been doing for me!"</p>
+
+<p>She put up her face for a kiss, and Joan had misty eyes as she gave it.
+In spite of all her waywardness, Cecil did occupy a big place in her
+heart.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>When she had gone, the house seemed strangely silent and empty. Mr.
+Adair openly expressed his relief at his younger daughter's absence;
+and, as the days slipped by, Joan found that Banty and the parish more
+than occupied her time and thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Adair's book was published in the new year, and it was a keen
+pleasure to Mr. Adair as well as to Joan to read it through and
+discuss every page of it. Banty received a copy. She was becoming a
+great reader, and though, as a rule, her reading was of the lightest
+description, she took the greatest interest in this special book.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been telling Father," she said to Joan, "that he had better get
+you to finish our ridiculous Chronicles. Would you be above completing
+Motty's leavings?"</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't do it satisfactorily, I am afraid," said Joan. "Why don't
+you try it yourself, Banty? It would be such an interest to you!"</p>
+
+<p>"It wouldn't be the smallest interest to me, except—" here her eyes
+brightened—"to ferret out all the Gascoignes who followed the hounds."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is your cousin now?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is still hanging on the skirts of those rich Americans. If he
+doesn't get engaged quickly to the girl, they will find him out, and it
+will be all 'UP' with him."</p>
+
+<p>A few days afterwards, Banty told Joan that she had been looking over
+the MSS. already written about their family.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, I'm not a writer, and never shall be. Motty has put
+together all the papers and letters connected with us up to 1700; so
+he really has done the worst of it. And I have told father I will
+string together some of the letters and papers since. It is only to put
+them according to date, isn't it? I'm actually getting interested in
+my great-grandfather. He kept a pack of hounds and wrote the raciest
+letters to his lady love. In one he says 'I toasted you last night, and
+found the port a sorry substitute for your sweet lips!' It sounds as
+if he meant to drink them. I dare say his metaphor was mixed, like his
+brains, at the time, for they say he was a hard drinker."</p>
+
+<p>Banty spoke with animation. Joan encouraged her all she could to
+persevere in the task.</p>
+
+<p>"Your father will be so pleased if you can do it, Banty."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall want something to keep me going," said Banty. "I get a sick
+longing to be on a horse again, Joan. It's all very well to talk of the
+glories of the future world; but if I can't ride there, it won't be any
+pleasure to me!"</p>
+
+<p>On the whole Banty was meeting her misfortune with great pluck and
+fortitude.</p>
+
+<p>"I know you think the hunting-field a very poor place, Joan," she said
+one day, "but I can tell you it gives you lessons in discipline and
+self-control like nothing else. It teaches you to bear fatigue without
+a whine, to take a few ugly bumps and tumbles as all in the day's work,
+and to wait patiently half a day, if necessary, when the hounds can't
+find. I've been well schooled in endurance all my life, and it helps me
+not to pull a poor mouth now."</p>
+
+<p>As the spring came on, she grew wonderfully stronger, and could soon
+walk about with the help of a stick. She refused to use a crutch, and
+her nimbleness in moving surprised even the doctor.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very happy day for Joan when Banty asked her rather awkwardly
+whether she would like her help in the Sunday school.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to do something. I can tell them what you've told me. If I'd
+been taught by you as a child, what a saint I might have been!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan gladly gave her a class of boys, and Banty not only developed a
+genius for managing them, but for interesting them; and she very soon
+became quite enamoured of her work.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Gascoigne said rather pathetically to Joan:</p>
+
+<p>"That dreadful accident has given me a daughter of whom I am proud. I
+was so afraid that she would be an unhappy, lifelong invalid. As it is,
+she does more for me and her father now, with her one leg, than she
+ever did with her two! And we never hear a complaint from her lips."
+Which was great testimony for such a high spirited, wilful girl as
+Banty had always been.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_22">CHAPTER XXII</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>HEART TO HEART</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>IT was spring again, but Cecil was not back. Lady Alicia and she were
+now doing the Italian lakes together, and Cecil's letters, though few
+and far between, were very happy in tone. Joan's mind for the present
+was at rest about her. Life was getting easier. The last of the back
+debts was paid, and Joan felt that she could now hold her head up and
+look the whole world in the face. She started out for a walk one day
+with her terrier, in a very happy frame of mind. Her old, discontented
+longings for a larger sphere of influence and work had left her. She
+realised now that there were individuals all round her who were as
+precious in their Creator's sight as those far-away, and she cheerfully
+set to work to find out their various needs. The villagers loved
+her. There was not a house which did not welcome her warmly, and men
+and women besides the children learnt to confide to her all their
+difficulties and troubles.</p>
+
+<p>Crossing the heath, she met an old shepherd who was a special friend of
+hers, and for some minutes she stayed gossiping with him; then, going
+across to a little knoll under some pines, she seated herself on a
+fallen log, and, gazing down upon the smiling valleys below, she fell
+into a reverie.</p>
+
+<p>Her thoughts took her back to Ireland. She had heard from Major
+Armitage once or twice through the winter. He was still managing
+his sister's estate, and the unsettled state of Ulster, with the
+apprehension of civil war, was keeping them engrossed with their own
+affairs.</p>
+
+<p>She was startled suddenly by the furious barking of her little terrier.
+Looking up, she saw approaching her the object of her thoughts, and
+she sprang to her feet with a little exclamation of astonishment and
+pleasure. He shook hands with her with great energy.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, what a marvellous coincidence!" he said. "I had no idea I should
+meet you out here, but my whole thoughts were with you, and I was
+planning an interview with you."</p>
+
+<p>"But why plan?" said Joan, laughing. "You had only to walk up to the
+rectory to receive a hearty welcome. I am astonished to see you. Have
+you been over here long?"</p>
+
+<p>"I came last night. Some business with my tenants brought me. And I
+came out this afternoon to get away from everybody."</p>
+
+<p>Joan was silent. She looked up at him, and then turned her eyes away,
+for he was standing close to her, leaning against a tree trunk, and
+his eyes told her why he wanted to see her. She tried to still the
+throbbing in her heart and veins; she tried to keep a cool, clear head;
+but she was mentally asking herself this one question over and over
+again:</p>
+
+<p>"Does he care for me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I had to think matters out," he went on slowly. "As you know, I lived
+in a world of dreams when I was here before. I lived upon one hope,
+one idea; and when it was shattered, I wished I had been shattered
+with it. I have been through my house this morning, and in every room
+I sought to raise up the ghost of my vision; but it would not come.
+And the strange part of it is that I would not welcome it if it did. I
+buried it when I was here before; and time and reason have convinced
+me that my heart and affection are free to offer to another. The past
+is absolutely gone. You may think me fickle, but from the time I knew
+that she was willing, and rightly willing, to cleave to the one she had
+promised to love and live with, I never had any more desire to win her.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, Miss Adair, I come to you. I am conscious that my
+circumstances and my past are against me; but as you are never out of
+my thoughts by day or night, I thought you would let me tell you so.
+I have come over from Ireland, not only to see my tenants, but to see
+you. I don't want your friendship; I want something more; and I do ask
+you not to answer quickly. I am afraid that you will feel I have no
+right to ask you so soon, that I cannot care deeply enough; but I have
+learnt to care for you so much that nothing else in the world seems
+worth living for."</p>
+
+<p>Joan sat very still. Her heart wanted to answer him at once, her head
+cautioned delay. How could she leave her father? She could not see a
+way out. At last she looked up.</p>
+
+<p>Major Armitage was white and stern, his lips were set determinedly
+together, but his eyes were almost wistful. He tried to smile as he met
+her gaze.</p>
+
+<p>"Well!" he said with a quick-caught breath. "Do you see anything in
+me worth your love? I don't myself, and I'm steeling myself to bear a
+refusal."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" said Joan impulsively. "I can't give you that. I care too much
+already. But I am thinking of my father."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you really care for me, Joan?"</p>
+
+<p>He bent over her eagerly, then took hold of both of her hands and drew
+her gently up towards him.</p>
+
+<p>"Joan, if you care, as I care, no one on earth has a right to separate
+us."</p>
+
+<p>Strong man as he was, he trembled with emotion; but Joan stood very
+still with his arm round her. The moment to her was almost a sacred
+one. Just for an instant her head rested on his broad shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"No," she whispered; "they will not be able to."</p>
+
+<p>Then he bent his head, knowing that he had won her, and his lips
+touched hers, sealing the compact.</p>
+
+<p>A few moments after, he and she were sitting together on the fallen
+tree. His face was radiant with happiness; she was very quiet, but
+deeply, enchantingly content.</p>
+
+<p>"Joan, Joan, have you cared about me long? Tell me when you first
+thought anything about me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," she said, "how can I say? I liked and admired you, and felt
+intensely sorry for you from the very beginning. I was honoured by
+your friendship; but I suppose when it really came home to me that my
+heart had escaped out of my own keeping was when we were walking back
+from that little church over the hills in Ireland. I felt I should like
+nothing better than to go on walking with you for ever!"</p>
+
+<p>"And that was the night I wanted to speak to you. I tried to do so, if
+you remember, but I felt I could not. I was so terribly afraid of being
+repulsed, and I thought it was too soon. I funked putting my fate to
+the test. I cannot believe in my good fortune even now."</p>
+
+<p>They talked on as lovers have done from time immemorial, and at last
+Joan made a move.</p>
+
+<p>"I must go to Father. He will be wanting his tea. I don't know what to
+do about telling him. He often says he hopes I shall marry; but I don't
+know if he really means it."</p>
+
+<p>"May I come back with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course."</p>
+
+<p>They found the rector pacing the drive. He was delighted to see Major
+Armitage again. When Joan ran on into the house to make the tea, the
+Major spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Adair, I have come back because I could not keep away any longer.
+I am afraid you may not welcome me so warmly when you know my errand. I
+want to take away Joan from you."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair drew in his breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, dear! It has come at last, then!"</p>
+
+<p>"Will you give her to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"What does Joan say? But I need not ask. She is a good girl, Major—too
+good to remain single all her life. I believe in women marrying; but I
+shall be lost, quite lost, without her!"</p>
+
+<p>"We have not talked over matters yet," said Major Armitage
+sympathetically; "but when I can leave my sister, I mean to come back
+and live here. And if I did that, could not Joan still keep a good bit
+of her parish work and still help you?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair's downcast face brightened at once.</p>
+
+<p>"Capital! You have your music, and Joan is too energetic to like a life
+of ease without any work to keep her from rusting. I know this, Major,
+there isn't a soul on earth I would like as a son-in-law better than
+yourself. I know you will make my girl happy."</p>
+
+<p>He went straight into the drawing-room, where Joan sat over the tea
+tray with hot cheeks and bright eyes, and patted her affectionately on
+the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been told, Joan dear, and I shall be glad in your happiness. I
+know Major Armitage, and can trust you to him."</p>
+
+<p>Joan's eyes filled with sudden tears.</p>
+
+<p>"He is such a dear, I couldn't help losing my heart to him," she said.
+Then, as her lover came into the room, she brushed her tears away and
+smiled radiantly up into his face.</p>
+
+<p>They were a very happy little party, but Major Armitage did not stay
+to dinner. He was expecting a visit from some of his tenants at six
+o'clock, and had to be home to meet them.</p>
+
+<p>Joan walked down the drive with him when he went.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you come over my house with me to-morrow morning?" he asked her.
+"I'll come and fetch you if I may."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't fling my duties to the winds," she said, looking up at him and
+laughing. "I am going to the school to-morrow at ten, but at eleven I
+shall be free."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I shall be here at eleven."</p>
+
+<p>At the gate, under the shadow of the old yew tree, he took her into his
+arms again.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't believe you are going to belong to me," he said. "What a happy
+man I shall be!"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope I shall bring happiness to you," she responded. "I want to do
+it; I have always thought that you wanted a woman to look after you."</p>
+
+<p>He gave a quick little shake of his head.</p>
+
+<p>"That is not the view you ought to take. I am happy because I mean to
+care for you and to wait upon you and to give you a good time. You have
+always been so busy looking after other people that you have never
+given yourself a thought."</p>
+
+<p>Joan laughed softly.</p>
+
+<p>"I have hitherto gloried in my independence; but love alters
+everything, does it not?"</p>
+
+<p>When he had left her, Joan leant her arms on the gate and watched him
+out of sight, and then she raised her face to the evening sky.</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, God! I thank Thee. Bless us both, and make us blessings to one
+another."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>Before she went to bed that night, she had a long talk with her father.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair, though he still asserted stoutly that he was very pleased,
+had great heart sinkings about the future; and Joan wisely made him
+voice his fears.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not leave you, Dad dear, until the way seems easy. Sophia is a
+host in herself, I know."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Sophia is a capital housekeeper," her father said hurriedly. "She
+will make me comfortable, and I shall not wish selfishly to spoil your
+life, my dear. It is the thought of Cecil reigning here in your stead
+that appals me. I assure you it was an awful time when you were in
+Ireland! If it were not for Cecil, I should jog on pretty well."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Father dear, if I marry, you must remember that we still live in
+your parish. I shall hope to play the organ, and run the Sunday school,
+and do all the club accounts. You will not be left without my help."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adair looked at her very gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"That is a comforting way of putting it; but remember, Joan, if a woman
+marries, her husband and her household must and ought to be her first
+interest. Never let your work come between your husband and yourself."</p>
+
+<p>Joan knew why he spoke so emphatically.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think Major Armitage is a selfish man," she said musingly. "He
+has lived so long without home comforts that he will not be exacting.
+And he has resources in himself, and real work to do; for he considers
+his music a gift given to him to use for the benefit of others. Oh, I
+have already weighed it in my mind, and as long as you want my help in
+the parish, I mean to give it to you."</p>
+
+<p>She sat up late that night writing to Cecil and Lady Alicia.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>When Sophia heard the news, she was not so congratulatory as she might
+have been.</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever will Mr. Derrick say? And I do hope, Miss Joan, that you
+aren't getting a crank for a husband. There be no doubt about it as he
+has behaved very strange. Certainly, M'ria says she has no complaints
+to make after that death occurred. I suppose it did occur?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think I had better tell you the whole story, Sophia," said Joan
+patiently.</p>
+
+<p>And when she had finished her account, Sophia gave a sniff.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we must hope you'll be happy with him, but I consider a fancy
+for another woman, even if it comes to nought, takes the bloom off a
+man, so to speak. Now, Mr. Derrick has never altered from the time he
+were a boy. 'Twas Miss Joan first and foremost, and there was none her
+equal."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Derrick is a dear boy," said Joan; "but Major Armitage is—Oh, I
+can't describe him, Sophia, but he is wound round my heart, and to be
+in the same room with him thrills me through and through."</p>
+
+<p>Sophia could say no more. She looked at Joan in a pitying way, and when
+she was left alone in her kitchen, muttered to herself:</p>
+
+<p>"It's a good thing for me that no man has ever made me thrill. Poor
+Miss Joan be but a child, after all said and done, and 'tis to be hoped
+she won't live to change her mind when 'tis too late!"</p>
+
+<p>The sun was shining full on the old weather-beaten house as Joan and
+Major Armitage walked up to it the next morning.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at it with an absorbing interest. This was to be her future
+home. How little she had thought when she stood there last that she
+would be the means of bringing the waiting house to its fulfilment.</p>
+
+<p>She went back in thought to the words its owner had spoken:</p>
+
+<p>"My house and I wait."</p>
+
+<p>As they mounted the old stone steps, she glanced up at her lover. She
+remembered his determination that no woman's foot should cross his
+threshold till the one for whom he was waiting should come. For the
+first time a touch of jealousy clouded her mind—jealousy lest the
+remembrance of the woman who had formerly so obsessed him should recur
+to him here and now. He was looking straight before him, and not at
+her; but when they reached the big door, he paused, and then his eyes
+met hers and the smile spread all over his stern, set face.</p>
+
+<p>"This is an unlucky house," he said. "Do you believe that the strength
+of our love will break that spell?"</p>
+
+<p>Joan caught her breath, then light and colour swept into her face;
+she slipped her arm into his. "Let me tell you something which has
+just flashed into my mind before we go in. I know the superstition
+about your house, that no luck will come to those living in it until
+it reverts to the Rollestons. Do you know that Cecil and my mother
+discovered that we are directly descended from one of the daughters of
+this house, a certain Gertrude Rolleston?"</p>
+
+<p>"What an extraordinary coincidence! You must tell me the details. I
+have the Rolleston genealogy in my library; we will look it up. But,
+Joan, my dearest, there would be no spot on earth which would not be
+sanctified and blessed by your presence!"</p>
+
+<p>Then very solemnly he raised his hat before he opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>"May the God who instituted marriage bless us both on the threshold of
+our home, and lift up the light of His countenance upon us and give us
+peace."</p>
+
+<p>After that Joan felt as if the stepping across the threshold was
+a sacrament. Certainly, she assured herself, Major Armitage was
+different from any other man in the world. And when she had crossed the
+threshold, he stooped and kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>Maria came bustling across the hall to greet them. She was tremulous
+with excitement and emotion.</p>
+
+<p>Joan shook her by the hand very warmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh, Miss Adair, this be a happy moment to me, and Sophia's loss will
+be my gain!"</p>
+
+<p>"There!" said Major Armitage cheerily. "What prettier or truer speech
+can you expect than that, Joan?"</p>
+
+<p>Then he led her up the stairs to the music-room.</p>
+
+<p>"I have laid the ghosts here," he said. Then, pointing to the
+old-fashioned fireside, he added:</p>
+
+<p>"I used to dream as I sat there alone in the evenings that a woman in a
+soft silk dress might one day sit opposite me and talk and laugh as I
+smoked my pipe. But latterly that woman's face grew misty and finally
+disappeared. Now I see it again, a fair, sweet face, the sweetest in
+the world to me, with deep, true, tender blue eyes and a smile that
+always brings two distracting dimples into play, and hair full of
+sunshine. Don't stop me. I see her clasping her hands round her knee—it
+is a way she has—and showing me by turns her eager, earnest soul, her
+boundless patience and sympathy, her sweet, reverent faith in all that
+touches the unseen world."</p>
+
+<p>"I must stop your rhapsody," said Joan, half laughing but much moved.
+"My cheeks are hot with such flattery. Show me your piano and books."</p>
+
+<p>He did so, and then led her along the corridor to a locked door. He
+unlocked it and showed her the dainty little boudoir, which had all
+been renovated and cleaned and made fit for use.</p>
+
+<p>A shadow came into Joan's eyes as she looked at it. She felt almost as
+a second wife might feel when being shown the belongings of the first.</p>
+
+<p>"You must tell me truly," she said, impulsively turning to him. "Does
+this room remind you of the one for whom it was meant? I don't think I
+could be happy here."</p>
+
+<p>He wheeled round, drew her out of the room and turned the key in the
+lock.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you shall not have it," he said. "Joan, sweetest, I told you I
+had laid my ghosts, but if they are there for you, I will dismantle the
+room at once. There are plenty of others to choose from. Look! I shall
+give you this one over the west wing; you will see the sunsets; and you
+shall furnish it as you please."</p>
+
+<p>He drew her into a quaint octagonal room, with a window overlooking the
+heath and distant hills. Joan knew she would love it the instant she
+was inside, and she was content.</p>
+
+<p>Then they wandered through the rest of the house and made many plans.
+When Joan eventually came away, she said to him:</p>
+
+<p>"I feel I shall be taking all and giving nothing."</p>
+
+<p>To which, of course, Major Armitage replied:</p>
+
+<p>"You are giving me the priceless gift of your own sweet self, the only
+gift in this wide world that is worth anything to me!"</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h2><a id="Chapter_23">CHAPTER XXIII</a></h2>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>THE LUCK OF ROLLESTON COURT</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>THE neighbourhood was very much surprised when it heard the news. Banty
+was too taken aback to congratulate Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know you liked him," she said bluntly. "He has been so
+unsociable and cranky that none of us has seen much of him. I hope
+you'll get on with him, Joan. He isn't good enough for you."</p>
+
+<p>It was a trial to Joan to be constantly made aware of the fact of Major
+Armitage's unpopularity. There is nothing a country village hates more
+than reticence and exclusiveness. The poor consider that if anybody
+shuts himself away from society, there is something to hide, and that
+something is most likely criminal. The rich resent their overtures
+of friendship being repulsed. Major Armitage himself was supremely
+indifferent to it all, but for Joan's sake, he made an effort and
+accepted an invitation to dine at the Hall. It was the beginning of a
+little more sociable intercourse between himself and his neighbours,
+and the fact of his engagement led many to make fresh endeavours to
+know him.</p>
+
+<p>In due time, Joan received letters from Lady Alicia and from Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil's was characteristic of her.</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"MY DEAR JOAN,—<br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I suppose I must send congratulations. I have to readjust my estimate
+of you. I should have said from my lifelong knowledge of you that you
+would have cheerfully sacrificed yourself at duty's or Father's shrine
+and refused to leave your sphere of work. But I am glad for your sake
+that you have been sensible. I, of course, pity myself exceedingly.
+Will Father expect me to slip into your shoes? They never did fit me,
+and never will. But I am not home yet, and 'things may happen,' as we
+used to say when we were small. I am much amused at you and the Major
+coming together. Did I not propose it to you? I hope you will make him
+less uncanny than he was. Of course, you have told him of our descent
+from the Rollestons? You will bring back the luck to his house. He
+ought to be very grateful to you for liking him. I wonder if you are
+really in love. I can't imagine you! You are so sane, so wise, that it
+does not seem to be your role.<br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 15em;">"Love,</span><br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 16.5em;">"Your affectionate sister,</span><br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 27em;">"CECIL."</span><br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"P.S.—I have read this over, and it doesn't sound quite nice. I wonder
+why? But I can't gush over the engagement, for I don't know Major
+Armitage. I can only wish you happiness."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>Joan's face became rather downcast as she read this. She did not know
+that Cecil was sore and bitter since her broken engagement, and angry
+with Joan in an unreasonable way for her present happiness.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Alicia's letter brought warmth and comfort at once. She allayed
+the scruples that were always troubling Joan's sensitive conscience.</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"It is right, dear, that you should marry when you love, and when that
+one, like Randal Armitage, is worthy of your love. Your father will
+be far happier in feeling your future provided for and in seeing your
+happiness. If you were to sacrifice all your future for the sake of
+being for a few years a help to your father, the time would be certain
+to come when you and he would regret it; and I think your circumstances
+will be wonderfully favourable to you."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>Derrick also wrote to Joan.</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"DEAR OLD CHUM,—<br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Hearty congratulations is the conventional phrase, is it not? I
+congratulate him on getting you, and for the rest—well, I don't bear
+him malice, and if you're happy, that's the main thing. I'm going on
+the Continent for a holiday. My respects to Dominie, and if I meet the
+Malingerer, will let you know how she is faring. Adieu.<br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 18.5em;">"Yours,</span><br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 20.5em;">"DERRICK."</span><br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Derrick!" sighed Joan. "How I hope he will forget and marry!"</p>
+
+<p>Yet, though she said this, it was a tremendous shock to her, a month
+later, to get another letter from Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose," she wrote, "your engagement made me restless and
+unsettled. We are now at Lucerne, and, to our amazement, one day
+Derrick walked in. As he has always been one of the family, he and I
+went about a good bit together. We have talked you and the village
+threadbare, and at last, as we had nothing else to do, we made up our
+minds that we would try to follow your example. You see, he and I have
+both been foiled in our first experience, so we can feel for each
+other. He knows I am not domesticated; but I feel I could run a London
+flat and make it a success. And we don't jar on each other. In fact, I
+have a wonderful sense of rest in his company. I know I could help him
+in his work, and am determined that he shall be an M.P. very soon, and
+later on Prime Minister at least. Well, all this rigmarole means that
+we're engaged, and as we've known each other all our lives, we mean to
+marry straight away. I could not face wedding bells in Old Bellerton
+village. Lady Alicia is a trump; she has been as anxious as a mother
+over us. She talked to him and talked to me, and warned us not to be in
+such haste. But we've got her on our side now, so make your mind easy
+over us. Derrick will like to hear what your views are about our match.
+Write him one of your nicest letters."</p>
+
+<p>Joan went to her father, who was as astonished as she and very
+delighted.</p>
+
+<p>Joan herself was honestly and deeply thankful. At first she was
+almost afraid that both of them were plunging into matrimony more
+from expediency than from real love or liking for each other; yet she
+remembered how Derrick had always admired Cecil's dainty grace and
+beauty, and though he had teased her unmercifully, Cecil had never
+resented it, but invariably showed the best side of her nature to him.</p>
+
+<p>But the speedy marriage made her anxious; and she thought Cecil's
+indifference to her home and her father a bad beginning for her married
+life. Derrick wrote to Joan in a day or two.</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I'm doing all there remains to be done. I have lost you for good. I
+want to marry and settle down; and Cecil and I suit each other as well
+as most people, and a good deal better. The Malingerer has died; in her
+stead is an exceedingly beautiful and attractive woman. I shall be the
+model husband, and she will daily be moulded to my will. Joking apart,
+we are going to be happy; but I always and for ever intend to remain,—<br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">"Your old chum,</span><br>
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 16em;">"DERRICK."</span><br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>"I always wanted him as a son," said Mr. Adair, "but I hoped you would
+marry him, Joan. Do you think Cecil will make his home happy?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure she will," said Joan stoutly. "Cecil has a heart and depths
+which as yet have not been reached. She will develop as a married
+woman."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil's marriage was the means of postponing Joan's. She was not in
+haste to leave her home, and Major Armitage felt obliged to go over to
+Ireland to his sister again. He much wanted Joan to accompany him, but
+she steadfastly refused.</p>
+
+<p>"My father wants me. I will not leave him yet."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>The summer slipped by. In the middle of it, Cecil and Derrick came for
+a visit, and the visit was a complete success.</p>
+
+<p>All Cecil's old irritability and laziness seemed to have disappeared.
+She was full of the little flat in town which was going to be their
+home. She was gentle and considerate to her father, very affectionate
+to Joan.</p>
+
+<p>And one day she told her, with a burst of confidence, that she was
+going to make religion a power in her life.</p>
+
+<p>"Derrick is really good, you know, though he never talks about it. And
+Lady Alicia lived her religion every day, like you do. I am going to
+read my Bible every day and say a prayer."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Cecil!" said Joan, half amused, half sad. "I hope you will get
+farther than that."</p>
+
+<p>"I heard of Motty when we were staying in town," said Cecil, turning
+the subject. "That American girl didn't marry him, and he has left them
+and is touring round America with a spiritualist and his wife. He will
+never keep at anything long. It's a great pity, for he has brains and
+is a fascinating talker."</p>
+
+<p>"I am so thankful you did not marry him," said Joan. "I prayed that you
+might not."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how wickedly unkind I should have thought you if I had known that
+at the time. But it has all turned out for the best. Joan, my dear,
+tell me truly, does your heart ever fail you as you think of settling
+down in this small corner of the world for good and all? Won't it be an
+awfully dull, monotonous life?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should have thought so once," Joan responded; "but I have learnt to
+look at life differently. I suppose I used to long for power and the
+sphere for using it, but I am content now. And you must remember I have
+my writing, and my friends, and my parish work, and, last of all, my
+husband. My life will be quite as full as yours."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you must come up and see me when you want waking up; and I will
+come and see you when I want peace and quiet."</p>
+
+<p>And that compact was made between them before Cecil left for town.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Two years have slipped by.</p>
+
+<p>It is a cold, frosty day in December.</p>
+
+<p>In a big easy chair by the fire in the music-room of Rolleston Court
+sits Joan. There is a wonderfully soft and radiant look in her face
+as she looks down upon a little bundle of clothes upon her knee. The
+firelight flickers on tiny, helpless fingers clutching the air, and
+as the mother bends her face lower and moves a Shetland shawl, a pair
+of big blue eyes look expectantly up at her. Such a wee face, with a
+round, sturdy chin and red, soft lips, and a brow that reminds her of
+Randal.</p>
+
+<p>And then the door opens and in strides Major Armitage. Marriage has
+erased the gloomy lines in his face and given him a spring in his walk,
+an eagerness in his voice, and a free and upright carriage. He stoops
+over Joan and gives her a kiss, inspects his son and heir, then sinks
+into the other big chair on the opposite side of the hearth and heaves
+a sigh of relief. The sparkle comes into his eyes as he glances across
+at Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been to the other side of the heath to see the new cottages.
+Young Garton was there, and gave me somewhat sheepish thanks. I told
+him he deserved to have a wife and home; and I told him, too, that I
+had learnt the value of them. Joan, dearest, how few dreams come true
+in life! Yet mine has. I have you there sitting opposite to me, ready
+to comfort, to advise, or to—"</p>
+
+<p>"Scold," put in Joan with her dimpling smile. "And now here is a third
+coming to demand our care and attention. Oh, Randal, I have been
+thinking big thoughts this afternoon. What a wonderful thing motherhood
+is! What an awful responsibility! This little creature in my arms now
+occupying his position as a future citizen of our Empire, all his gifts
+and powers, that will be for good or evil in his future life, wrapped
+up dormant in his tiny brain. And we have the training of him, the
+making of him. I want him to be a great man, strong, purposeful, pure,
+honourable, and high principled."</p>
+
+<p>An interruption came.</p>
+
+<p>Banty, in her rough tweeds, walking with something of her old vigour,
+though with a limp, entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I have interrupted a happy family party," she said brightly; "but I've
+come to see my godson."</p>
+
+<p>Major Armitage pulled forward a chair for her. If his tête-à-tête with
+his wife was brought abruptly to a conclusion, he was too courteous
+a gentleman to allow his disappointment to be seen. Banty was always
+welcome, and she knew it.</p>
+
+<p>After a little time, he left the women together and went off to the
+smoking-room. Joan put the baby into Banty's arms, and the girl held
+him with some delight and a little anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not so used to nursing as you are," she said; "don't laugh at my
+awkwardness. It seems so ridiculous to think of you with a child, Joan."</p>
+
+<p>"Does it? It seems the most natural thing in the world to me. And yet,
+as I was saying just now, he will make a big difference in my life."</p>
+
+<p>"You won't have so much time for your writing or for the parish."</p>
+
+<p>"My parish work seems drifting away," said Joan. "My father told me
+yesterday that he had hardly missed me since I was laid up, for you
+have proved such a good substitute."</p>
+
+<p>Banty looked pleased.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all I have to do. It gives me the excuse of getting out of the
+house. You're a lucky woman, Joan."</p>
+
+<p>Joan looked quickly at her.</p>
+
+<p>"What is at the back of that speech?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing. A wave of restless discontent takes possession of me
+sometimes, when I think that I shall live on in this village all my
+life, doing the same things and seeing the same people."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know. I used to feel the same. I longed to be in the rush of
+life; but I think I have learned to be content."</p>
+
+<p>"What did you want to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"To be the head of some big school or training college, where I could
+train and influence the rising generation. That was my ideal when I
+was at college and when I left it. I did get the offer of being senior
+mistress in an important school, but I could not be spared. It was not
+to be. You see, I wanted big things for myself, and was given small. I
+have been trying to learn to be faithful in the little things of life."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know about little things," said Banty musingly. "I think
+you have done some big things amongst us. If you had not been here,
+I should either have blown my brains out or have become a useless,
+whining invalid. And a good many in the village owe you much. What
+a change you have wrought in Major Armitage! You have a wonderful
+influence with everyone with whom you come in contact."</p>
+
+<p>"We all have influence, Banty," Joan said quickly. "You have a great
+many guests coming and going at your home. You can help others as you
+say you have been helped. Yours is not a small life at all; and there
+are the Chronicles!"</p>
+
+<p>Laughter was in her eyes as she added this.</p>
+
+<p>Banty smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm beginning to have sympathy with Motty. They are endless, perfectly
+endless! I go into the library and shut myself up there as a penance
+when I have been cross to Mother or furious with my maid. I peg away
+at them, and suppose they'll be finished some time; but it is not very
+elevating work. I am not as proud of our family history as father is.
+Oh, I am content, on the whole, Joan. But sometimes I look forward. An
+old maid's life!"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Banty, you are not upon the shelf yet."</p>
+
+<p>Banty laughed a little scoffingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Who would want to marry a cripple? And I don't think I shall ever be
+taken with any man now. I feel a hundred years old sometimes, when I
+see an otter hunt sweep by in the meadows below us, or hear the hounds.
+And then—well, I come back to your verse, which you have practised to
+such success. I wonder if I shall be helped to do so too. I believe I
+shall."</p>
+
+<p>When Banty had left, and the nurse had come for the baby, Joan still
+sat on in the firelight. In thought she was reviewing her life within
+the past few years—the life of an ordinary girl in a country village.
+Yet she would not now have had it different. She started when her
+husband's voice sounded again in her ear.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you dreaming? Shall I play to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Please."</p>
+
+<p>He went to a beautiful little organ worked by electricity, and the full
+soft tones of an anthem of his own setting brought a wonderful hush and
+peace to Joan's spirit.</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"The Lord thy God bare thee, as a man doth bear his son, in all the way
+that ye went, until ye came into this place."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>And then he sang the words, and Joan joined him softly under her breath.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77651 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/77651-h/images/image001.jpg b/77651-h/images/image001.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d405f38
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77651-h/images/image001.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77651-h/images/image002.jpg b/77651-h/images/image002.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ce55292
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77651-h/images/image002.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77651-h/images/image003.jpg b/77651-h/images/image003.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bf6f9bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77651-h/images/image003.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77651-h/images/image004.jpg b/77651-h/images/image004.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..408c6f1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77651-h/images/image004.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77651-h/images/image005.jpg b/77651-h/images/image005.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1311ae7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77651-h/images/image005.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77651-h/images/image006.jpg b/77651-h/images/image006.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e64a52
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77651-h/images/image006.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77651-h/images/image007.jpg b/77651-h/images/image007.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..935ee33
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77651-h/images/image007.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6c72794
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0cd8c14
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #77651
+(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77651)