LITMIR.BIZ

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no need to be in any hurry now —” whereupon he proceeded to study the illustrations.

      “You know,” he said at last, “I do want her.”

      I started at the irrelevance of this remark, and said, “Who?”

      “Lettie. We’ve got notice, did you know?”

      I started to my feet this time with amazement.

      “Notice to leave? — What for?”

      “Rabbits I expect. I wish she’d have me, Cyril.”

      “To leave Strelley Mill!” I repeated.

      “That’s it — and I’m rather glad. But do you think she might have me, Cyril?”

      “What a shame! Where will you go? And you lie there joking —!”

      “I don’t. Never mind about the damned notice. I want her more than anything. — And the more I look at these naked lines, the more I want her. It’s a sort of fine sharp feeling, like these curved lines. I don’t know what I’m saying — but do you think she’d have me? Has she seen these pictures?”

      “No.”

      “If she did perhaps she’d want me — I mean she’d feel it clear and sharp coming through her.”

      “I’ll show her and see.”

      “I’d been sort of thinking about it — since Father had that notice. It seemed as if the ground was pulled from under our feet. I never felt so lost. Then I began to think of her, if she’d have me — but not clear, till you showed me those pictures. I must have her if I can — and I must have something. It’s rather ghostish to have the road suddenly smudged out, and all the world anywhere, nowhere for you to go. I must get something sure soon, or else I feel as if I should fall from somewhere and hurt myself. I’ll ask her.”

      I looked at him as he lay there under the holly tree, his face all dreamy and boyish, very unusual.

      “You’ll ask Lettie?” said I. “When — how?”

      “I must ask her quick, while I feel as if everything had gone, and I was ghostish. I think I must sound rather a lunatic.”

      He looked at me, and his eyelids hung heavy over his eyes as if he had been drinking, or as if he were tired.

      “Is she at home?” he said.

      “No, she’s gone to Nottingham. She’ll be home before dark.”

      “I’ll see her then. Can you smell violets?”

      I replied that I could not. He was sure that he could, and he seemed uneasy till he had justified the sensation. So he arose, very leisurely, and went along the bank, looking closely for the flowers.

      “I knew I could. White ones!”

      He sat down and picked three flowers, and held them to his nostrils, and inhaled their fragrance. Then he put them to his mouth, and I saw his strong white teeth crush them. He chewed them for a while without speaking; then he spat them out and gathered more.

      “They remind me of her too,” he said, and he twisted a piece of honeysuckle stem round the bunch and handed it to me.

      “A white violet, is she?” I smiled.

      “Give them to her, and tell her to come and meet me just when it’s getting dark in the wood.”

      “But if she won’t?”

      “She will.”

      “If she’s not at home?”

      “Come and tell me.”

      He lay down again with his head among the green violet leaves, saying:

      “I ought to work, because it all counts in the valuation. But I don’t care.”

      He lay looking at me for some time. Then he said:

      “I don’t suppose I shall have above twenty pounds left when we’ve sold up — but she’s got plenty of money to start with — if she has me — in Canada. I could get well off — and she could have — what she wanted — I’m sure she’d have what she wanted.”

      He took it all calmly as if it were realised. I was somewhat amused.

      “What frock will she have on when she comes to meet me?” he asked.

      “I don’t know. The same as she’s gone to Nottingham in, I suppose — a sort of gold-brown costume with a rather tight-fitting coat. Why?”

      “I was thinking how she’d look.”

      “What chickens are you counting now?” I asked.

      “But what do you think I look best in?” he replied.

      “You? Just as you are — no, put that old smooth cloth coat on — that’s all.” I smiled as I told him, but he was very serious. “Shan’t I put my new clothes on?”

      “No — you want to leave your neck showing.”

      He put his hand to his throat, and said naïvely:

      “Do I?”— and it amused him.

      Then he lay looking dreamily up into the tree. I left him, and went wandering round the fields finding flowers and bird’s nests.

      When I came back, it was nearly four o’clock. He stood up and stretched himself. He pulled out his watch.

      “Good Lord,” he drawled, “I’ve lain there thinking all afternoon. I didn’t know I could do such a thing. Where have you been? It’s with being all upset, you see. You left the violets — here, take them, will you; and tell her; I’ll come when it’s getting dark. I feel like somebody else — or else really like myself. I hope I shan’t wake up to the other things — you know, like I am always — before them.”

      “Why not?”

      “Oh, I don’t know — only I feel as if I could talk straight off without arranging — like birds, without knowing what note is coming next.”

      When I was going he said:

      “Here, leave me that book — it’ll keep me like this — I mean I’m not the same as I was yesterday, and that book’ll keep me like it. Perhaps it’s a bilious bout — I do sometimes have one, if something very extraordinary happens. When it’s getting dark then!”

      Lettie had not arrived when I went home. I put the violets in a little vase on the table. I remembered he had wanted her to see the drawings — it was perhaps as well he had kept them.

      She came about six o’clock — in the motor-car with Marie. But the latter did not descend. I went out to assist with the parcels. Lettie had already begun to buy things; the wedding was fixed for July.

      The room was soon over-covered with stuffs: table linen, underclothing, pieces of silken stuff and lace stuff, patterns for carpets and curtains, a whole gleaming, glowing array. Lettie was very delighted. She could hardly wait to take off her hat, but went round cutting the string of her parcels, opening them, talking all the time to my mother.

      “Look, Little Woman. I’ve got a ready-made underskirt — isn’t it lovely. Listen!” and she ruffled it through her hands. “Shan’t I sound splendid! Frou-Frou! But it is a charming shade, isn’t it, and not a bit bulky or clumsy anywhere?” She put the band of the skirt against her waist, and put forward her foot, and looked down, saying, “It’s just the right length, isn’t it, Little Woman? — and they said I was tall — it was a wonder. Don’t you wish it were yours, Little? — oh, you won’t confess it. Yes, you like to be as fine as anybody — that’s why I bought you this piece of silk — isn’t it sweet, though? — you needn’t say there’s too much lavender in it, there is not. Now!” She pleated it up and held it against my mother’s chin. “It suits you beautifully — doesn’t it? Don’t you like it, Sweet? You

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