Miss Mary Martha Crawford (26 page)

. " She brought her hand from Nancy's shoulder and held out the crumpled letter, shaking it almost in her face now as she repeated, "

Doesn't he say here that he is going abroad? Nothing could be more

evident. And . and you mustn't write that letter. " She was now pointing down to the desk, " You mustn't demean yourself any further.

Have a little dignity. "

"Dignity!" Again Nancy's head was shaking from side to side.

"What does it matter about dignity when you are going to lose someone you love? You don't know anything about it, Martha Mary, you don't

know...."

"I do know."

The tone brought Nancy's head to a, stop and they stared into each

other's eyes, and Nancy whispered, "You do?"

"Yes, I do."

"But you haven't known any men, except Mr. Ducat.... Was ... was it Mr. Ducat?"

"Yes, it was Mr. Ducat. Now this is between you and me. I am telling you this in order that you will recognize you are not alone in being humiliated. Mr. Ducat gave me the impression that he was only waiting for my permission in order to speak. And you know something. Nancy? I would have given it willingly last year if it hadn't been for Father and fear of his displeasure. Thank God I was afraid of that

displeasure. It saved me from taking an action that I know now I

should have regretted for the rest of my life."

Again they were staring at each other; and now Nancy slumped in the

chair and, her hands joined tightly between her knees, she began to

rock herself as she murmured, "But how am I to live, Martha Mary? I lo-ve him so. And' her head drooped lower now " I was looking forward to being married. I keep thinking about being- married because because I don't want to end up like Aunt Sophie. I love her but. "

"Don't be silly. Don't talk stupid. You won't end up like Aunt

Sophie.

Aunt Sophie was rejected because of her ailment because of her fits.

" There, she had called them fits. He said they were fits and they were fits.

She shut off her thinking and went on, "The man did not want to be hampered with a wife with an ailment that she'd likely pass on to her children. It's understandable. But you, you are so young and

beautiful and healthy ..."

"And I'll die an old maid right here in this house, in this isolated house."

"Oh, Nancy! Nancy!"

"You can say, Nancy, Nancy, like that, Martha Mary, but I know that will be my lot in life. Anyway you know that no one visits us except the coal man the grocer and of course the doctor ... and Mr. Paine

when someone dies. Does Roland ever bring his friends here? No, he

goes out riding and visits houses but he never asks any of his

gentlemen friends back."

"Pie has no gentlemen friends about here, you know that, his friends are in Scarborough. He has lived most of his life in Scarborough.

Anyway, you know we are in no position to entertain; and haven't been since Mother died. "

"That is what I mean, we are in no position to entertain." Nancy rose to her feet. There was now a strange sort of resignation in her

manner. She looked down at the letter lying on the desk before picking it up and slowly tearing it into shreds.

As Martha watched her she became enveloped in sadness. It was as if

her dear sister had, in the last ten minutes, added ten years to her life. Gone was the young impulsive girl; the person who walked past her was a woman, and she sounded as such when she said, "I can't take my turn with Aunt Sophie today, will you see to her?"

"That's all right, dear. Go and lie down for a while and I'll bring you up a cup of tea."

When the door had closed, Martha sat down in the chair near the

escritoire, and she looked at the fragments of the letter lying

there.

Men were cruel. All men were cruel. Poor Nancy. Poor dear Nancy.

What could she do to lighten her present burden? If she'd had money.

Oh yes, if she'd had money she could have sent her away for a holiday; if she

proves it, it is a polite and heartless dismissal. And remember what Mildred said last night about the French visitor. Doesn't he say here

. " She brought her hand from Nancy's shoulder and held out the crumpled letter, shaking it almost in her face now as she repeated, "

Doesn't he say here that he is going abroad? Nothing could be more

evident. And . and you mustn't write that letter. " She was now pointing down to the desk, " You mustn't demean yourself any further.

Have a little dignity. "

"Dignity!" Again Nancy's head was shaking from side to side.

"What does it matter about dignity when you are going to lose someone you love? You don't know anything about it, Martha Mary, you don't

know...."

"I do know."

The tone brought Nancy's head to a stop and they stared into each

other's eyes, and Nancy whispered, "You do?"

"Yes, I do."

"But you haven't known any men, except Mr. Ducat.... Was... was it Mr.

Ducat? "

"Yes, it was Mr. Ducat. Now this is between you and me. I am telling you this in order that you will recognize you are not alone in being humiliated. Mr. Ducat gave me the impression that he was only waiting for my permission in order to speak. And you know something, Nancy? I would have given it willingly last year if it hadn't been for Father and fear of his displeasure. Thank God I was afraid of that

displeasure. It saved me from taking an action that I know now I

should have regretted for the rest of my life."

Again they were staring at each other; and now Nancy slumped in the

chair and, her hands joined tightly between her knees, she began to

rock herself as she murmured, "But how am I to live, Martha Mary? I love him so. And' her head drooped lower now " I was looking forward to being married. I keep thinking about being married because because I don't want to end up like Aunt Sophie. I love her but. "

"Don't be silly. Don't talk stupid. You won't end up like Aunt

Sophie.

Aunt Sophie was rejected because of her all186

ment, because of her fits. " There, she had called them fits. He said they were fits and they were fits.

She shut off her thinking and went on, "The man did not want to be hampered with a wife with an ailment that she'd likely pass on to her children. It's understandable. But you, you are so young and

beautiful and healthy..."

"And I'll die an old maid right here in this house, in this isolated house."

"Oh, Nancy! Nancy!"

"You can say, Nancy, Nancy, like that, Martha Mary, but I know that will be my lot in life. Anyway you know that no one visits us except the coal man the grocer and of course the doctor ... and Mr. Paine

when someone dies. Does Roland ever bring his friends here? No, he

goes out riding and visits houses but he never asks any of his

gentlemen friends back."

"He has no gentlemen friends about here, you know that, his friends are in Scarborough. He has lived most of his life in Scarborough.

Anyway, you know we are in no position to entertain; and haven't been since Mother died. "

"That is what I mean, we are in no position to entertain."

Nancy rose to her feet. There was now a strange sort of resignation in her manner. She looked down at the letter lying on the desk before

picking it up and slowly tearing it into shreds.

As Martha watched her she became enveloped in sadness. It was as if

her dear sister had, in the last ten minutes, added ten years to her life. Gone was the young impulsive girl; the person who walked past her was a woman, and she sounded as such when she said, "I can't take my turn with Aunt Sophie today, will you see to her?"

"That's all right, dear. Go and lie down for a while and I'll bring you up a cup of tea."

When the door had closed, Martha sat down in the chair near the

escritoire, and she looked at the fragments of the ^ letter lying

there. Men were cruel. All men were cruel. Poor Nancy. Poor dear

Nancy. What could she do to lighten her present burden? If she'd had money. Oh yes, if she'd had money she could have sent her away for a holiday, if she

hadn't been so reckless in her gift to Roland then she could have done something about it in that way. Oh, if only she had someone to discuss things with, someone to turn to for help and guidance. She missed

Dilly, Dilly's homespun philosophy had usually been able to clarify

most troubles, now there was no one.

Yet there was someone she could talk to if only she could bring herself to do it. He had shown that he had her, no their, interest at heart by sending the boy. She saw herself opening the back door in answer to a knock to see standing there a fifteen-year-old boy. He said his name was Clan Holland and he had heard she was looking for a lad to work out of doors and to do heavy chores around the house. She had never had

the courage to ask the outside roan to do any chores around the

house.

"How do you know I need outside help?" she had asked the boy, and he had answered, "Doctor Fuller, he 'tends me ma. There's no field work now and we're hard put to it. It's a five-mile tramp but I don't mind that, an' I'll work hard for me wage."

She had said, "It's a small wage," and at this he had answered, "Well, four shillings a week is better than nowt, an' I'd be grateful for

it.

As I said I'll give you good value; I'm strong. As long as I get me

grub, I'm strong. "

Four shillings! She had paid Nick Bailey only three shillings a week, but now she needed someone badly because she was feeling physically

worn out, and so she had said, "I'll give you a trial, one month. When can you start?"

"Right now, miss," he had answered. And he had started there and then, and since, the whole of the outside had taken on a cleaner, brighter look. What was more, he was clearing the land.

So there was someone she could turn to if only she would allow herself to do it, for hadn't he solved the management of the shop as well? In fact business was better than ever it had been in Lawrence Ducat's

time.

But, of course, she couldn't speaK to him about this latest trouble for this was a private family matter, and there was nothing he could

possibly do with regard to it. So she had best put him out of her mind as a possible source of help and deal with the matter herself. And

what that meant, after all, was simply trying to console Nancy. And so she put him out of her mind while she took a tray of tea up to Nancy, while she attended to Aunt Sophie, while she made the evening meal; but then he was recalled sharply to her attention again when Mildred came in almost half an hour before her usual time, and in such a good mood that her sharp features had taken on a look of prettiness.

And what had caused the change? Doctor Fuller had driven her right

from the town to the end of the lane.

Mildred took off her bonnet and swung it around by the strings and she laughed with her thin-lipped mouth wide as she said, "I find I like him more and more every time I see him. He isn't the dragon you make him out to be. Well, anyway, he doesn't act like that with me."

She went down the length of the kitchen now towards the door leading into the hall, her step was almost a prance, and she held her bonnet in both hands, her arms fully extended in front of her, as if it were an offering. At the door she stopped and, turning around, she put her

head on one side and seemed to muse for a moment before saying, "Do you know, he can be very amusing; he says the most outrageous things in the quaintest way. He came into the shop three times last week."

Again she paused and mused, her chin tilted upwards, but with her eyes directed now towards Martha, their slanted gaze cold and without

merriment as she ended, "You may not have been so far wrong after all about a gentleman coming into the shop and whisking me off my feet.

It's odd how things come about, isn't it? "

Their gaze held through the dim light of the room, each reading the

other's expression, when finally Mildred's attention was diverted by the mewing of the cat rubbing against her shoe. She stooped slowly

down, picked it up and cradled it in her arms before opening the door, and leaving the kitchen.

Martha lowered her head, laid her hands flat on the table and looked down on them. In this moment she was hating Mildred almost as much as she had done their father. and him. But she no longer hated him.

Dear God! Oh, dear God! And Mildred was cruel. What was more, she

was cunning and perceptive. She always saw more than was good for

her.

She raised her head, gulped deep in her throat, then reaching out, she grabbed up the knife she had been slicing the meat with, and so quickly did she bring it through the joint that she cut deep into the top of her thumb.

the spring had passed, the year was well into summer; for eight days in succession there had been bright hot sunshine. The roads were baked

hard and here and there showed wide cracks. The air was heavy and

thundery, and when the clouds did burst it would be a deluge, everyone said so.

Nancy walked slowly up the drive towards the house. She had been to

the main road to meet the post van and collect the letters. Less and less she made the journey now with hope, yet her resignation was in no way strengthened.

As she approached the house she stopped abruptly and looked at it. The centre block looked more sunken than ever;

like everything else it seemed to be wilting in the heat. The front

door was wide open and all the windows too. This time last year she

would have thought how homely, how comforting the whole place looked, but not any more. She hated it;

every time she entered it now she had the desire to turn and run as if out of a trap. She felt so unhappy; in comparison everybody about her seemed to be enjoying some form of happiness. Martha Mary seemed a