Then she turned round and went up the uneven road between the dark little houses in the terrace. Only one house still remained lighted downstairs, though the upper blinds were nearly all illuminated from within. Caroline's eyes were fixed on that one house as she went along, and without allowing herself time to think she opened the little iron gate. Then she paused a moment, glancing up towards the attic bedroom where the woman with whom G.o.dfrey lodged was already taking off her tightly curled fringe, and the uncompromising corsets in which she barricaded herself during the waking hours.

With a long knowledge of Thorhaven ways Caroline gently turned the front-door handle, and was not surprised to find the door left on the latch against G.o.dfrey's return. She entered very quietly, tip-toeing down the pa.s.sage, and went straight into the front room where stood lamp, kettle and other preparations for a light meal.

Caroline breathed hard as she reached the middle of the room, experiencing the odd sense of having been followed by unknown dangers which children know when they run down a long stairway in the dark.

But here she was safe. The lamp--the chair--newspaper--the little meal set ready--all rea.s.sured her. Yet she was still standing, peering bright-eyed here and there, when a quick step sounded outside, and the next minute G.o.dfrey hurried into the room. "You, here!" he said, staring at her, greatly startled. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." She moved back towards the fireplace. . . . He had not kissed her; he had not even held out his hand. "I aren't going to stop," she said in a low tone. "I only wanted to know if--if your wedding was really broken off for the reason they said. I felt as if I must know. I--I thought perhaps she'd heard something about you and me."

"How should she hear anything?" he said. "The poor girl is ill enough, as anybody can see. But she would come to this rotten concert to-night in spite of all Miss Panton and I could say. She seems unable to keep quiet." He paused and added jerkily: "I suppose you know we were to have been married to-day?"

"Yes." Caroline felt the room swim round her, but she clutched the mantelpiece and kept quiet.

"I came for a couple of umbrellas. She and Miss Panton are waiting under shelter in the hall. I can't stay." He spoke abruptly, uneasily.

"Oh, I won't keep you." She moved a step or two forward and swayed a little, so that he was obliged to catch hold of her by the arm. The next second he was clasping her close while they looked into each other's eyes with a burning curiosity that must at all costs be satisfied. "Do you love me still? Do you love me still?" And yet there was absolute silence in the room while the question was asked and answered.

"Oh, I don't mind now," sobbed Caroline. "I don't mind now. It was only when I thought----"

"Hush!" said G.o.dfrey, moving away. "What's that?"

"It sounds like Miss Armitage coming down," said Caroline, hurrying towards the door. "I'll slip out as quickly as I----" She drew back.

"Oh!" Then pulled herself together as the landlady in curled fringe and long grey ulster entered the room, pr.i.m.m.i.n.g long, thin lips.

"Oh! Good evening, Miss Raby," said the woman. "I'm sorry if I intrude. I heard voices down below and I didn't know who it might be.

I wasn't aware, Mr. Wilson, you had visitors."

"No more have I," said G.o.dfrey lightly. "Miss Raby has just come with a message from Miss Wilson. I suppose you can't lend her an umbrella, Miss Armitage? I have to hurry away to the promenade with both mine.

Miss Temple and Miss Panton are waiting for me there." He turned to Caroline. "I'm afraid I must hurry away. Good night."

As he went off. Miss Armitage said somewhat grudgingly: "If you wait a minute, I dare say I can find you an old umbrella some visitors left here in the summer."

"Please don't bother. I'm neither sugar nor salt," said Caroline pleasantly. "Good night, Miss Armitage."

And her happy tone was not all put on; because though the tangle and bitterness would come back again before the morning, she could realize nothing in the world now but the triumphant answer to that question she had wanted to ask during all those hours when she looked at the waves without seeing them and heard their moaning only inside her heart.

_Chapter XVIII_

_Uprooting_

Mrs. Bradford and Miss Ethel came out of the Cottage and walked through the garden in which--on so many windy, sunshiny mornings--they had done a little weeding or planting before they went to shop in the long street, where everybody knew them and everybody treated them with respect. "Yes, Miss Wilson. I'll be sure to let you have the middle cut, ma'am. Beautiful day for the time of year." But now there was a "Take it or leave it" att.i.tude which grated very much on Miss Ethel's susceptibilities as she gave her small orders, and she felt thankful there was no shopping to be done on this particular morning. All the same, the errand on which she actually was bent made the way as painful to her as if she had been treading on sharp stones.

"I think G.o.dfrey might have gone over the house with us, as he promised, instead of just leaving the key," she said.

"Did Caroline take the key in? I suppose there was no message?" said Mrs. Bradford.

"No: she said not. I asked her." Miss Ethel paused. "I thought there was something rather funny in her manner."

"What! You don't think there is anything in what the Grahams said?"

exclaimed Mrs. Bradford, speaking far more alertly than usual.

"Of course I don't," said Miss Ethel.

"But Mr. Graham is sure he saw G.o.dfrey go up to Caroline at the Gala on the promenade the minute our backs were turned. It was when he went back to buy those air-balloons for the children at the Home and he happened to look round."

"Well, what is there in that? I don't say he is by any means my ideal of a young man," said Miss Ethel. Then she added after a pause: "You must not dream of mentioning the subject to Caroline. It is not our affair."

They walked a few paces in silence, aware that they could not afford to send Caroline away even if she were a bad girl, and yet shamed within themselves by the knowledge.

"The Grahams seemed to think G.o.dfrey has had serious money losses,"

remarked Mrs. Bradford at last. "Lucky he had Laura's money to fall back on."

"Well, I think she is lucky in having him to make the most of her capital," said Miss Ethel. "He has a wonderful head for business. Any difficulties that he may have will be only temporary." They were both talking without heeding particularly what they said, nervously engrossed by the errand on which they were bent.

But at last they turned the corner of Emerald Avenue, and the blank fact had to be faced. "That is our house, then. Number fifteen," said Miss Ethel.

So they went through the little iron gate, and an old man came hobbling across the street to speak to them. "Good morning, ladies," he said in a high trembling voice. "I hear you're going to live here. I hear my darter's a-going to have you for a neighbour. Well! well! Who'd a-thought it?"

His intention was kindly, but his manner showed a sort of triumph underneath: it was in some way gratifying to him that Miss Ethel, who used to give him tobacco and other little comforts, had come down to the same level as his daughter. Not that he had received anything lately, because Miss Ethel had nothing to give, while his son-in-law made good wages and his daughter let rooms. At any rate Miss Ethel missed the power to give far more than he missed the tobacco; and that from no desire to patronize--though perhaps she did like the gratifying glow of that feeling a little--but because of the real goodness and generosity at the bottom of her nature.

"I'm sure we shall be glad to have such good neighbours," she said pleasantly.

"Yes, yes. My darter's family wants for nothing. They've gotten one of these 'ere gramophones an all," chuckled the old man. "You'll hear it through the wall and it'll mebbe cheer you up if you feel dowly.

But it's hard moving at your time of life."

Then he went off, chuckling and muttering to himself, and Mrs. Bradford and Miss Ethel walked up the tiny path to the house which was to be their home for the rest of their lives. But before they reached the door it opened from within, and there stood Laura Temple. She was smiling, and yet her kind eyes were bright with tears which she could scarcely keep from falling--for the two ageing women looked somehow so forlorn in the bright sunshine on the threshold of all this strangeness. But after the briefest pause Miss Ethel relieved the situation by saying briskly: "So you have opened the windows. Now that was good of you."

"Oh, Nanty did that. She's here, too," said Laura. Then they all went through the narrow pa.s.sage into the front room.

"There is only one corner where I can have my chair," said Mrs.

Bradford immediately. "Laura dear, those who lead an active life can't understand how important it is for anyone like me to have a chair in the right place. But you have not been well yourself. I can quite understand your not wanting to go away on a honeymoon when you are not feeling well. I shall never forget having a bilious attack on my own honeymoon. I would always recommend a small medicine chest as part of the wedding outfit--sore-throat remedies and gregory powder, and so on.

My dear husband said that, so far as he was concerned, biliousness did not destroy romance; but there are bridegrooms and bridegrooms, and you never know until----"

"We'd better begin measuring the floor," interposed Miss Ethel uneasily, anxious to cut short this unusual loquacity on the part of Mrs. Bradford, which she knew to be caused by the general upset of looking forward to an entire change of place and routine. "Don't you think the old dining-room carpet will do very well here?"

She opened the room door suddenly to discover Miss Panton just outside suppressing her emotion with a handkerchief pressed to her lips. Now she was obliged to let it finally escape in a sort of whoop. "Oh!

Excuse me. I can't help it! It's the thought of you here," she said excitedly. "I know silence is golden, but there are tibes---- And to see Miss Ethel going round on her hands and dees with a tape beasure as if it was only an ordinary spring cleaning----" Never had the catarrh been so marked and so marked in its effects on her m's and n's.

"Nonsense! We shall be quite comfortable here and much less work to do. Thousands of richer people than ourselves are having to move into smaller houses," said Miss Ethel; but she was touched all the same.

"I'm not sure my chair will stand in that corner," said Mrs. Bradford, going back to her great preoccupation. "I must measure it. I do wish I had it here."

"I can easily run and get the measurements," said Laura.

"You're sure it won't upset you," said Miss Panton. "You know you ought to take care."

"Of course not," said Laura. "I'm nearly all right again."