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Ellen came flying to meet them, in a white serge frock tied with a red sash. "Arthur Alce has come, Jo we're all waiting. Is Mr. Trevor coming too?" and she put her head on one side, looking up at him through her long fringe. "Yes, duckie. Mr. Trevor's dropped in to taste our turkey and plum pudding to see if they ain't better than his own to-night."
It wasn't right of Alce to have treated her so showed an unforgiving nature if only the real story could be known, most likely folks would see.... There was also a mild scandal at his treatment of Joanna. "Well, even if he loved her all the time when he was married to her sister, he needn't have been so brazen about it.... Always cared for Joanna more'n he ought and showed it more'n he ought."
I was thinking only to-day as it wouldn't be a bad plan if you married Ellen." "But, Jo, I don't want to marry anybody but you." "Reckon that's middling stupid of you, for I'll never marry you, Arthur Alce never!" "Then I don't want nobody." "Oh, yes, you do. You'll be a fool if you don't marry and get a wife to look after you and your house, which has wanted new window-blinds this eighteen month.
He looked devout, exalted, as he armed his little bride and watched her sister. "Arthur Alce looks pleased enough," said Furnese to Mrs. Bates "reckon he sees he's got the best of the family." "Maybe he's thankful now that Joanna wouldn't take him." Neither of them noticed that the glow was in Alce's eyes chiefly when they rested on Joanna.
For the first time in his life Arthur Alce came near to questioning the ways of Providence. Reckon it was the last thing he would ever do for her this going away. He wasn't likely to come back, though he did talk of it, just to keep up their spirits. He would probably settle down in the shires go into partnership with his brother run a bigger place than Donkey Street, than Ansdore even.
By Christmas Day things had righted themselves a little. Ellen was too young to sulk more than a day or two, and she began to forget her grievances in the excitement of the festival. There was the usual communal midday dinner, with Arthur Alce back in his old place at Joanna's right hand. Alce had behaved like a gentleman, and refused to take back the silver tea set, his premature wedding gift.
Joanna opened her mouth and stared at her. At first she hardly understood, then, suddenly grasping what was in Ellen's mind, she took in her breath for a torrential explanation of the whole matter. But the next minute she realized that this was hardly the moment to say anything which would prejudice her sister against Arthur Alce.
Joanna was valiant for notions.... Alce had had one glass of champagne. At about four o'clock, Joanna dashed into the circle round the bride, and took Ellen away upstairs, to put on her travelling dress of saxe-blue satin the last humiliation she would have to endure from Ansdore.
Alce a few weeks after her arrival, but a "visit" is not a call, and when at the end of three months his wife still ignored her existence, Ellen made Arthur come over with her to Brodnyx and Pedlinge on the Sundays she felt inclined to go to church, saying that she did not care for their ways at Romney, where they had a lot of ceremonial centering round the alms-dish.
I don't care twopence about fairs and shows, and Arthur Alce bores me." This double blasphemy temporarily deprived Joanna of speech. "If he's only taking me to please you," continued Ellen, "he can just leave me at home to please myself."
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