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Darrell knew that the new minister disliked and despised Geoffrey Cliffe; he was aware, too, that Cliffe returned these sentiments, and was not unlikely to be found attacking Ashe in public before long on certain points of foreign policy, where Cliffe conceived himself to be a master. The meeting of the two men under the Grosvilles' roof struck Darrell as curious.
For Ashe supposing he, Cliffe, persuaded her there would be no doubt a first shock of wrath and pain then a sense of deliverance. For her, too, deliverance! It excited his artist's sense to think of all the further developments through which he might carry that eager, plastic nature. There would be a new Kitty, with new capacities and powers. Wasn't that justification enough?
Darrell, Mr. Louis Harman, and Mr. Geoffrey Cliffe? She laid an emphasis on the last name, which made Ashe say, carelessly: "You want to meet him so much?" "Of course. Doesn't all the world?" Ashe replied that he could only answer for himself, and as far as he was concerned he could do very well without Cliffe's company at all times.
"It depends on how it's done," said Kitty. Ashe declared that Cliffe was just an ordinary person, "l'homme sensuel moyen" with a touch of genius. Except for that, no better and no worse than other people. What then? the world was not made up of persons of enormous virtue like Lord Althorp and Mr. Gladstone.
The vicar had never come back, and it was reported that he had been sent to the plantations in America. There was no service on Sunday nearer than Bristol. It was the churchwardens' business to find a minister, and of these, poor Kenton was dead, and the other, Master Cliffe, was not likely to do anything that might put the parish to expense.
Notwithstanding what she had said to Ashe, she did believe with a clinging and desperate faith that Cliffe loved her. Had she really doubted it, her conduct would have been inexplicable, even to herself, and he must have seemed a madman. What else could have induced him to burden himself with a woman on such an errand and at such a time?
The long street of Cliffe leads northwards to South Malling; here is a conventicle named "Jireh" erected by J. Jenkyns, W.A. These cryptic initials mean "Welsh ambassador." In the cemetery behind is the tomb of William Huntingdon, the evangelist, whose epitaph is as follows: "Here lies the coalheaver, beloved of his God, but abhorred of men.
Then with a start of memory which brought the blood rushing to her face, she thought of Cliffe standing beside the door of the great hall in the Vercelli palace she seemed to be looking again into those deep, expressive eyes, held by the irony and the passion with which they were infused.
When the ladies had withdrawn, the conversation fell on some important news from the Far East contained in the Sunday papers that Geoffrey Cliffe had brought down, and presumed to form part of the despatches which the two ministers staying in the house had received that afternoon by Foreign Office messenger.
His sole idol was, as he said, intellect, and that was his preservation. Also, the fragile health which was betrayed in every flash of his eye, every flush of his sallow cheek, made Tom Cliffe, even in the two hours he staid with her, come very close to Elizabeth's heart. It was such a warm heart, such a liberal heart, thinking so little of itself or of its own value.
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