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But then it was the Rejoicing of the Law and the Sons of the Covenant had treated him to rum and currant cake. He often thought of his witticism afterwards, and it always lightened his unwashed face with a happy smile. The recollection usually caught him when he was praying. For four years after Mrs. Ansell's charity funeral the Ansells, though far from happy, had no history to speak of.
Ansell's eyes dropped toward the gardens, across which desultory knots of people were straggling back from the ended tennis-match. "Ah, here they all come," she said, rising with a half-sigh; and as she stood watching the advance of the brightly-tinted groups she added slowly: "It's ingenious but you don't understand him." Mr. Langhope stroked his moustache.
It was for the god in him, surely, that she had loved him: for that first glimpse of an "ampler ether, a diviner air" that he had brought into her cramped and curtained life. He could never, now, evoke that earlier delusion without feeling on its still-tender surface the keen edge of Mrs. Ansell's smile.
"My only rôle, as you call it, has been to urge Bessy to to try to allow for her husband's views " "And have you not given the same advice to Mr. Amherst?" The eyes of the two women met. "Yes," said Justine, after a moment. "Then why refuse your help now? The moment is crucial." Justine's thoughts had flown beyond the stage of resenting Mrs. Ansell's gentle pertinacity.
Ansell's aid in parrying her incessant interrogations as to the cause and length of Justine's absence, what she had said before going, and what promise she had made about coming back. But Mrs. Ansell had not come to Hanaford.
"You don't impress me with your airs. Try them on people who don't know what you were a Schnorrer's daughter. Yes, your father was always a Schnorrer and you are his child. It's in the blood. Ha! Ha! Ha! Moses Ansell's daughter! Moses Ansell's daughter a peddler, who went about the country with brass jewelry and stood in the Lane with lemons and schnorred half-crowns of my father.
Then the bedmakers began to arrive, chatting to each other pleasantly, and he could hear Ansell's bedmaker say, "Oh dang!" when she found she had to lay Ansell's tablecloth; for there was not a breath stirring.
"I believe so too," Justine said, surprised into assent by the simplicity of Mrs. Ansell's declaration. "Well, then since we are agreed in our diagnosis," the older woman went on, smiling, "what remedy do you suggest? Or rather, how can we administer it?" "What remedy?" Justine hesitated. "Oh, I believe we are agreed on that too. Mr. Amherst must be brought back but how to bring him?"
"I've got my own philosophy," he once told Ansell, "and I don't care a straw about yours." Ansell's mirth had annoyed him not a little. And it was strange that one so settled should feel his heart leap up at the sight of an old spire. "I regard it as a public building," he told Rickie, who agreed. "It's useful, too, as a landmark." His attitude today was defensive.
Ansell's embrace; "but I know one thing: If I had my way I should begin to economize by selling this horrible house, instead of leaving it shut up from one year's end to another." Her father looked up: proposals of retrenchment always struck him as business-like when they did not affect his own expenditure. "What do you think of that, eh, Tredegar?" The eminent lawyer drew in his thin lips.
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