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I believe she's beginning to understand. She doesn't know how much she understands." "Understands what?" "Your goodness. She loved you for it. She'll love you for it again." "My dear Edie, you're the only person who believes in my goodness you and Peggy." "I and Peggy. And Charlie and the Hannays. And Nanna and the Gardners and God." "I wish God would give Anne a hint that He thinks well of me."
As Majendie declined more and more on his inferior friendships, Anne became more and more dependent on the Eliotts and the Gardners. Her evenings would have been intolerable without them. Edith no longer needed her. Edith, they still said, was growing better, or certainly no worse; and Mr. Gorst spent his evenings in Prior Street with Edie.
Rather against his judgment, he endeavoured to explain, "We simply can't not ask him, you know." "Ask him by all means. But I shall have to put myself on the Gardners, or the Proctors, for the Eliotts are away." "Don't be absurd. You know you won't be allowed to do anything of the sort." "There's nothing else left for me to do."
"I cannot understand your liking to go there so much, when you might go to the Eliotts or the Gardners. They're always asking you, and you haven't been near them for a year." "Well, you see, the Hannays let me do what I like. They don't bother me." "Do the Eliotts bother you?" "They bore me. Horribly." "And the Gardners?" "Sometimes a little." "And Canon Wharton? No. I needn't ask." He laughed.
The Eliotts and the Gardners those are the people who should have been your friends, not the Hannays and the Ransomes; and not, believe me, darling, Mr. Gorst." For a moment Edith unveiled the tragic suffering in her eyes. It passed, and left her gaze grave and lucid and serene. "What do you know of Mr. Gorst?" "Enough, dear, to see that he isn't fit for you to know."
Twice, sometimes three times a day, as long as they both lived, they would have to sit like that, separated, hostile, horribly conscious of each other. Anne talked about the Gardners, and he stared at her stupidly, with eyes that were like heavy burning balls under his aching forehead. He ate little and drank a good deal.
It was not so easy to satisfy the licensed curiosity of Anne's friends. They came to-day in quantities, attracted by the news of the Majendies' premature return from their honeymoon. Mrs. Eliott felt that Miss Proctor and the Gardners were sitting on in the hope of meeting them. Mrs. Eliott had been obliged to accept Anne's husband, that she might retain Anne's affection.
Canon Wharton, and the Gardners, and Fanny. It all came back to her, the words, and the looks that had told her more than any words, signs that she had often wondered at and refused to understand. They had known all the depths of it. It was only the other day that Fanny had offered her house to her as a refuge from her own house in its shame. Fanny had supposed that it must come to that.
Gorst, which would come to the same thing for Anne, but that she would not have Anne without her husband. Miss Proctor could be depended on to take a light view of any situation, a view entirely her own. So the Gardners, as well as the Eliotts, rallied round Mrs. Majendie, and offered their house also as her refuge.
I am afraid he is leading them farther than Theresa Marstone herself would have gone. 'Oh, then, he cannot be the same person. I meant a very different style of man, a cousin to those Miss Gardners who used to be friends of Theodora. 'Ah! I meant to ask you about Miss Gardner and Percival Fotheringham. What! you have not heard? 'No, nothing. What do you mean? 'Married. 'Married! No, never!
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