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Updated: May 8, 2025
Marsworth assisted her; while Cicely took a chair beside Nelly, and talked exclusively to her, in a low voice. Presently Hester saw their hands slip together Cicely's long and vigorous fingers enfolding Nelly's thin ones. How had two such opposites ever come to make friends? The kindly old maid was very conscious of cross currents in the spiritual air, as she chatted to Marsworth.
Of the weary hours which intervened between her meeting with Cicely and Marsworth at Windermere station and her sight of Dr. Howson on the rain-beaten quay at Bolougne, Nelly Sarratt could afterwards have given no clear account.
'Cicely I don't care a brass farthing about Sir John Raine! 'But having once brought him in, I recommend you to stick to him, said Cicely, with teasing eyes. 'And don't go advising young women. It's not good for the military. I'm going to take this business in hand. And she made for departure, but Marsworth got to the door first, and put his back against it. 'Find me the Turner, Cicely.
She hated to feel and know that probably the majority of decent people would say, if asked, as Captain Marsworth had practically said that she, Bridget Cookson, ought to be doing V.A.D. work, or relieving munition-workers at week-ends, instead of fiddling with an index to a text-book on 'The New Psychology. The mere consciousness of that was already an attack on her personal freedom to do what she liked, which she hotly resented.
'It must be grand never to think what you spend. Captain Marsworth was a trifle taken aback by the remark, as Sir William was barely a couple of yards away. 'Yes, I daresay it's convenient, he said, lightly. 'And what do you find to do with yourself at Rydal? Bridget informed him briefly that she was correcting some proof-sheets for a friend, and would then have an index to make.
And all the time, instead of being plain, which of course virtue ought to be, she's as pretty as possible like a little bird. And Cicely can't abide her. I don't know whether she's in love with Marsworth. Probably she is. Why not?
What an extraordinary person Bridget was! What had she been doing all this time? But nothing could be got out of the traveller. She sat by the fire for a while, and let Nelly get her a tray of food. But she said very little, except to complain of the weather, and, once, to ask if the Farrells were at the cottage. 'Sir William is there, with Captain Marsworth, said Nelly.
Sarratt' were an attraction, while Nelly would hang breathless on their gossip of the war, until suddenly, perhaps, she would turn white and silent, lying back in her garden chair with the look which the men talking to her brave, kind-hearted fellows soon learnt to understand. Marsworth came occasionally, and Nelly grew to like him sincerely, and to be vaguely sorry for him, she hardly knew why.
'Hush! said Marsworth suddenly, 'what was that? He turned back towards Rydal. On the shore path, midway between them and the little bay at the eastern end of the lake, where Farrell and Nelly Sarratt had been sitting, were Hester Martin and Bridget. They too had turned round, arrested in their walk. Beyond them, at the edge of the water, Farrell could be seen beckoning.
It was a waking dream, and though she never uttered a word, the animation of her thoughts infused a similar animation into her aspect, and made her almost unconscious of her neighbours. Captain Marsworth made several attempts to win her attention before she heard him. 'Yes. She turned at last an absent glance upon him. 'Miss Farrell talks of our all going over to the hospital after dinner.
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