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Updated: May 9, 2025
"And there's nobody to look after him our father?" "Certainly there is." "Oh! I'm glad," Helen said, looking candidly at Notya. "We can't pretend to care about him can we? But I don't like to have a father who is ill." "If he had known that " the other began, and stopped the foolish little sarcasm in time. "It is no use discussing things, Helen. We have to do them."
"Let's see," Helen said cheerfully. "Warm things for the journey, and cooler things for when you get there." She made no show of consulting Notya and, moving with leisurely competence from wardrobe to chest of drawers, she laid little heaps of clothing on the bed. "Handkerchiefs: one, two, three, four " "I shan't need many." "But you'd better take a lot." "I shall soon come back."
George Halkett had laughed at the horse, too, and Helen felt a cold resentment against him and Miriam. "Your hair is very untidy, and your cheeks are blue," she said. "Now you're being a cat. We certainly don't miss Notya when you are here. I'm in the delightful position, my dear, of being able to afford blue cheeks and untidy hair. Daniel won't notice them." "No, he's arguing with Rupert."
The road he had trodden in the night knew his great need of her and now she caught his senses, for her eyes had darkened, colour was in her cheeks, and she glowed as woman where she had shone as saint. She did not see his offered hands. "It's Notya, again, George, please." She had a glimpse of Mrs. Biggs peering between window curtains, and her tongue tripped over the next words.
"I'm waiting for Zebedee," she said. John sent for him, and he came, flogging his horse as a merciful man may, and when she saw him on the road, she went to meet him. She put both hands on the shaft. "I set the house on fire," she said, looking up. "I didn't think of George. He was asleep. I had to burn it. But I've killed him, too. First there was Notya, and now George. I've killed them both.
That's a good thing, because I want to say thank you for driving Uncle Alfred and Notya to the station." "That's all right," he said, and added with a sullen curiosity, "Is he the one who's going to adopt you?" "Yes." "He hasn't done it yet?" "I'm not sure that I want to go. George, shall I tell you something? Something charming, a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night I did call you!"
"Wants to?" "I didn't say so, did I? Notya is not to know." "And Zebedee?" "Of course he knows." Rupert was frowning on her with a troubled look, and she knew he was trying to understand, that he was anxious not to hurt her. "I'm damned if I understand it," John muttered. Her lips had a set smile. "I'm sure," she said lightly, "you'll never be damned for that.
"I might be making butter like Lily Brent." "Not half so good!" She ignored that, and went on with her thoughts. "I shall ask Uncle Alfred what made Notya bring us here." She turned and stood, very slim in her dark dress, her eyelids lowered, her lips parted, expectant of reproof and ready with defiance, but no one spoke.
"George," she said softly as he would have passed her, and he swung round and bent and took her in his arms, without hesitation or mistake. "Were you waiting for me?" he whispered, and felt her nod against his coat. She freed herself very gently. "Shall we stay out here?" he said. "No. I have left Notya long enough." "What made you wait for me?" "I don't know," she said.
Samson with a shout and even Notya with a smile, but she found herself unable to turn and make for home. It would have been like letting danger loose on her. "George!" she called loudly, before she knew she was going to do it. "George, George, George!" Her voice, shriller than its wont, raged at her predicament. A dog barked in the hollow and came nearer.
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