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Sykes, "whatever" but realising that the time for questioning was not yet, she did what she was told without more words. "Better send for Dr. Parker," said Willits crisply to Miss Philps who had come in quietly. "Better tell the minister, too. Keep the little girl down stairs. I'll be back as soon as I can. Mrs. Sykes, I shall want you to come with me."
The burden upon the girl's shoulders grew momentarily lighter. Miss Philps, with her matter of fact cheeriness, her strength and her experience, was exactly what that house of overstrained nerves needed. "Dear me," she said, "you're all as fidgety as corn in a popper. And no need for it. I've nursed dozens worse than your mother, Miss Esther, and had them right as a trivet before I got through.
"Very well," he said, "make your own arrangements." Immediately, Mary became amiable. She was quite polite to Miss Philps, almost pleasant to Esther. Into the preparations for the wedding she entered with some of her old spasmodic energy. The occasion, she determined, should be a talked of one in Coombe. She made plans, a fresh one every day, and talked of them continually.
Coombe when she was reported to have said to Miss Milligan that going out with Miss Philps felt exactly like a jail delivery whatever that might be! But if Miss Philps was not appreciated at large it was different in her own immediate circle. She had not been at the Elms a day before Esther recognised the doctor's wisdom in getting her. She was discreet, capable, kindly.
Miss Philps drew out her watch and consulted it. "Dear me!" with slight surprise, "it is much later than I thought. Perhaps I had better go up." Esther looked worried. "I believe you had if she hurries at the last she will be terribly excited. Aunt Amy told me she wished particularly not to be disturbed this morning, but surely she has forgotten how late it is getting."
Then she loosened her hair, not pausing to brush it, and, slipping off her dress, wrapped herself in a certain flowered dressing gown. Not one of the dainty new ones, but a gown whose lace was yellowed and torn, a gown which felt like an old friend but which, after to-night, she would wear no more Listen! Was that some one at the door? Only Miss Philps calling good-night.
"What was he like?" "Wasn't he the man that started to run away with Ronnie Philps' wife and thought better of it and got her out of the train at Crewe and put her into the London train that was standing at the other platform and left her without a ticket? Was it Crewe or Rugby I forget which?" "No, no. You're all mixed up. That wasn't Angmering." "Well, you have such funny friends, darling.
She lived in an agony of anticipation, a hell of desire for which a sane pen has no description. Yet no one must suspect that she anticipated or desired anything not the cool-eyed Miss Philps, not Esther, not the doctor, not even Jane. The mask must not slip for one single moment. So far, they suspected nothing; but they were always on their guard, always.
Won't you please get Jane and tie her up her ribbons, I mean? It is almost time to dress." "Would you like me to assist?" asked Miss Philps, looking up from a geometrical pattern. "Oh, thanks, Miss Philps. There are some hooks I cannot manage. But mother will probably need a lot of help. I thought you were with her now." "No. She has not yet sent for me."
She wanted to snatch at it to tear it open, to scream with the relief of the tablets in her hand, but she did none of these things. Instead she thanked Miss Milligan again and proceeded to talk of other things, anything that would do to fill up the short time necessary to conceal the real purpose of the visit so that Esther and Miss Philps would not suspect never for a moment suspect!
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