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She could not be sure whether Everard had gone to London; at the last moment reflection or emotion might have detained him. Early in the morning she had sent to post a letter for Miss Barfoot, written last night a letter which made no revelation of her feelings, but merely expressed a cold curiosity to hear anything that might become known as to the course of Mr. Widdowson's domestic troubles.
Widdowson's eyes fell; his brow was wrinkled. 'He's often there, then? 'I don't know. Perhaps he is. He's Miss Barfoot's cousin, you know. 'You haven't seen him more than once before? 'No. Why do you ask? 'Oh, it was only that he seemed to speak as if you were old acquaintances. 'That's his way, I suppose.
You don't believe me. Say it honestly and let us understand each other. 'I have good reason for thinking that you could explain Mrs. Widdowson's behaviour if you chose. 'Exactly. There's no misunderstanding that. And if I get angry I am an unpardonable brute. Come now, you can't be offended if I treat you as simply my equal, Rhoda. Let me test your sincerity.
The large house was to be abandoned, and as much of the furniture as seemed needful transported to a smaller dwelling in another part of Clevedon. For Alice resolved to stay here in spite of painful associations. She loved the place, and looked forward with quiet joy to the life that was prepared for her. Widdowson's books would go back to London; not to the Hampstead lodgings, however.
At length, about nine o'clock one evening, she came face to face with him. It was in Hampstead Road; she had been buying at a draper's, and carried the little parcel. At the moment of recognition, Widdowson's face so flushed and brightened that Monica could not help a sympathetic feeling of pleasure. 'Why are you so cruel to me? he said in a low voice, as she gave her hand.
In the first-class carriage which they entered there was no other passenger as far as Barfoot's station. He could not resist the temptation to use rather an intimate tone, though one that was quite conventional, in the hope that he might discover something of Mrs. Widdowson's mind. He began by asking whether she thought it a good Academy this year.
The odour proceeding from the bedroom, and that of Virginia's breath, left small doubt as to the cause of delay in giving admittance. Whilst Alice stood bewildered, Monica received an illumination which instantly made clear to her many things in Virginia's daily life. At the same moment she understood those mysterious hints concerning her sister in Widdowson's letters.
It happened most luckily, though greatly to Widdowson's annoyance, that the sister-in-law, Mrs. Luke Widdowson, arrived nearly half an hour later than the time she had appointed.
Barfoot represented to his mind a type of licentious bachelor; why, he could not have made perfectly clear to his own understanding. Possibly the ease of Everard's bearing, the something aristocratic in his countenance and his speech, the polish of his manner, especially in formal converse with women, from the first grave offence to Widdowson's essentially middle-class sensibilities.
Having taken leave of her sisters near the station, Monica turned to walk quickly home. She had gone about half the way, when her name was spoken just behind her, in Widdowson's voice. She stopped, and there stood the man, offering his hand. 'Why are you here at this time? she asked in an unsteady voice. 'Not by chance. I had a hope that I might see you.
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