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The other letter was from Windebank, in which he briefly asked Mavis if she would honour him by becoming his wife. Mavis was much distressed. His mere presence radiated an atmosphere of protection. It offered a welcome harbourage after the many bufferings she had suffered upon storm-tossed seas. If she could have gone to him as she had to Perigal, she would not have hesitated a moment.
Then, after half an hour of weary waiting, Mrs Trivett came to the door, which Mavis opened with trembling hands. She was alone. Her face proclaimed the fruitlessness of her errand. "Mr Charles Perigal was out for the evening and would not be back till quite late," she had been told.
Although incapable of feeling, her mind noted trivial things with photographic accuracy a bit of straw on a bush, a white cloud near the sun, the lonely appearance of an isolated pollard willow. Meantime, Perigal had unsuccessfully dived once; the second time, he was under the water for such a long time that Mavis was tempted to cover her eyes with her hands.
They walked for some moments in silence. "I told him all about it; I thought it better," said Perigal presently. "But I never thought he'd cut up rough." "Is there any chance of his changing his mind?" "Not the remotest. If he once gets a thing into his head, as he has this, nothing on earth will move him." "I won't let it make any difference to you," she declared.
Immediately, all thought of self had been forgotten; she had hurried out to send a telegram to Perigal, telling him to expect a surprise to-day. She had confided her dear Jill to Mrs Farthing's care. Perigal had met her train at Liskeard, her telegram having led him to expect her.
The look in her eyes deepened, her lips trembled, her bosom was violently disturbed. Perigal touched her arm. Then she gave a little cry, the while her head fell helplessly upon his shoulder. Mavis was in love, consequently the world was transformed.
The sight of him made her heart beat; she all but decided to turn back to meet him. Common sense again fought for the possession of her mind. It told her that by dawdling till she reached the next bend, she could be out of sight of Perigal, without exciting his suspicions, when it would be the easiest thing in the world to hurry till she came to a track which led from the canal to the town.
She paused. He went on: "It was charming of you to come. It's like everything to do with you beautiful." "There's still time for you to get your train," she said, feeling somewhat mollified by his last words. "And miss seeing you tonight!" he replied. Mavis walked to the factory wondering how many people had seen her talking to Perigal.
About six feet from the bank was a growth of menacing-looking weeds under the water, which just now were violently agitated. "I'll bet anything it's Jill. She's caught in the weeds," said Perigal. "Let me come. Let me come," cried Mavis. "It's ten feet deep. You're surely not going in?" "I can't let her drown." "Let me " "But " "I'm going in. I can swim."
Otherwise, her days were mostly drab-coloured, the only thing that at all kept up her spirits being her untiring faith in Perigal a faith which, in time, became a mechanical action of mind. Strive as she might to quell rebellious thoughts, now and again she would rage soul and body at the web that fate, or Providence, had spun about her life.
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