all roads lead to calvary-第38章

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een　wonderful。　　As　for　herself；　there　were　periods　when　she　hadn't　the　faintest　idea　about　what　she　was　talking。

Sometimes　Mrs。　Phillips；　called　away　by　domestic　duty；　would　leave　them；　returning　full　of　excuses　just　as　they　had　succeeded　in　forgetting　her。　　It　was　evident　she　was　under　the　impression　that　her　presence　was　useful　to　them；　making　it　easier　for　them　to　open　up　their　minds　to　one　another。

〃Don't　you　be　put　off　by　his　seeming　a　bit　unresponsive；〃　Mrs。　Phillips　would　explain。　　〃He's　shy　with　women。　　What　I'm　trying　to　do　is　to　make　him　feel　you　are　one　of　the　family。〃

〃And　don't　you　take　any　notice　of　me；〃　further　explained　the　good　woman；　〃when　I　seem　to　be　in　opposition；　like。　　I　chip　in　now　and　then　on　purpose；　just　to　keep　the　ball　rolling。　　It　stirs　him　up；　a　bit　of　contradictoriness。　　You　have　to　live　with　a　man　before　you　understand　him。〃

One　morning　Joan　received　a　letter　from　Phillips；　marked　immediate。　He　informed　her　that　his　brain　was　becoming　addled。　　He　intended　that　afternoon　to　give　it　a　draught　of　fresh　air。　　He　would　be　at　the　Robin　Hood　gate　in　Richmond　Park　at　three　o'clock。　　Perhaps　the　gods　would　be　good　to　him。　　He　would　wait　there　for　half　an　hour　to　give　them　a　chance；　anyway。

She　slipped　the　letter　unconsciously　into　the　bosom　of　her　dress；　and　sat　looking　out　of　the　window。　　It　promised　to　be　a　glorious　day；　and　London　was　stifling　and　gritty。　　Surely　no　one　but　an　unwholesome…minded　prude　could　jib　at　a　walk　across　a　park。　　Mrs。　Phillips　would　be　delighted　to　hear　that　she　had　gone。　　For　the　matter　of　that；　she　would　tell　herwhen　next　they　met。

Phillips　must　have　seen　her　getting　off　the　bus；　for　he　came　forward　at　once　from　the　other　side　of　the　gate；　his　face　radiant　with　boyish　delight。　　A　young　man　and　woman；　entering　the　park　at　the　same　time；　looked　at　them　and　smiled　sympathetically。

Joan　had　no　idea　the　park　contained　such　pleasant　by…ways。　　But　for　an　occasional　perambulator　they　might　have　been　in　the　heart　of　the　country。　　The　fallow　deer　stole　near　to　them　with　noiseless　feet；　regarding　them　out　of　their　large　gentle　eyes　with　looks　of　comradeship。　　They　paused　and　listened　while　a　missal　thrush　from　a　branch　close　to　them　poured　out　his　song　of　hope　and　courage。　　From　quite　a　long　way　off　they　could　still　hear　his　clear　voice　singing；　telling　to　the　young　and　brave　his　gallant　message。　　It　seemed　too　beautiful　a　day　for　politics。　　After　all；　politicsone　has　them　always　with　one；　but　the　spring　passes。

He　saw　her　on　to　a　bus　at　Kingston；　and　himself　went　back　by　train。　They　agreed　they　would　not　mention　it　to　Mrs。　Phillips。　　Not　that　she　would　have　minded。　　The　danger　was　that　she　would　want　to　come；　too；　honestly　thinking　thereby　to　complete　their　happiness。　　It　seemed　to　be　tacitly　understood　there　would　be　other　such　excursions。

The　summer　was　propitious。　　Phillips　knew　his　London　well；　and　how　to　get　away　from　it。　　There　were　winding　lanes　in　Hertfordshire；　Surrey　hills　and　commons；　deep；　cool；　bird…haunted　woods　in　Buckingham。　　Each　week　there　was　something　to　look　forward　to；　something　to　plan　for　and　manoeuvre。　　The　sense　of　adventure；　a　spice　of　danger；　added　zest。　　She　still　knocked　frequently；　as　before；　at　the　door　of　the　hideously…furnished　little　house　in　North　Street；　but　Mrs。　Phillips　no　longer　oppressed　her　as　some　old　man　of　the　sea　she　could　never　hope　to　shake　off　from　her　shoulders。　　The　flabby；　foolish　face；　robbed　of　its　terrors；　became　merely　pitiful。　　She　found　herself　able　to　be　quite　gentle　and　patient　with　Mrs。　Phillips。　　Even　the　sloppy　kisses　she　came　to　bear　without　a　shudder　down　her　spine。

〃I　know　you　are　only　doing　it　because　you　sympathize　with　his　aims　and　want　him　to　win；〃　acknowledged　the　good　lady。　　〃But　I　can't　help　feeling　grateful　to　you。　　I　don't　feel　how　useless　I　am　while　I've　got　you　to　run　to。〃

They　still　discussed　their　various　plans　for　the　amelioration　and　improvement　of　humanity；　but　there　seemed　less　need　for　haste　than　they　had　thought。　　The　world；　Joan　discovered；　was　not　so　sad　a　place　as　she　had　judged　it。　　There　were　chubby；　rogue…eyed　children；　whistling　lads　and　smiling　maidens；　kindly　men　with　ruddy　faces；　happy　mothers　crooning　over　gurgling　babies。　　There　was　no　call　to　be　fretful　and　vehement。　　They　would　work　together　in　patience　and　in　confidence。　　God's　sun　was　everywhere。　　It　needed　only　that　dark　places　should　be　opened　up　and　it　would　enter。

Sometimes；　seated　on　a　lichened　log；　or　on　the　short　grass　of　some　sloping　hillside；　looking　down　upon　some　quiet　valley；　they　would　find　they　had　been　holding　hands　while　talking。　　It　was　but　as　two　happy；　thoughtless　children　might　have　done。　　They　would　look　at　one　another　with　frank；　clear　eyes　and　smile。

Once；　when　their　pathway　led　through　a　littered　farm…yard；　he　had　taken　her　up　in　his　arms　and　carried　her　and　she　had　felt　a　glad　pride　in　him　that　he　had　borne　her　lightly　as　if　she　had　been　a　child；　looking　up　at　her　and　laughing。

An　old　bent　man　paused　from　his　work　and　watched　them。　　〃Lean　more　over　him；　missie；〃　he　advised　her。　　〃That's　the　way。　　Many　a　mile　I've　carried　my　lass　like　that；　in　flood　time；　and　never　felt　her　weight。〃

Often　on　returning　home；　not　knowing　why；　she　would　look　into　the　glass。　　It　seemed　to　her　that　the　girlhood　she　had　somehow　missed　was　awakening　in　her；　taking　possession　of　her；　changing　her。　　The　lips　she　had　always　seen　pressed　close　and　firm　were　growing　curved；　leaving　a　little　parting；　as　though　they　were　not　quite　so　satisfied　with　one　another。　　The　level　brows　were　becoming　slightly　raised。　　It　gave　her　a　questioning　look　that　was　new　to　her。　　The　eyes　beneath　were　less　confident。　　They　seemed　to　be　seeking　something。

One　evening；　on　her　way　home　from　a　theatre；　she　met　Flossie。　〃Can't　stop　now；〃　said　Flossie；　who　was　hurrying。　　〃But　I　want　to　see　you：　　most　particular。　　Was　going　to　look　you　up。　　Will　you　be　at　home　to…morrow　afternoon　at　tea…time？〃

There　was　a　distinct　challenge　in　Flossie's　eye　as　she　asked　the　question。　　Joan　felt　herself　flush；　and　thought　a　moment。

〃Yes；〃　she　answered。　　〃Will　you　be　coming　alone？〃

〃That's　the　idea；〃　answered　Flossie；　〃a　heart　to　heart　talk　between　you　and　me；　and　nobody　else。　　Half…past　four。　　Don't　forget。〃

Joan　walked　on　slowly。　　She　had　the　worried　feeling　with　which；　once　or　twice；　when　a　schoolgirl；　she　had　crawled　up　the　stairs　to　bed　after　the　head　mistress　had　informed　her　that　she　would　see　her　in　her　private　room　at　eleven　o'clock　the　next　morning；　leaving　her　to　guess　what　about。　　It　occurred　to　her；　in　Trafalgar　Square；　that　she　had　promised　to　take　tea　with　the　Greysons　the　next　afternoon；　to　meet　some　big　pot　from　America。　　She　would　have　to　get　out　of　that。　　She　felt　it　wouldn't　do　to　put　off　Flossie。

She　went　to　bed　wakeful。　　It　was　marvellously　like　being　at　school　again。　　What　could　Flossie　want　to　see　her　about　that　was　so　important？　　She　tried　to　pretend　to　herself　that　she　didn't　know。　After　all；　perhaps　it　wasn't　that。

But　she　knew　that　it　was　the　instant　Flossie　put　up　her　hands　in　order　to　take　off　her　hat。　　Flossie　always　took　off　her　hat　when　she　meant　to　be　unpleasant。　　It　was　her　way　of　pulling　up　her　sleeves。　　They　had　their　tea　first。　　They　seemed　both　agreed　that　that　would　be　best。　　And　then　Flossie　pushed　back　her　chair　and　sat　up。

She　had　just　the　head　mistress　expression。　　Joan　wasn't　quite　sure　she　oughtn't　to　stand。　　But；　controlling　the　instinct；　leant　back　in　her　chair；　and　tried　to　look　defiant　without　feeling　it。

〃How　far　are　you　going？〃　demanded　Flossie。

Joan　was　not　in　a　comprehending　mood。

〃If　you're　going　the　whole　hog；　that's　something　I　can　understand；〃　continued　Flossie。　　〃If　not；　you'd　better　pull　up。〃

〃What　do　you　mean　by　the　whole　hog？〃　requested　Joan；　assuming　dignity。

〃Oh；　don't　come　the　kid；〃　advised　Flossie。　　〃If　you　don't　mind　being　talked　about　yourself；　you　might　think　of　him。　　If　Carleton　gets　hold　of　it；　he's　done　for。〃

〃'A　little　bird　whispers　to　me　that　Robert　Phillips　was　seen　walking　across　Richmond　Park　the　other　afternoon　in　company　with　Miss　Joan　Allway；　formerly　one　of　our　contributors。'　　Is　that　going　to　end　his　political　career？〃　retorted