CHAPTER XIX

l.” “Youyetmay,”saidFriedadespondently. Helenshookherhead.“TheGreatWilcoxPerilwillneverreturn.IfI’mcertainofanythingit’softhat.” “Oneiscertainofnothingbutthetruthofone’sownemotions.” Theremarkfelldamplyontheconversation.ButHelenslippedherarmroundhercousin,somehowlikingherthebetterformakingit.Itwasnotanoriginalremark,norhadFriedaappropriateditpassionately,forshehadapatrioticratherthanaphilosophicmind.YetitbetrayedthatinterestintheuniversalwhichtheaverageTeutonpossessesandtheaverageEnglishmandoesnot.Itwas,howeverillogically,thegood,thebeautiful,thetrue,asopposedtotherespectable,thepretty,theadequate.ItwasalandscapeofBocklin’sbesidealandscapeofLeader’s,stridentandill-considered,butquiveringintosupernaturallife.Itsharpenedidealism,stirredthesoul.Itmayhavebeenabadpreparationforwhatfollowed. “Look!”criedAuntJuley,hurryingawayfromgeneralitiesoverthenarrowsummitofthedown.“StandwhereIstand,andyouwillseethepony-cartcoming.Iseethepony-cartcoming.” Theystoodandsawthepony-cartcoming.MargaretandTibbywerepresentlyseencominginit.LeavingtheoutskirtsofSwanage,itdroveforalittlethroughthebuddinglanes,andthenbegantheascent. “Haveyougotthehouse?”theyshouted,longbeforeshecouldpossiblyhear. Helenrandowntomeether.Thehighroadpassedoverasaddle,andatrackwentthenceatrightanglesalonetheridgeofthedown. “Haveyougotthehouse?” Margaretshookherhead. “Oh,whatanuisance!Sowe’reaswewere?” “Notexactly.” Shegotout,lookingtired. “Somemystery,”saidTibby.“Wearetobeenlightenedpresently.” MargaretcamecloseuptoherandwhisperedthatshehadhadaproposalofmarriagefromMr.Wilcox. Helenwasamused.Sheopenedthegateontothedownssothatherbrothermightleadtheponythrough.“It’sjustlikeawidower,”sheremarked.“They’vecheekenoughforanything,andinvariablyselectoneoftheirfirstwife’sfriends.” Margaret’sfaceflasheddespair. “Thattype—”Shebrokeoffwithacry.“Meg,notanythingwrongwithyou?” “Waitoneminute,”saidMargaret,whisperingalways. “Butyou’veneverconceivably—you’venever—”Shepulledherselftogether.“Tibby,hurryupthroughIcan’tholdthisgateindefinitely.AuntJuley!Isay,AuntJuley,makethetea,willyou,andFriedawe’vegottotalkhouses,andwillcomeonafterwards.”Andthen,turningherfacetohersister’s,sheburstintotears. Margaretwasstupefied.Sheheardherselfsaying,“Oh,really—”Shefeltherselftouchedwithahandthattrembled. “Don’t,”sobbedHelen,“don’t,don’t,Meg,don’t!”Sheseemedincapableofsayinganyotherword.Margaret,tremblingherself,ledherforwarduptheroad,tilltheystrayedthroughanothergateontothedown. “Don’t,don’tdosuchathing!Itellyounotto—don’t!Iknow—don’t!” “Whatdoyouknow?” “Panicandemptiness,”sobbedHelen.“Don’t!” ThenMargaretthought,“Helenisalittleselfish.Ihaveneverbehavedlikethiswhentherehasseemedachanceofhermarrying.”Shesaid:“Butwewouldstillseeeachothervery—often,andyou—” “It’snotat