CHAPTER XL

ValancypausedamomentontheporchofthebrickhouseinElmStreet.Shefeltthatsheoughttoknocklikeastranger.Herrosebush,sheidlynoticed,wasloadedwithbuds.Therubber-plantstoodbesidetheprimdoor.Amomentaryhorrorovercameher—ahorroroftheexistencetowhichshewasreturning.Thensheopenedthedoorandwalkedin. “IwonderiftheProdigalSoneverfeltreallyathomeagain,”shethought. Mrs.FrederickandCousinStickleswereinthesitting-room.UncleBenjaminwasthere,too.TheylookedblanklyatValancy,realisingatoncethatsomethingwaswrong.Thiswasnotthesaucy,impudentthingwhohadlaughedattheminthisveryroomlastsummer.Thiswasagrey-facedwomanwiththeeyesofacreaturewhohadbeenstrickenbyamortalblow. Valancylookedindifferentlyaroundtheroom.Shehadchangedsomuch—andithadchangedsolittle.Thesamepictureshungonthewalls.Thelittleorphanwhokneltathernever-finishedprayerbythebedwhereonreposedtheblackkittenthatnevergrewupintoacat.Thegrey“steelengraving”ofQuatreBras,wheretheBritishregimentforeverstoodatbay.Thecrayonenlargementoftheboyishfathershehadneverknown.Theretheyallhunginthesameplaces.Thegreencascadeof“WanderingJew”stilltumbledoutoftheoldgranitesaucepanonthewindow-stand.Thesameelaborate,never-usedpitcherstoodatthesameangleonthesideboardshelf.Theblueandgiltvasesthathadbeenamonghermother’swedding-presentsstillprimlyadornedthemantelpiece,flankingthechinaclockofberosedandbesprayedwarethatneverwent.Thechairsinexactlythesameplaces.HermotherandCousinStickles,likewiseunchanged,regardingherwithstonyunwelcome. Valancyhadtospeakfirst. “I’vecomehome,Mother,”shesaidtiredly. “SoIsee.”Mrs.Frederick’svoicewasveryicy.ShehadresignedherselftoValancy’sdesertion.ShehadalmostsucceededinforgettingtherewasaValancy.Shehadrearrangedandorganisedhersystematiclifewithoutanyreferencetoanungrateful,rebelliouschild.Shehadtakenherplaceagaininasocietywhichignoredthefactthatshehadeverhadadaughterandpitiedher,ifitpitiedheratall,onlyindiscreetwhispersandasides.The