It was a long time before either of us slept.
Judith knew, of course, that I was sleeping in Mellyora's room and when I hinted at the reason made no objection.
During the weeks that followed, Mellyora and I grew close again, for sharing a room meant sharing confidences, and our relationship was more as it had been in the parsonage than it had been since we came to the Abbas and her feeling for Justin had set us a little apart.
I received a letter from David Killigrew during that time. He thought of me constantly, he wrote; his mother was as strong as ever physically, but growing a little more forgetful every day; he was kept busy but he saw no hope of getting a living which, he implied, he must do before asking me to marry him.
I could scarcely remember what he looked like. I felt guilty because he was so earnest and at one time I had contemplated marrying him as now, deep down in my heart I was contemplating marrying Johnny St. Larnston.
What sort of a woman was I, I asked myself, who was ready to turn this way and that for the sake of expediency?
I tried to make excuses for myself. I had fabricated a dream; and the fulfillment of that dream was the most important thing in my life. I wanted a position for myself that I might suffer no more humiliation; I wanted to give Granny comfort in her old age; I wanted to make a doctor of Joe. It was ironical that Johnny, whom I told myself I hated, was the only one who held the key to all that. It was a key he would be reluctant to relinquish; but perhaps if he were hard pushed ... ?
Johnny was watching me with smoldering eyes. He was eager for me as he ever was, and yet he made no move. I suspected that he had been to my room and found it empty. He would guess where I was, but he dared not come to Mellyora's.
I continued to hear Judith's raised voice in the apartments she shared with Justin; and I knew that she was growing more and more restless.
As for Mellyora, she seemed to be living in a state of exultation. I believed I knew why, because I had seen her and Justin together one day from my window. They had met accidentally and exchanged only a word; but I watched him look after her as she passed; I saw her turn to look at him, and for a few seconds they stood still, gazing at one another.
They had betrayed themselves. Judith's suspicions had some foundation.
They loved each other; and they had admitted it, if not in words, by a look.
We were seated at the table when the clanging of the bell from Sir Justin's room started up. For a few seconds we stared at each other, then Haggety, followed by Mrs. Rolt, hurried upstairs.
We all looked at each other, for the bell went on clanging until they reached the room, and we knew that this was no ordinary call.
In a few moments Haggety returned to the kitchen. Polore was to go at once for Dr. Hilliard.
When he had gone we sat at the table but we did not eat.
Mrs. Salt said mournfully: "This'll be the end, you see. And if you were to ask me it'll be a happy release."
Dr. Hilliard was fortunately at home and within half an hour he came back with Polore. He spent a long time in Sir Justin's room.
A tension had fallen on the house; everyone spoke in whispers, and when Dr. Hilliard left, Haggety told us that Sir Justin had had another stroke. He was still alive but, in his opinion, he wouldn't last the night.
I went up to Judith to prepare her night things; I found her quieter than usual; she told me that Justin was with his father; the whole family were there.
"This is not entirely unexpected, Madam," I said.
She shook her head. "It had to happen sooner or later."
"And is it ... the end, Madam?"
"Who can say? He is not dead yet."
Soon, I thought, she will be Lady St, Larnston and Justin will be the head of the house. It would make no difference to me. But Mellyora? I believed Justin hated to see his mother bullying Mellyora. When he was Sir Justin what would he do to prevent it? Would he betray his feelings?
Life never remains stationary, I thought. A little change here, a little change there ... and what was safe and normal becomes no longer so. I thought of the seventh virgin of the legend who had meditated not far from where I was standing, who had taken her vows and no doubt believed she would live the rest of her life in peaceful security. Then she loved and she submitted to love; and the result was lingering death in the convent wall.
Dr. Hilliard came twice a day and each morning we believed that Sir Justin would be dead before the day was over. But for a week he lingered on.
Mellyora was constantly in attendance. She was excused her duties of reading and flower gathering. I went back to my own room for she was needed in the sickroom, and since I was alone there was no point in being in hers.
She had little rest during those six days, but she did not seem to need it. She had lost a little weight which was rather becoming, and there was a shine about her. I, who knew her so well, understood that just for a while she was content to bask in the knowledge that Justin loved her.
Perhaps, I thought, they could go on like that for the rest of their lives. Theirs would be a relationship of ideals, unsullied by any physical need. Justin would never be a passionate man and Mellyora would be ready to adapt herself to his ways. It would be a sublimated love; they would be kept apart always by the flaming sword of propriety and convention.
What a contrast was this profane attraction which Johnny had for me and I, perhaps, for him.
Sir Justin was dead, and there was a lightening of the atmosphere as preparations for the funeral began. At all the windows blinds were drawn; we moved about the house in somber gloom. There was no real sadness though, for no one had loved Sir Justin and his death had been expected for so long.
It was a question of: "Sir Justin is dead. Long live Sir Justin." The servants slipped naturally into the new form of address. Judith had become "my lady," and almost imperceptibly the Dowager Lady St. Larnston moved slightly into the background.
Everyone attached to the house wore black crape bands about their arms—for "respect," said Mrs. Rolt. A collection was made in the kitchens, to which both Mellyora and myself were invited to add our share and there was great excitement when the wreath arrived. "The Gates of Heaven Ajar," which had been Mrs. Rolt's choice.
When I asked if they thought Sir Justin would go to Heaven, since, from what I had heard, his life had not been exemplary, I was regarded by shocked eyes and Doll gave a little squeal as she looked over her shoulder, half expecting, she explained. Sir Justin's shade to come into the kitchen and strike me dead with the copper stick which Daisy had brought in from the washhouse and had forgotten to take back.
Didn't I know that it was dangerous to speak ill of the dead? Didn't I know that the dead were sanctified? No matter if Sir Justin had taken unwilling maidens; no matter if he had sent men, women and young children to the hulks or transportation for no greater sin than trespassing on his estates; he was dead now and therefore a saint.
I felt impatient with them; nor was I afraid of the ghost of Sir Justin. But it was no use trying to explain.
The black mutes had done their duty; the velvet-caparisoned horses had carried their sacred burden away and the funeral was over.
I was no longer afraid of Johnny. In fact I was rather eager for more encounters with him. I had been to see Granny while Sir Justin was so ill and I had talked to her about Johnny.
She was very thoughtful; then she said: "The fact that he talked of marriage would seem to show that he had it in his mind."
"Only," I replied, "as something which could not possibly take place."
Granny shook her head and regarded me fondly. "Why, Kerensa," she said, "I'd be ready to swear that if you were dressed up like a lady and taken where no one knew you, they'd think you were one."