Peter was fickle. He must have been to transfer his attentions from me to Amaryllis so quickly. What were my feelings? Pique. Jealousy? Had I always been a little jealous of Amaryllis—her superior beauty, her charm, serene nature, her unselfishness? She was indeed the finer character and presented with the two of us a man would be a fool not to prefer her. Then Edward was foolish for he had always loved me. What was it one of the maids had once said? Men were fools when it came to women … And she had been talking about Amaryllis and me. I was the one they looked twice at… all except Peter Lansdon.
No, I was not in love with him. Flattered at first… finding his company stimulating … a little mysterious. Edward, of course, had never been mysterious.
I must learn to love Edward. I had accepted him in a rash moment, and he had supported me. Sometimes I wondered whether he knew that I had spoken out of pique, just as I wondered whether my mother did. She did mention Edward’s virtues continually as though stressing that I had made the wisest possible choice.
Yes, I must love Edward. I must prepare myself to be contented with the life which lay before me. I had chosen it and Edward had supported me magnificently … as he always would.
I must remember. I was the lucky one.
It was I who said I should like to visit the factory during working hours. I was eager to see the lace-making in progress. Edward did hesitate for a moment but I went on: “It would be so interesting…” And he was delighted in my interest and gave way, though I fancied with some reluctance. However, it was arranged that he would take me there.
I arrived with him in mid-morning, and as I went through the doors into that huge room which was full of people all engaged on the business of lace-making, I felt a sense of excitement.
I was aware of eyes following me as Edward conducted me through, here and there pausing to explain some little technicality. I spoke to one or two of the people. They answered me with restraint and I wondered whether there was a certain sullenness about them. Perhaps I felt a tremor of uneasiness or did I imagine that afterwards? I cannot be sure now I look back. I had become suddenly aware of my appearance in my dark blue wool jacket trimmed with sable at the neck and sleeves; my little hat with the scarlet feather and my scarlet gown. The contrast between my clothes and theirs must have been noticeable.
I was glad to leave the work room for a smaller one where a woman was sorting out specimens of lace and putting labels on them.
“This is Mrs. Fellows,” said Edward. “She is an expert. She can detect a flaw which is hardly visible to the naked eye.”
Mrs. Fellows, whom I guessed to be in her early forties, looked rather gratified.
I said: “Was it your husband I met the other day?”
“Oh yes, he’s on duty with the machines.”
“We’ve got more than two Fellows in the factory,” explained Edward.
“There’s my son Tom,” said Mrs. Fellows. “He’s here learning the trade … and I’ve another son who’ll be coming along in a year or two.”
“We like to keep it in families,” said Edward.
Just at that moment a man came in and said something to Edward which I did not hear. Edward turned to me and said: “I’ll leave you for a moment. Stay with Mrs. Fellows. She’ll show you some of our finest patterns.”I smiled at Mrs. Fellows. “I suppose lace has been made in this town for years and years.”
“That’s about right,” she said.
“It must be gratifying to be able to make something which is so beautiful.”
“For how long, M’am, that’s what we all say?”
I felt embarrassed. “Why … why not?”
A sullen look came over her face. “These cursed machines … they’re going to take away our living.”
“I have heard that it will be better for the prosperity of the town if…”
I could not go on. She gave me a scornful look. I noticed the darn in her worsted gown and I was very conscious of my fur trimmed coat and my shoes made of the best leather. I felt ashamed to speak so glibly of a matter which was of such importance to her. I wanted to tell her of my sympathy and understanding but I did not know how to.
And just at that moment I heard strange noises. There was a thumping sound as though some very heavy article was being dragged across a floor. There was a scream… followed by shouting.
I looked at Mrs. Fellows in alarm. She had turned very pale. “God help us,” she murmured. “It’s come. I knew it would … and now it’s come.”
I clutched her arm. “What’s happening?”
“It’s the men… It’s been brewing, and now it’s come. It’s the mob … breaking in … And God help us … the men will be with them.”
I turned to the door.
She held on to me. “I wouldn’t. It’s rough … No place for a lady.”
“Mr. Barrington …”
“He brought ’em in, didn’t he? He shouldn’t have brought them in. It’s his fault if harm comes …”
I wrenched myself free and opened the door. The big room was deserted. I could hear shouts from above and I thought Edward is up there. They are destroying the machines … and what will they do to Edward?
Several people were rushing down the stairs as though eager to be gone. They ignored me. They were wild looking men with fanaticism written in their faces. As I ran up the stairs more came out of that room and I was almost knocked off my feet. But they did not look at me, nor did they attempt to impede my progress.
And there I was in the room where a few days ago Edward had proudly showed me his machines. I stared in dismay at the sight of so much destruction. The machines were smashed. Several men were still attacking them with hammers and pieces of iron. I saw the man Fellows whom I recognized and I saw Edward too.
“Stop it,” Edward was shouting. “Stop it, Fellows, stop it. You’ve joined them have you, Fellows? You’ve joined the wreckers.”
He had gone towards Fellows who picked up an iron bar. I caught my breath. Edward advanced; then Fellows struck. Edward reeled and then fell among the remains of what had been his precious machines.
I ran to him and knelt beside him. He was unconscious. I thought he was dead, and sorrow and remorse swept over me. He had been reluctant to bring me; it was I who had wanted to come. It was my fault. I had brought him here.
I just knelt beside him looking at him in anguish.
I was suddenly aware of Fellows standing there.
I cried: “You’ve killed him.”
“Oh no … no.”
“Get help,” I cried. “Get help at once. Get a doctor. Bring him here without delay.”
Fellows ran away. I did not know whether he would do my bidding or not.
There was silence now… terrible silence. These men had done their work …
They had come to break the machines and they had killed Edward.
I do not know how long I stayed in that room among the crippled machines with Edward lying there among them … white and still. Some parts of a machine had fallen across his legs. I tried to move them but I could not do so. It was eerie. I dared not leave him and yet I knew I must get help. I kept thinking of Fellows. When I had first met him he had seemed gentle, respectful. But how different he had been in that room when he had lifted the iron bar and struck. The light of fanaticism was in his eyes. The mob, I thought. The mob does not reason. It is caught up in the desire to destroy everything and everybody in its way. Their fury had far outgrown fear of poverty and starvation, it had changed them from law-abiding citizens to destroyers. “Progress,” Edward had said.
“Oh Edward,” I whispered, “you must not die. I will love you. I will love you. I will make myself into a good wife. I will never let you know that it was because Peter Lansdon preferred Amaryllis to me that I wanted to show them I did not care. I will be loving and tender always. You must live so that I can show you that I am not entirely selfish, Edward …”