He did not wait for the other’s response, but pushing past him went straight into Ninsy’s room.
“Poor child!” he said, “Poor dear little girl! Why didn’t you send a message to me? I saw your father in the yard and he told me to come on in. How are you? Why aren’t you in bed? I’m sure you ought to be in bed, and not talking to such an exciting person as our friend Philip.”
“She won’t be talking to me much longer,” threw in that youth, following his rival to the side of the girl’s sofa. “I only came to ask her to do something for us in this election. She will tell you what I mean. Ask her to tell you. Don’t forget! Good-bye Ninsy,” and he held out his hand with a searching look into the girl’s face, a look at once wistfully entreating and fiercely reproachful.
She took his hand. “Good night, Philip,” she said. “Think kindly of me, and think—” this was said in a voice so low that only the young man could hear—“think kindly of Jim. Good night!”
He nodded to Andersen and went off, a sombre dangerous expression clouding the glance he threw upon the clock in the corner.
“You pay late visits, James Andersen,” he called back, as he let himself out of the cottage-door.
Left alone with Ninsy, the stone-carver possessed himself of the seat vacated by the angry youth. The girl remained quiet and motionless, her hands crossed on her lap and her eyes closed.
“Poor child!” he murmured, in a voice of tender and affectionate pity. “I cannot bear to see you like this. It almost gives me a sense of shame — my being so strong and well — and you so delicate. But you will be better soon, won’t you? And we will go for some of our old walks together.”
Ninsy’s mouth twitched a little, and big tears forced their way through her tightly shut eyelids.
“When your father comes in,” he went on, “you must let me help him carry you upstairs. And I am sure you had better have the doctor tomorrow if you are not better. Won’t you let me go to Yeoborough for him tonight?”
Ninsy suddenly struck the side of her sofa with her clenched hand. “I don’t want the doctor!” she burst out, “and I don’t want to get better. I want to end it all — that’s what I want!’ I want to end it all.”
Andersen made a movement as if to caress her, but she turned her head away.
“I am sick and tired of it all,” she moaned. “I wish I were dead. Oh, I wish I were dead!”
The stone-carver knelt down by her side. “Ninsy,” her murmured, “Ninsy, my child, my friend, what is it? Tell me what it is.”
But the girl only went on, in a low soft wail, “I knew it would come to this. I knew it. I knew it. Oh, why was I ever born! Why wasn’t it me, and not Glory, who died! I shall die. I want to die!”
Andersen rose to his feet. “Ninsy!” he said in a stern altered voice. “Stop this at once — or I shall go straight away and call your father!”
He assumed an air and tone as if quieting a petulant infant. It had its effect upon her. She swallowed down her rising fit of sobs and looked up at him with great frightened tearful eyes.
“Now, child,” he said, once more seating himself, and this time successfully taking possession of a submissive little hand, “tell me what all this is about. Tell me everything.” He bent down and imprinted a kiss upon her cold wet cheek.
“It is—” she stammered, “it is that I think you are fond of that Italian girl.” She hid her face in a fold of her rich auburn hair and went on. “They do tell me you walk with her when your brother goes with Miss Gladys. Don’t be angry with me, Jim. I know I have no right to say these things. I know I have no claim, no power over you. But we did keep company once, Jim, didn’t us? And it do stab my heart, — to hear them tell of you and she!”
James Andersen looked frowningly at the window.
The curtains were not drawn; and a dark ash-branch stretched itself across the casement like an extended threatening arm. Its form was made visible by a gap in the surrounding trees, through which a little cluster of stars faintly twinkled. The cloud veil had melted.
“What a world this is!” the stone-carver thought to himself. His tone when he spoke was irritable and aggrieved.
“How silly you are, Ninsy — with your fancies! A man can’t be civil to a poor lonesome foreign wench, without your girding at him as if he had done something wrong! Of course I speak to Miss Traffio and walk with her too. What else do you expect when the poor thing is left lonesome on my hands, with Luke and Miss Gladys amusing themselves? But you needn’t worry,” he added, with a certain unrestrained bitterness. “It’s only when Luke and his young lady are together that she and I ever meet, and I don’t think they’ll often be together now.”
Ninsy looked at him with questioning eyes.
“He and she have quarrelled,” he said curtly.
“Over the American?” asked the girl.
“Over the American.”
“And you won’t be walking with that foreigner any more?”
“I shan’t be walking with her any more.”
Ninsy sank back on her pillow with a sigh of ineffable relief. Had she been a Catholic she would have crossed herself devoutly. As it was she turned her head smilingly towards him and extended her arms. “Kiss me,” she pleaded. He bent down, and she embraced him with passionate warmth.
“Then we belong to each other again, just the same as before,” she said.
“Just the same as before.”
“Oh, I wish that cruel doctor hadn’t told me I mustn’t marry. He told father it would kill me, and the other one who came said the same thing. But wouldn’t it be lovely if you and I, Jim—”
She stopped suddenly, catching a glimpse of his face. Her happiness was gone in a moment.
“You don’t love me. Oh, you don’t love me! I know it. I have known it for many weeks! That girl has poisoned you against me — the wicked, wicked thing! It’s no use denying it. I know it. I feel it, — oh, how can I bear it! How can I bear it!”
She shut her eyes once more and lay miserable and silent. The wood-carver looked gloomily out of the window. The cluster of stars now assumed a shape well-known to him. It was Orion’s Belt. His thoughts swept sadly over the field of destiny.
“What a world it is!” he said to himself. “There is that boy Philip gone with a tragic heart because his girl loves me. And I–I have to wait and wait in helplessness, and see the other — the one I care for — driven into madness. And she cares not a straw for me, who could help her, and only cares for that poor fool who cannot lift a finger. And meanwhile, Orion’s Belt looks contemptuously down upon us all! Ninsy is pretty well right. The lucky people are the people who are safe out of it — the people that Orion’s Belt cannot vex any more!”
He rose to his feet. “Well, child,” he said, “I think I’ll be going. It’s no use our plaguing one another any further tonight. Things will right themselves, little one. Things will right themselves! Its a crazy world — but the story isn’t finished yet.
“Don’t you worry about it,” he added gently, bending over her and pushing the hair back from her forehead. “Your old James hasn’t deserted you yet. He loves you better than you think — better than he knows himself perhaps!”
The girl seized the hand that caressed her and pressed it against her lips. Her breast rose and fell in quick troubled breathing.
“Come again soon,” she said, and then, with a wan smile, “if you care to.”
Their eyes met in a long perplexed clinging farewell. He was the first to break the tension.
“Good-night, child,” he said, and turning away, left the room without looking back.