Page:Mehalah 1920.djvu/230

220 "What do you want with me?"

"Come, EHjah, let us go indoors. To tell you Gospel truth, I'm dry after my row and want a wet. As I wet I will talk. I've that to say to you that concerns you greatly." "Follow me," he said surlily, and led the way up the steps. Mehalah turned back, but walked not to the point where she had been sitting before, lest she should be again disturbed on the return of Mrs. De Witt to her boat. She went instead to the gate at the bridge over the dyke, that led towards Salcot. There was no real road, only a track through the pasture land. She leaned her hands on the bar of the gate and laid her weary head on her hands. Outside the gate was a tillage field with green wheat in it glancing in the early summer air. Aloft the larks were spiring and carolling. In the ploughed soil of Mehalah's heart nothing had sprung up,—above it no glad thought soared and sang. Her head was paralysed and her heart was numb. The frost lay there, and the clods were as iron. In the meantime Mrs. De Witt was in the hall with her nephew, endeavouring to melt him into geniality, but he remained morose and unimpressionable. By slow approaches she drew towards the object of her visit. "I have been very troubled, nephew, by the gossip that goes about."

"Have you?" asked he, "I thought you were impervious to trouble short of loss of grog." "You know, Ehjah, that your character is precious to me. I wally it, for the honour of the family." "What are you driving at?" he asked with an oath. "Speak out, and then take your slimy tongue off my premises." "This is my old home, Elijah, the dear old place where I spent so many happy and innocent days." "Well, you are not likely to spend any more of either sort here now. Say what you have to say, and begone." "You fluster me, Elijah. When I have a glass of rare good stuff such as this, I like to sit over it, and talk, and sip, and relax."