Page:O Genteel Lady! (1926).pdf/249

 'And to-day is only Saturday, isn't it?'

The boy smiled. His mouth grew and grew—his eyes diminished.

'Tell me,' she cried in a high voice—'tell me—this is Saturday.'

'Why, M'lidy,' he said, 'if it weren't Saturday or Wednesday you wouldn't be here. The coach don't stop here any other days of the week. And if it ain't Wednesday—and it ain't—it must be Saturday.'

She gave him a shilling.

'I must see him!' she cried again and again. 'I don't care if it is only for a moment. I must see him! I will! God could not be so cruel as not to let me see him—even if he burns me for a thousand million years.'

From Stratton to Winchester.

'I must see him!' she cried. 'Oh, God—let me see him even if it is only the back of his head...and then you may burn me forever.'

And so, unattended by the gentle memories of Jane Austen or of Izaak Walton, she came into Winchester at midnight and drew up at the door of that house which was so strangely begotten. A narrow Tudor house, very venerable and zebra-striped. She beseeched the chambermaid. 'You must call me early. I must be in Southampton by noon.' She followed the big country girl up two flights of stairs and into a low blue room, cut by the eaves into the shape of a tent. 'Yes—thank you, and you must call