Chapter 44
"Whether she wants me or not, she's got to have me."
"For how long?"
(Mary's face was heavy with thought now.)
"I don't know. I'm going to get something to do."
"To _do?_"
(Mary said to herself, then certainly it was not amusing. She pondered it.)
"Is it," she brought out, "because of Steven Rowcliffe?"
"No. It's because of Ally."
"Ally?"
"Yes. Didn't Papa tell you about her?"
"Not he. Did he tell you?"
"No. It was Steven Rowcliffe."
And she told Mary what Rowcliffe had said to her.
She had made room for her on her trunk and they sat there, their bodies touching, their heads drawn back, each sister staring with eyes that gave and took the other's horror.
"Don't, Molly, don't----"
Mary was crying now.
"Does Papa know--that she'll die--or go mad?"
"Yes."
"But"--Mary lifted her stained face--"that's what they said about Mother."
"If she had children. It's if Ally hasn't any."
"And Papa knew it _then_. And he knows it now--how awful."
"It isn't as awful as Steven Rowcliffe thinks. He doesn't really know what's wrong with her. He doesn't know she's in love with _him_."
"Poor Ally. What's the good? He isn't in love with her."
"He isn't now," said Gwenda. "But he will be."
"Not he. It's you he cares for--if he cares for anybody."
"I know. That's why I'm going."
"Oh, Gwenda----"
Mary's face was somber as she took it in.
"That won't do Ally any good. If you _know_ he cares."
"I don't absolutely know it. And if I did it wouldn't make any difference."
"And if--you care for him?"
"That doesn't make any difference either. I've got to clear out. It's her one chance, Molly. I've got to give it her. How
"And if he doesn't?"
"He may, Molly, he may, if I clear out in time. Anyhow, there isn't anybody else."
"If only," Mary said, "Papa had kept a curate."
"But he hasn't kept a curate. He never will keep a curate. And if he does he'll choose a man with a wife and seven children--no, he'll choose no children. The wife mustn't have a chance of dying."
"Gwenda--do you think anybody _knows?_ They did, you know--before, and it was awful."
"n.o.body knows this time, except Papa and Steven Rowcliffe and you and me."
"I wish I didn't. I wish you hadn't told me."
"You _had_ to know or I wouldn't have told you. Do you think Steven Rowcliffe would have told _me----_"
"How could he? It was awful of him."
"He could because he isn't a coward or a fool and he knew that I'm not a coward or a fool either. He thought Ally had n.o.body but me. She'll have n.o.body but you when I'm gone. You mustn't let her see you think her awful. You mustn't _think_ it. She isn't. She's as good as gold.
Steven Rowcliffe said so. If she wasn't, Molly, I wouldn't ask you to help her--with him."
"Gwenda, you mustn't put it all on me. I'd do anything for poor Ally, but I _can't_ make him marry her if he doesn't want to."
"I think Ally can make him want to, if she gets a chance. You've only got to stick to her and see her through. You'll have to ask him here, you know. _She_ can't. And you'll have to keep Papa off her. If you're not very careful, he'll go and put her under restraint or something."
"Oh--would it come to that?"
"Yes. Papa'd do it like a shot. I believe he'd do it just to stop her marrying him. You mustn't tell Papa what I've told you. You mustn't tell Ally. And you mustn't tell him. Do you hear, Molly? You must never tell him."
"Of course I won't tell him. But it's no use thinking we can do things."
Gwenda stood up.
"We haven't got to _do_ things. That's his business. We've only got to sit tight and play the game."