But she knew that it was the instant Flossie put up her hands in order to take off her hat. Flossie always took off her hat when she meant to be unpleasant. It was her way of pulling up her sleeves. They had their tea first. They seemed both agreed that that would be best. And then Flossie pushed back her chair and sat up.

She had just the head mistress expression. Joan wasn"t quite sure she oughtn"t to stand. But, controlling the instinct, leant back in her chair, and tried to look defiant without feeling it.

"How far are you going?" demanded Flossie.

Joan was not in a comprehending mood.

"If you"re going the whole hog, that"s something I can understand,"

continued Flossie. "If not, you"d better pull up."

"What do you mean by the whole hog?" requested Joan, a.s.suming dignity.

"Oh, don"t come the kid," advised Flossie. "If you don"t mind being talked about yourself, you might think of him. If Carleton gets hold of it, he"s done for."

""A little bird whispers to me that Robert Phillips was seen walking across Richmond Park the other afternoon in company with Miss Joan Allway, formerly one of our contributors." Is that going to end his political career?" retorted Joan with fine sarcasm.

Flossie fixed a relentless eye upon her. "He"ll wait till the bird has got a bit more than that to whisper to him," she suggested.

"There"ll be nothing more," explained Joan. "So long as my friendship is of any a.s.sistance to Robert Phillips in his work, he"s going to have it.

What use are we going to be in politics--what"s all the fuss about, if men and women mustn"t work together for their common aims and help one another?"

"Why can"t you help him in his own house, instead of wandering all about the country?" Flossie wanted to know.

"So I do," Joan defended herself. "I"m in and out there till I"m sick of the hideous place. You haven"t seen the inside. And his wife knows all about it, and is only too glad."

"Does she know about Richmond Park--and the other places?" asked Flossie.

"She wouldn"t mind if she did," explained Joan. "And you know what she"s like! How can one think what one"s saying with that silly, goggle-eyed face in front of one always."

Flossie, since she had become engaged, had acquired quite a matronly train of thought. She spoke kindly, with a little grave shake of her head. "My dear," she said, "the wife is always in the way. You"d feel just the same whatever her face was like."

Joan grew angry. "If you choose to suspect evil, of course you can," she answered with hauteur. "But you might have known me better. I admire the man and sympathize with him. All the things I dream of are the things he is working for. I can do more good by helping and inspiring him"--she wished she had not let slip that word "inspire." She knew that Flossie would fasten upon it--"than I can ever accomplish by myself. And I mean to do it." She really did feel defiant, now.

"I know, dear," agreed Flossie, "you"ve both of you made up your minds it shall always remain a beautiful union of twin spirits. Unfortunately you"ve both got bodies--rather attractive bodies."

"We"ll keep it off that plane, if you don"t mind," answered Joan with a touch of severity.

"I"m willing enough," answered Flossie. "But what about Old Mother Nature? She"s going to be in this, you know."

"Take off your gla.s.ses, and look at it straight," she went on, without giving Joan time to reply. "What is it in us that "inspires" men? If it"s only advice and sympathy he"s after, what"s wrong with dear old Mrs.

Denton? She"s a good walker, except now and then, when she"s got the lumbago. Why doesn"t he get her to "inspire" him?"

"It isn"t only that," explained Joan. "I give him courage. I always did have more of that than is any use to a woman. He wants to be worthy of my belief in him. What is the harm if he does admire me--if a smile from me or a touch of the hand can urge him to fresh effort? Suppose he does love me--"

Flossie interrupted. "How about being quite frank?" she suggested.

"Suppose we do love one another. How about putting it that way?"

"And suppose we do?" agreed Joan, her courage rising. "Why should we shun one another, as if we were both of us incapable of decency or self- control? Why must love be always a.s.sumed to make us weak and contemptible, as if it were some subtle poison? Why shouldn"t it strengthen and enn.o.ble us?"

"Why did the apple fall?" answered Flossie. "Why, when it escapes from its bonds, doesn"t it soar upward? If it wasn"t for the irritating law of gravity, we could skip about on the brink of precipices without danger. Things being what they are, sensible people keep as far away from the edge as possible."

"I"m sorry," she continued; "awfully sorry, old girl. It"s a bit of rotten bad luck for both of you. You were just made for one another. And Fate, knowing what was coming, bustles round and gets hold of poor, silly Mrs. Phillips so as to be able to say "Yah.""

"Unless it all comes right in the end," she added musingly; "and the poor old soul pegs out. I wouldn"t give much for her liver."

"That"s not bringing me up well," suggested Joan: "putting those ideas into my head."

"Oh, well, one can"t help one"s thoughts," explained Flossie. "It would be a blessing all round."

They had risen. Joan folded her hands. "Thank you for your scolding, ma"am," she said. "Shall I write out a hundred lines of Greek? Or do you think it will be sufficient if I promise never to do it again?"

"You mean it?" said Flossie. "Of course you will go on seeing him--visiting them, and all that. But you won"t go gadding about, so that people can talk?"

"Only through the bars, in future," she promised. "With the gaoler between us." She put her arms round Flossie and bent her head, so that her face was hidden.

Flossie still seemed troubled. She held on to Joan.

"You are sure of yourself?" she asked. "We"re only the female of the species. We get hungry and thirsty, too. You know that, kiddy, don"t you?"

Joan laughed without raising her face. "Yes, ma"am, I know that," she answered. "I"ll be good."

She sat in the dusk after Flossie had gone; and the laboured breathing of the tired city came to her through the open window. She had rather fancied that martyr"s crown. It had not looked so very heavy, the thorns not so very alarming--as seen through the window. She would wear it bravely. It would rather become her.

Facing the mirror of the days to come, she tried it on. It was going to hurt. There was no doubt of that. She saw the fatuous, approving face of the eternal Mrs. Phillips, thrust ever between them, against the background of that hideous furniture, of those bilious wall papers--the loneliness that would ever walk with her, sit down beside her in the crowded restaurant, steal up the staircase with her, creep step by step with her from room to room--the ever unsatisfied yearning for a tender word, a kindly touch. Yes, it was going to hurt.

Poor Robert! It would be hard on him, too. She could not help feeling consolation in the thought that he also would be wearing that invisible crown.

She must write to him. The sooner it was done, the better. Half a dozen contradictory moods pa.s.sed over her during the composing of that letter; but to her they seemed but the unfolding of a single thought. On one page it might have been his mother writing to him; an experienced, sagacious lady; quite aware, in spite of her affection for him, of his faults and weaknesses; solicitous that he should avoid the dangers of an embarra.s.sing entanglement; his happiness being the only consideration of importance. On others it might have been a queen laying her immutable commands upon some loyal subject, sworn to her service. Part of it might have been written by a laughing philosopher who had learnt the folly of taking life too seriously, knowing that all things pa.s.s: that the tears of to-day will be remembered with a smile. And a part of it was the unconsidered language of a loving woman. And those were the pages that he kissed.

His letter in answer was much shorter. Of course he would obey her wishes. He had been selfish, thinking only of himself. As for his political career, he did not see how that was going to suffer by his being occasionally seen in company with one of the most brilliantly intellectual women in London, known to share his views. And he didn"t care if it did. But inasmuch as she valued it, all things should be sacrificed to it. It was hers to do what she would with. It was the only thing he had to offer her.

Their meetings became confined, as before, to the little house in North Street. But it really seemed as if the G.o.ds, appeased by their submission, had decided to be kind. Hilda was home for the holidays; and her piercing eyes took in the situation at a flash. She appeared to have returned with a new-born and exacting affection for her mother, that astonished almost as much as it delighted the poor lady. Feeling sudden desire for a walk or a bus ride, or to be taken to an entertainment, no one was of any use to Hilda but her mother. Daddy had his silly politics to think and talk about. He must worry them out alone; or with the a.s.sistance of Miss Allway. That was what she was there for. Mrs.

Phillips, torn between her sense of duty and fear of losing this new happiness, would yield to the child"s coaxing. Often they would be left alone to discuss the nation"s needs uninterrupted. Conscientiously they would apply themselves to the task. Always to find that, sooner or later, they were looking at one another, in silence.

One day Phillips burst into a curious laugh. They had been discussing the problem of the smallholder. Joan had put a question to him, and with a slight start he had asked her to repeat it. But it seemed she had forgotten it.

"I had to see our solicitor one morning," he explained, "when I was secretary to a miners" union up north. A point had arisen concerning the legality of certain payments. It was a matter of vast importance to us; but he didn"t seem to be taking any interest, and suddenly he jumped up.

"I"m sorry, Phillips," he said, "but I"ve got a big trouble of my own on at home--I guess you know what--and I don"t seem to care a d.a.m.n about yours. You"d better see Delauny, if you"re in a hurry." And I did."

He turned and leant over his desk. "I guess they"ll have to find another leader if they"re in a hurry," he added. "I don"t seem able to think about turnips and cows."

"Don"t make me feel I"ve interfered with your work only to spoil it,"

said Joan.

"I guess I"m spoiling yours, too," he answered. "I"m not worth it. I might have done something to win you and keep you. I"m not going to do much without you."

"You mean my friendship is going to be of no use to you?" asked Joan.