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eel　that　at　all；　there　was　something　else　。　。　。

With　all　her　might　she　fought　down　her　resistance。　This　was　her　duty。　She　must　obey。　But　something　desolate　and　utterly；　utterly　lonely　crept　away　and　cried　bitterly；　watching　her　surrender。




CHAPTER　III

SKEATON…ON…SEA


She　was　swinging　higher；　higher；　higherswinging　with　that　delightful　rhythm　that　one　knows　best　in　dreams；　lazily；　idly；　and　yet　with　purpose　and　resolve。　She　was　swinging　far　above　the　pain；　the　rebellion；　the　surrender。　That　was　left　for　ever；　the　time　of　her　tears；　of　her　loneliness　was　over。　Above　her；　yet　distant；　was　a　golden　cloud；　soft；　iridescent；　and　in　the　heart　of　this　lay；　she　knew；　the　solution　of　the　mystery；　when　she　reached　it　the　puzzle　would　be　resolved；　and　in　a　wonderful　tranquillity　she　could　rest　after　her　journey。　Nearer　and　nearer　she　swung；　the　cloud　was　a　blaze　of　gold　so　that　she　must　not　look；　but　could　feel　its　warmth　and　heat　already　irradiating　about　her。　Only　to　know！　。　。　。　to　connect　the　two　worlds；　to　find　the　bridge；　to　destroy　the　gulf！

Then　suddenly　the　rhythm　changed。　She　was　descending　again；　slowly　the　cloud　diminished；　a　globe　of　light；　a　ball　of　fire；　a　dazzling　star。　The　air　was　cold；　her　eyes　could　not　penetrate　the　dark；　with　a　sigh　she　awoke。

It　was　early　morning；　and　a　filmy　white　shadow　pervaded　the　room。　For　a　moment　she　did　not　know　where　she　was；　she　saw　the　ghostly　shadows　of　chairs；　of　the　chest　of　drawers；　of　a　high　cupboard。　Then　the　large　picture　of　〃The　Crucifixion；〃　very；　very　dim；　reminded　her。　She　knew　where　she　was；　she　turned　and　saw　her　husband　sleeping　at　her　side；　huddled；　like　a　child；　his　face　on　his　arm；　gently　breathing；　in　the　deepest　sleep。　She　watched　him。　There　had　been　a　moment　that　night　when　she　had　hated　him；　hated　him　so　bitterly　that　she　could　have　fought　him　and　even　killed　him。　There　had　been　another　moment　after　that；　when　she　had　been　so　miserable　that　her　own　death　seemed　the　only　solution；　when　she　had　watched　him　tumble　into　sleep　and　had　herself　lain；　with　burning　eyes　and　her　flesh　dry　and　hot；　staring　into　the　dark；　ashamed；　humiliated。　Then　the　old　Maggie　had　come　to　her　rescue；　the　old　Maggie　who　bade　her　make　the　best　of　her　conditions　whatever　they　might　be；　who　told　her　there　was　humour　in　everything；　hope　always；　courage　everywhere；　and　that　in　her　own　inviolable　soul　lay　her　strength；　that　no　one　could　defeat　her　did　she　not　defeat　herself。

Now；　most　strangely；　in　that　early　light；　she　felt　a　great　tenderness　for　him；　the　tenderness　of　the　mother　for　the　child。　She　put　out　her　hand；　touched　his　shoulder；　stroked　it　with　her　hand；　laid　her　head　against　it。　He；　murmuring　in　his　sleep；　turned　towards　her；　put　his　arm　around　her　and　so；　in　the　shadow　of　his　heart；　she　fell　into　deep；　dreamless　slumber。

At　breakfast　that　morning　she　felt　with　him　a　strange　shyness　and　confusion。　She　had　never　been　shy　with　him　before。　At　the　very　first　she　had　been　completely　at　her　ease；　that　had　been　one　of　his　greatest　attractions　for　her。　But　now　she　realised　that　she　would　be　for　a　whole　fortnight　alone　with　him；　that　she　did　not　know　him　in　the　least；　and　that　he　himself　was　strangely　embarrassed　by　his　own　discoveries　that　he　was　making。

So　they；　both　of　them；　took　the　world　that　was　on　every　side　of　them；　put　it　in　between　them　and　left　their　personal　relationship　to　wait　for　a　better　time。

Maggie　was　childishly　excited。　She　had；　for　the　first　time　in　her　life；　a　house　of　her　own　to　order　and　arrange；　by　the　middle　of　that　first　afternoon　she　had　forgotten　that　Paul　existed。

She　admitted　to　herself　at　once；　so　that　there　should　be　no　pretence　about　the　matter；　that　the　house　was　hideous。　〃Yes；　it's　hideous；〃　she　said　aloud；　standing　in　the　middle　of　the　dining…room　and　looking　about　her。　It　never　could　have　been　very　much　of　a　house；　but　they　（meaning　Paul　and　Grace）　had　certainly　not　done　their　best　for　it。

Maggie　had　had　no　education；　she　had　not　perhaps　much　natural　taste；　but　she　knew　when　things　and　people　were　sympathetic；　and　this　house　was　as　unsympathetic　as　a　house　could　well　be。　To　begin　with；　the　wall…papers　were　awful；　in　the　dining…room　there　was　a　dark　dead　green　with　some　kind　of　pink　flower；　the　drawing…room　was　dressed　in　a　kind　of　squashed　strawberry　colour；　the　wall…paper　of　the　staircases　and　passages　was　of　imitation　marble；　and　the　three　bedrooms　were　pink；　green；　and　yellow；　perfect　horticultural　shows。

It　was　the　distinctive　quality　of　all　the　wall…papers　that　nothing　looked　well　against　them；　and　the　cheap　reproductions　in　gilt　frames；　the　religious　prints；　the　photographs　（groups　of　the　Rev。　Paul　at　Cambridge；　at　St。　Ermand's　Theological　College；　with　the　Skeaton　Band　of　Hope）　were　all　equally　forlorn　and　out　of　place。

It　was　evident　that　everything　in　the　house　was　arranged　and　intended　to　stay　for　ever　where　it　was；　the　chairs　against　the　walls；　the　ornaments　on　the　mantelpieces；　the　photograph…frames；　the　plush　mats；　the　bright　red　pots　with　ferns；　the　long　blue　vases；　and　yet　the　impression　was　not　one　of　discipline　and　order。　Aunt　Anne's　house　had　been　untidy；　but　it　had　had　an　odd　life　and　atmosphere　of　its　own。　This　house　was　dead；　utterly　and　completely　dead。　The　windows　of　the　dining…room　looked　out　on　to　a　lawn　and　round　the　lawn　was　a　stone　wall　with　broken　glass　to　protect　it。　〃As　though　there　were　anything　to　steal！〃　thought　Maggie。　But　then　you　cannot　expect　a　garden　to　look　its　best　at　the　beginning　of　April。　〃I'll　wait　a　little；〃　thought　Maggie。　〃And　then　I'll　make　this　house　better。　I'll　destroy　almost　everything　in　it。〃

About　mid…day　with　rather　a　quaking　heart　Maggie　penetrated　the　kitchen。　Here　were　gathered　together　Alice　the　cook；　Emily　the　housemaid；　and　Clara　the　between　maid。

Alice　was　large；　florid；　and　genial。　Nevertheless　at　once　Maggie　distrusted　her。　No　servant　had　any　right　to　appear　so　wildly　delighted　to　see　a　new　mistress。　Alice　had　doubtless　her　own　plans。　Emily　was　prim　and　conceited；　and　Clara　did　not　exist。　Alice　was　ready　to　do　everything　that　Maggie　wanted；　and　it　was　very　apparent　at　once　that　she　had　not　liked　〃Miss　Grace。〃

〃Ah；　that'll　be　much　better　than　the　way　Miss　Grace　'ad　it；　Mum。　In　their　jackets；　Mum；　very　well。　Certainly。　That　would　be　better。〃

〃I　think　you'd　better　just　give　us　what　seems　easiest　for　dinner；　Cook；〃　said　Maggie；　thereby　handing　herself　over；　delivered　and　bound。

〃Very　well；　MumI'm　sure　I'll　do　my　best；〃　said　Alice。

Early　on　that　first　afternoon　she　was　taken　to　see　the　Church。　For　a　desperate　moment　her　spirits　failed　her　as　she　stood　at　the　end　of　the　Lane　and　looked。　This　was　a　Church　of　the　newest　red　brick；　and　every　seat　was　of　the　most　shining　wood。　The　East　End　window　was　flaming　purple；　with　a　crimson　Christ　ascending　and　yellow　and　blue　disciples　amazed　together　on　the　ground。　Paul　stood　flushed　with　pride　and　pleasure；　his　hand　through　Maggie's　arm。

〃That's　a　Partright　window；〃　he　said　with　that　inflection　that　Maggie　was　already　beginning　to　think　of　as　〃his　public　voice。〃

〃I'm　afraid；　Paul　dear；〃　said　Maggie；　〃I'm　very　ignorant。〃

〃Don't　know　Partright？　Oh；　he's　the　great　man　of　the　last　thirty　yearsdid　the　great　East　window　of　St。　Martin's；　Pontefract。　We　had　a　job　to　get　him　I　can　tell　you。　Just　look　at　that　purple。〃

〃On　the　right　you'll　see　the　Memorial　Tablet　to　our　brave　lads　who　fell　in　the　South　African　WarDulce　et　decorum　est　pro　patria　mori…　…very　appropriate。　Brave　fellows；　brave　fellows！　Just　behind　you；　Maggie；　is　the　Mickleham　Font；　one　of　the　finest　specimens　of　modern　stone…work　in　the　countygiven　to　us　by　Sir　Joseph　Mickleham　Mickleham　Hall；　you　know；　only　two　miles　from　here。　He　used　to　attend　morning　service　here　frequently。　Died　five　years　ago。　Fine　piece　of　work！〃

Maggie　looked　at　it。　It　was　enormous；　a　huge　battlement　of　a　font　in　dead　white　stone　with　wreaths　of　carved　ivy　creeping　about　it。

〃It　makes　one　feel　rather　shivery；〃　said　Maggie。

〃Now　you　must　see　our　lectern；〃　said　Paul　eagerly。

And　so　it　continued。　There　was　apparently　a　great　deal　to　be　said　about　the　Lectern；　and　then　about　the　Choir…Screen；　and　then　about　the　Reredos；　and　then　about　the　Pulpit；　and　then　about　the　Vestry；　and　then　about　the　Collecting…Box　for　the　Poor；　and　then　about　the　Hassocks；　and　finally　about　the　Graveyard　。　。　。　To　all　this　Maggie　listened　and　hoped　that　she　made　the　proper　answers；　but　the　truth　of　the　matter　was　that　she　was　cold　and　dismayed。　The　Chapel　had　been　ugly　enough；　but　behind　its　ugliness　there　had　been　life；　now　with　the　Church　as　with　the　house　there　was　no　life　visible。　Paul；　putting　his　hand　on　her　shoulder；　said：

〃Here；　darling；　will　be　the　centre　of　our　lives。　This　is　our　temple。　Round　this　building　all　our　happiness　will　revolve。〃

〃Yes；　dear；〃　said　Maggie。　She　was　taken　then　for　a　little　walk。　They　went　down　Ivy　Road　and　into　Skeaton　High　Street。　Here　were　the　shops。　Mr。　Bloods；　the　bookseller's；　Tunstall　the　butcher；　Toogood　the　grocer；　Father　the　draper；　Minster　the　picture…dealer；　Harcourt　the　haberdasher；　and　so　on。　Maggie　rather　liked　the　High　Street；　it　reminded　her　of　the　High　Street　in　Polchester；　although　there　was　no　hill。　Out　of　the　High　Street　and　on　to　th