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'Oh yes,' said the girl, hazarding a conjecture that the work had something to do with Socialism. 'Of course that interests you.'
'I think I'm going to write a translation of it. My husband doesn't read German, and this book is important.'
'I suppose you are quite a Socialist, Adela?' Letty inquired, in a tone which seemed anxious to presuppose the affirmative answer. She had never yet ventured to touch on the subject.
'Yes, I am a Socialist,' said Adela firmly. 'I am sure anyone will be who thinks about it, and really understands the need for Socialism. Does the word still sound a little dreadful to you? I remember so well when it did to me. It was only because I knew nothing about it.'
'I don't think I have that excuse,' said the other. 'Alfred is constantly explaining. But, Adela--'
She paused, not quite daring to speak her thoughts. Adela smiled an encouragement.
'I was going to say--I'm sure you won't be offended. But you still go to church?'
'Oh yes, I go to church. You mustn't think that everything Alfred insists upon belongs to Socialism. I believe that all Christians ought to be Socialists; I think it is part of our religion, if only we carry it out faithfully.'
'But does Mr. Wyvern think so?'
'Yes, he does; he does indeed. I talk with Mr. Wyvern frequently, and I never knew, before he showed me, how necessary it is for a Christian to be a Socialist.'
'You surprise me, Adela. Yet he doesn't confess himself a Socialist.'
'Indeed, he does. When did you hear Mr. Wyvern preach a sermon without insisting on justice and unselfishness and love of our neighbour? If we try to be just and unselfish, and to love our neighbour as ourself, we help the cause of Socialism. Mr. Wyvern doesn't deal with politics--it is not necessary he should. That is for men like my husband, who give their lives to the practical work. Mr. Wyvern confines himself to spiritual teaching. He would injure his usefulness if he went beyond that.'
Letty was awed by the exceeding change which showed itself not only in Adela's ways of thought, but in her very voice and manner of speaking.
The tone was so authoritative, so free from the diffidence which had formerly kept Adela from a.s.serting strongly even her cherished faiths.
She felt, too, that with the maiden hesitancy something else had gone, at all events in a great degree; something that it troubled her to miss; namely, that winning persuasiveness which had been one of the characteristics that made Adela so entirely lovable. At present Mrs. Mutimer scarcely sought to persuade; she uttered her beliefs as indubitable. A competent observer might now and then have surmised that she felt it needful to remind herself of the creed she had accepted.
'You were smiling when I first caught sight of you,' Letty said, after reflecting for a moment. 'Was it something in the book?'
Adela again smiled.
'No, something in myself,' she replied with an air of confidence.
'Because you are happy, Adela?'
'Yes, because I am happy.'
'How glad I am to hear that, dear!' Letty exclaimed, for the first time allowing herself to use the affectionate word. 'You will let me be glad with you?'
Her hands stole a little forward, but Adela did not notice it; for she was gazing straight before her, with an agitated look.
'Yes, I am very happy, I have found something to do in life. I was afraid at first that I shouldn't be able to give my husband any help in his work; I seemed useless. But I am learning, and I hope soon to be of real use, if only in little things. You know that I have begun to give a tea to the children every Wednesday? They're not in need of food and comforts, I'm glad to say; n.o.body wants in New Wanley; but it's nice to bring them together at the Manor, and teach them to behave gently to each other, and to sit properly at table, and things like that. Will you come and see them to-day?'
'I shall be very pleased.'
'To-day I'm going to begin something new. After tea we shall have a reading. Mr. Wyvern sent me a book this morning--"Andersen's Fairy Tales."'
'Oh, I've read them. Yes, that'll do nicely. Read them "The Ugly Duckling," Adela; it's a beautiful story. I thought perhaps you were going to read something--something instructive, you know.'
Adela laughed. It was Adela's laugh still, but not what it used to be.
'No, I want to amuse them. They get enough instruction in school. I hope soon to give another evening to the older girls. I wonder whether you would like to come and help me then?'
'If only you would let me! There is nothing I should like more than to do something for you.'
'But you mustn't do it for me. It must be for the girls' sake.'
'Yes, for theirs as well, but ever so much more for yours, dear. You can't think how glad I am that you have asked me.'
Again the little hand was put forward, and this time Adela took it.
But she did not soften as she once would have done. With eyes still far away, she talked for some minutes of the hopes with which her life was filled. Frequently she made mention of her husband, and always as one to whom it was a privilege to devote herself. Her voice had little failings and uncertainties now and then, but this appeared to come of excessive feeling.
They rose and walked from the wood together.
'Alfred wants us to go to Malvern for a fortnight,' Letty said, when they were near the gates of the Manor. 'We were wondering whether you could come, Adela?'
'No, I can't leave Wanley,' was the reply. 'My husband'--she never referred to Mutimer otherwise than by this name--'spoke of the seaside the other day, but we decided not to go away at all. There is so much to be done.'
When Adela went to the drawing-room just before luncheon, she found Alice Mutimer engaged with a novel. Reading novels had become an absorbing occupation with Alice. She took them to bed with her so as to read late, and lay late in the morning for the same reason. She must have been one of Mr. Mudie's most diligent subscribers. She had no taste for walking in the country, and could only occasionally be persuaded to take a drive. It was not surprising that her face had not quite the healthy colour of a year ago; there was negligence, too, in her dress, and she had grown addicted to rec.u.mbent att.i.tudes. Between her and Adela no semblance of friends.h.i.+p had yet arisen, though the latter frequently sought to subst.i.tute a nearer relation for superficial friendliness.
Alice never exhibited anything short of good-will, but her first impressions were lasting; she suspected her sister-in-law of a desire to patronise, and was determined to allow nothing of the kind. With a more decided character, Alice's prepossessions would certainly have made life at the Manor anything but smooth; as it was, nothing ever occurred to make unpleasantness worth her while. Besides, when not buried in her novels, she gave herself up to absentmindedness; Adela found conversation with her almost impossible, for Alice would answer a remark with a smiling 'Yes' or 'No,' and at once go off into dreamland, so that one hesitated to disturb her.
'What time is it?' she inquired, when she became aware of Adela moving about the room.
'All but half-past one.'
'Really? I suppose I must go and get ready for lunch. What a pity we can't do without meals!'
'You should go out in the morning and get an appet.i.te. Really, you are getting very pale, Alice. I'm sure you read far too much.'
Adela had it on her lips to say 'too many novels,' but was afraid to administer a direct rebuke.
'Oh, I like reading, and I don't care a bit for going out.'
'What about your practising?' Adela asked, with a playful shake of the head.
'Yes, I know it's very neglectful, but really it is such awful work.'
'And your French?'
'I'll make a beginning to-morrow. At least, I think I will. I don't neglect things wilfully, but it's so awfully hard to really get at it when the time comes.'
The luncheon-bell rang, and Alice, with a cry of dismay, sped to her room. She knew that her brother was to lunch at home to-day, and Richard was terrible in the matter of punctuality.
As Soon as the meal was over Alice hastened back to her low chair in the drawing-room. Richard and his wife went together into the garden.
'What do you think Rodman's been advising me this morning?' Mutimer said, speaking with a cigar in his mouth. 'It's a queer idea; I don't quite know what to think of it. You know there'll be a general election some time next year, and he advises me to stand for Belwick.'
He did not look at his wife. Coming to a garden-seat, he put up one foot upon it, and brushed the cigar ash against the back. Adela sat down; she had not replied at once, and was thoughtful.