It was while she was standing at the door during one of these pauses for mingled puzzle and rest that she saw Mrs. Machell coming across the gardens. Mrs. Machell was a plump little woman, full of bustle and talk, but there was a lilt about her to-day which she had never hitherto noticed. Also she looked from side to side of her as she came, as if the place interested her more than usual. The spring must have got into Mrs. Machell’s blood, Mattie thought, adding the head-turning and the lilt to the rest of her new puzzle.
It was some time, however, before the visitor actually reached the house. Coming upon Len at work among the raspberry canes, she stopped to talk to him, and they stood laughing and chatting together for several minutes. Mattie frowned a little as she watched them, seeing the fine spring day going and Kirkby’s best workman idling. But she was still too happy to be annoyed by a thing which, after all, was hardly within her province, and she had nothing but smiles for Len’s wife when she finally approached her.
“It was good of you to come,” she began blithely, as she led the way into the kitchen. “I didn’t look for you so soon. There’s not that much doing, yet awhile, of course, but I’m fair aching for someone to talk to!”
Mrs. Machell laughed as she looked about her at the chaotic state of things which had so disgusted Kirkby. She was a fine, bright little thing, Mattie thought, and Joe might have done worse than marry her. Her cheeks were still fresh, and the gold of her hair shone as she took off her hat in a business-like manner. She was the same age as Joe, too, which meant a couple of years older than Ellen.... Mattie joined in the laugh with the heartiness of the excellent housewife who for once in a lifetime is found wanting.
“Ay, it looks like it, I’m sure,” she agreed, in reply to Mrs. Machell’s remark that at all events there seemed plenty to be going on with. “I’ll be right grateful if you’ll help me to put things straight. Kirkby was that sick about ’em at dinner, it fair went to your heart to see him! A man minds a house being pulled about a deal more than a woman.”
“They do that!” Dolly Machell nodded wisely. “They make as much noise about it as a dog being skifted from its kennel. I daren’t so much as move a chair in our spot but Len’s as uneasy as an earthquake!”
Mattie felt a prick in her pride that an under-gardener should presume to indulge in the same idiosyncrasies as distinguished Kirkby, but she covered it hastily. “Ay, well, men must be men,” she returned kindly, generously admitting Len into at least that one category.
“I’d a feeling I must be doing something right off,” she went on, conscious that the general upset needed some explanation. “Of course, I know it’s over early yet to be arranging about the sale, but it won’t be trouble wasted. I know a deal better where I am than when I started in at things, this morning.”
Mrs. Machell stole a glance at her in the chair into which she had sunk after taking her visitor into the kitchen. Mattie was hardly conscious that she had sat down, or that she was beginning to feel the effects of the work and excitement of the morning. But to Mrs. Machell weariness was written plain in the lines of her flushed face and the droop of her broad shoulders. Loose strands of her hair were straying wildly across her forehead. Her hands, resting heavily in her lap, looked older than the rest of her.
“Then you’re really thinking of leaving, Mrs. Kirkby?” Dolly asked, with a casualness assumed to hide an inward tremor. “Len said it was as certain as rent-day, but I said I didn’t believe it.”