Jane stood long staring after the swaying bulk of the omnibus, then she drew a deep breath and went home.
Edgar was dead. What a brute Milly was! But, of course, Edgar was nothing to Milly—nothing but a pleasant friend. How slowly people walked in the streets! Jane walked quickly—so quickly that more than one jostled foot-passenger stopped to stare after her.
She had known that he was coming home—and when. She had not owned to herself that the constant intrusion of that thought, “He is here—in London,” the wonder as to when and how she should see him again, had counted for very much in these last days of fierce effort and resented defeat.
She got back to her rooms. She remembers letting herself in with her key. She remembers that some time during the night she destroyed all those futile beginnings of stories. Also, that she found herself saying over and over again, and very loud: “There are the boys—you know there are the boys.” Because, when you have two little brothers to keep, you must not allow yourself to forget it.
But for the rest she remembers little distinctly. Only she is sure that she did not cry, and that she did not sleep.
In the morning she found her rooms very tidy and her box packed. She had put in the boys’ portraits, because one must always remember the boys.
She got a cab and she caught a train, and she reached the seaside cottage. Its little windows blinked firelit welcome to her, as she blundered almost blindly out of the station fly and up the narrow path edged with sea-shells.
Milly had telegraphed. Mrs Beale was there, tremulous, kindly, effective; with armchairs wheeled to the April fire—cups of tea, timid, gentle solicitude.
“My word, Miss, but you do look done up,” said she. “The kettle’s just on the boil, and I’ll wet you a cup o’ tea this instant minute, and I’ve a perfect picture of a chick a-roastin’ ready for your bit o’ dinner.”
Jane leaned back in the cushioned chair and looked round the quiet, pleasant little room. For the moment it seemed good to have a new place to be unhappy in.