“Leave him? No—I’ve had enough of leaving people. He’s everything to me, and I’d lay down my life for him, I’m sure; but just for the minute, even with him, I feel I’ve got to fight for myself a bit. It wouldn’t be a bad thing for him to see what his life is without me. If I go, he’ll miss me at every turn, and he’ll think a bit more of me when I come back.”
“But you say he thinks too much of you as it is, and fusses more than he need.”
“He thinks too much and too little. I can’t explain—there’s no words to it. But let it go. I ask to come and spend a bit of time at Priory Farm. Surely you’ll let me do that? I’m getting so thin and low that I believe I’ll die if I’ve got to worry much longer. A week or two with you will set me up, and make me braver. My nerves are all on edge.”
Medora was tearful and agitated. Probably her mother understood her better than she pretended. Kellock was not unctuous, but utterly humourless, and, in the matter of Medora, he did sometimes unconsciously take a line that suggested the stained-glass attitude. It was as much her fault as his, for, at an earlier stage in their companionship, she had never tired of telling him how she appreciated his sacrifices, his noble patience, and chivalric support of herself. A man without sense of proportion could not fail to be influenced by such assurances from the woman he loved.
“You shall come certainly,” said Lydia, “and there’s no need to take on and let things fret you to fiddlestrings. It’ll happen right presently. It may be a good thing for you to stop at Cornworthy for a while.”
She remembered Philander’s suggestion that Medora might, with advantage, see Ned. It would be possible to arrange such a meeting at Cornworthy perhaps; and if Medora prevailed with Mr. Dingle to renounce his threat of claiming damages, that must be to the good.
She promised her daughter that she should come, drank tea with her, and left her happier than she had been for a long time.
“It’s not so much for myself as for Jordan,” declared Medora. “It’ll be good for him and open his eyes a bit to hear I’m going to Uncle and Aunt Dolbear on a visit. They forgave him and all that; but I don’t think he knows they are friendly enough to have me at Priory Farm, and it will be right that he should know it. There’s other reasons, too. If I can escape from going to his lecture, it will be a blessing. He’ll make a rare fuss; but if I once get to Priory Farm, I can fall ill, or something to avoid it.”
Lydia went home in a melancholy mood after this interview, and her daughter’s unrest descended upon her.
She could not understand the relations between Kellock and Medora. They appeared to be extraordinary, as far as Medora was concerned, and the more Mrs. Trivett considered the various reports, the less able was she to put a cheerful interpretation upon them.