“Things be come to a climax, seemingly. Mr. Knox whispered to me that Ned might have a bit of good news for Kellock. On the other hand, perhaps he had not. Any way, your good is Jordan’s good, and his evil is your evil now; so you’d best to get to him as quick as you can, and stop with him if he wishes you to do so, as he doubtless will.”
In a couple of hours Medora sat at “The Waterman’s Arms.” She expected an emotional meeting, and indeed felt emotional. For a time Jordan’s sufferings weighed with her, and she found sympathy wakening for him. But he appeared much as usual, and while gratified at her swift return, held himself well in hand and made no great parade of his misfortune.
“Mother properly scared me to death,” explained Medora. “I do hope to God it’s not as bad as she said. How d’you feel, dear? You look pale.”
“I feel all right in myself.”
“It’s that lecture. Why don’t you give it up?”
“No, Medora. It’s nothing to do with the lecture. I can think of the lecture calmly enough. I’m very glad you came so quick. It’s a comfort to me first, and second, I’ve got a lot to tell you. You must brace yourself, for it’s bad news.”
“More?”
“What has lost me my stroke happened last night, Medora. I saw Mr. Dingle, and I heard more than enough to put any man off his stroke.”
“You don’t mean to say he’s going to take your money?”
“My money! Good powers, what’s that? He can have my money to the last penny if he likes. It’s far worse. I hate to say it—it’s enough to kill any pure woman—it’s very nearly killed me, I believe; but you’ve got to hear it, Medora, though it sweeps away the firm ground from under our feet and leaves us without any foothold. He—he won’t divorce you!”