“Don’t hope, however; ’tis a very unlikely thing that I should change my state with so many calls.”
“Come to your own conclusions anyway,” he said. “I know what human nature is very well and I know what you are in this house. But don’t let selfishness on the part of other people decide you against me. That would be very unfair to me, and you can’t be unfair to a man that thinks of you as I do.”
“I’ll do nothing unfair to you, Mr. Knox. In fact I’ll do nothing at all for the present. My sister-in-law mustn’t hear a word in her weak state, or the consequences might be bad; and my brother’s cast down also, and so am I. In fact trouble’s everywhere.”
“Regard me as the silver lining to the cloud then. I quite see it was a bit of a staggerer this coming to-day of all days; but at any rate you know now you’ve got a valuable friend. And such I shall remain, whatever happens. Now, no doubt, you’re itching to get supper for all them brats, so I’ll go my way. And I pray God’s blessing on your thoughts, Lydia—I do indeed.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “Yes, you go now. I can’t stand no more, else I shall break down—a thing I’m never known to do. I dare say I’ll see you at the works to-morrow. And don’t say nothing about Medora.”
“Trust me,” he answered. “My one hope will be to help you in that quarter if I can. Don’t you despair. It may straighten out yet, though where two men and a woman’s the matter, there’s seldom more than one chance in fifty that things will come right.”
CHAPTER XII
MEDORA’S NIGHT
In a rowan-red gown and her best hat, Medora had left Ashprington while it was yet twilight of morning. She carried only a light travelling basket made of cane, for she took little more than the clothes on her back. She proposed to begin the new life in new clothes, which would be bought in London. Even her wedding ring was left behind and she told herself that she would not wear such a thing again until Jordan Kellock set it on her finger.