“When ye sit by the fire yourselves to warm,
Take care that your tongues do your neighbours no
harm.”
Old Chimney-piece Motto.
Christmas had passed and they were engaged for a fortnight at Mardentown, one of the large manufacturing places. It was on a frosty clear morning early in the new year that Myra set out from her rather comfortless lodgings to call on Evereld. There was no rehearsal that day and she happened to know that both Macneillie and Ralph were out, so that the coast would be clear for her operations.
“I shall be doing a kindness to her as well as to Ivy and Mr. Vane-Ffoulkes,” she reflected. “She is so very innocent, it is high time she understood a little more of the ways of the world.”
Evereld was sitting by the fire in a cheerful-looking room into which the wintry sun shone brightly; flowers were on the table, Christmas cards daintily arranged were on the mantelpiece; there was a homelike air about the place which Myra at once noted, and she looked with a pang at the little garment at which the young wife was working when she entered.
“My husband told me Mr. Macneillie was at the theatre so I came in to have a chat with you,” she said kissing her affectionately. “You are looking pale this morning, dear, this wandering life is getting too hard for you.”
“Oh, I am very well,” said Evereld brightly, “and as to the travelling I shall not have much more of that for at the beginning of February I have promised to go and stay with Mrs. Hereford in London. They all say it is right, so I mustn’t grumble, but I do so hate leaving Ralph.”
“He can come to you for the Sundays,” said Myra. “Where has he gone to this morning?”