She had passed through such sharp suffering in the year that had gone that this resolution was but the natural sequence of this suffering.
Though she had meted out the strongest share of blame to Winnie, she could not but feel that the marriage between Winnie and Hubert would never have been carried through had not the man been exceedingly weak, and Polly, much as she had learned to care for Hubert, honestly despised a weak man.
And since Hubert had failed so signally, Polly saw no reason why others should not fail, too, and as she did not want to court any more sharp disappointments, she armed herself stoutly against all growth of tender feeling for other people.
Even with Grace Ambleton she had restrained herself; but with Val she determined there should be no half measures, and she demonstrated her success to herself by shedding many bitter tears over him when he was gone.
“But I won’t let myself care for him! I won’t—I won’t!” she said, doggedly, as she wiped away her tears. “He will be just like all the rest. Why should he be any better? They all seemed so nice in the beginning, and he is very nice now, but as soon as ever I let myself feel I care for him, I know he will turn round and do something horrible! Besides, I want to feel I am strong enough to do everything for mother by myself.”
It was a poor sort of consolation, nevertheless, to rely on this pride in the days that followed.
Polly’s task was a weighty one, and everything seemed more impossible and hopeless since poor Harold’s death, for with this death the iron of despair seemed to have eaten into the bereaved mother’s heart, and Polly caught some of this despair.
Time wound itself along slowly enough, and when the world was beginning to deck itself in its summer clothing, Hubert Kestridge and his wife came back to London.
They took up their abode in a smart hotel, as far removed from Winnie’s old home as possible.
The man had suggested offering to rent some rooms in that big, empty house, but Winnie Kestridge was far more selfish and far-seeing even than Winnie Pennington had been. She vetoed this idea at once, and Hubert had not pressed it. In truth, it would have been a great ordeal to him to have lived under the same roof as Polly. He dreaded, yet longed to see her again.