"And then," she went on, and whether she smiled or was grave he could not tell, for her face was bent over her work, "I have so much to think of--you cannot know how much. Sometimes I feel as if, somehow, the whole world was bound up in me."
For the life of him he could not help a thrill in answer to the thrill of her voice. So he sat looking at her sewing garments for another man's child, until his heart waxed hot, and he said--
"Has it never struck you, Aura, that all this is--just a little rough on me?"
She looked up at him, her beautiful eyes, twin stars of mysterious double life, brimming with swift tears.
"You--you shall be its godfather," she said softly.
He could have cursed, he could have laughed, he could have cried over the pure ridiculousness of the reply; but the pure motherhood in her eyes was too much for him.
"The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof." The phrase came back to his memory, reproving his individualism, setting aside all other claims as trivial.
"Well!" he said, rising as he spoke, "there is nothing more to be said. So--having found you happy--I must be going."
"Going," she echoed incredulously. "Oh, no! You must stop and see Ted. It is Saturday and he is always home by three. You might stop and come with us to Chorley Hill; we go there every week because I like it. You can see the Welsh mountains quite distinctly if it is clear."
Her eyes were clear anyhow. She was her old self again in her eagerness; the girl free, unfettered in every way, who had tramped those Welsh mountains with him so often. He could see her with the wind blowing amongst her bronze, uncovered curls, billowing amongst the folds of her white linen overall. Why did she wear black now? To save the washing bills he expected. And she spent her life chiefly, no doubt, in buying a herring and a half for three halfpence! She, who had never seen a sixpence! A flood of annoyed pity swept through him at the needlessness of the desecration, rousing his antagonism once more.