The Wheels of Time

by Florence L. Barclay

It was a relief to see her depart, with her neat, gentlemanly luggage, for Liverpool Street Station, and yet it seemed desolate without her, and the klip-klop of her rapidly receding hansom made a second sound to be added to the series of knells which should ring in Flower's heart that day.

Turning from the hall-door, she ran up to the nursery, to find out at what hour nurse wished to be free for her outing, and found it was to-morrow for which nurse had asked, not to-day. Nurse was quite sure she had said Wednesday; how could she have said Tuesday, when the married niece to whom she was going always went out to tea on Tuesdays with her mother-in-law in Pimlico? But, of course, Master Deryck was hammering at the time, which may have accounted for his mamma not rightly catching the day. Emma came forward, a ready witness to the fact that nurse had most certainly said Wednesday, and stuck to her guns, in spite of Dicky's quiet little voice asserting gravely from the position he had taken up at his mother's side, "You had gone down for the milk."

So the doctor's wife retreated in discomfiture and trailed slowly downstairs, facing the fact that the one reason which had seemed an insuperable obstacle to her falling in with her husband's wish and plan, had been a mistake; a stupid, careless mistake.

What would Jane say if she knew?

The tersely expressed remark with which Jane would most likely define the situation came into her mind, and she smiled a wan little smile, for the doctor's wife possessed "the saving sense of humor."

Then she felt more cheerful, rang and ordered the motor, and dressed for a spin in the park. But everything spoke of Brighton and the enjoyment she might have had with the doctor on this lovely day.

The sun was almost warm, and there was a pursuing scent of violets in the air. The crocuses were shouting to the sparrows, and the many-colored hyacinths pushed their bright heads up through the brown earth, obedient to the beckoning of the sunshine. The whole park sang of springtime, of life and love and joys to come. And she longed for him beside her, with his keen enjoyment, with his quick way of pointing out a fresh beauty which she might otherwise have overlooked, with his knack of making you feel that you were alive, and living every minute to the full, receiving all it had to give, and, above all, with the ever-kindling adoration of his love wrapping her round and making her feel herself to be good and beautiful and worthy.

This afternoon she sadly needed reinstating in her own esteem. She knew she was being unjust to herself, but she felt selfish and inadequate and unworthy of him and of his love. It was Jane who had given her this uncomfortable feeling. It was odious of Jane to call him "Boy" and to pretend to understand his needs better than she, his own wife, did. Oh, if only she had gone to Brighton! If only she had gone! But it was not her fault that she had been unable to fall in with the plan at so short notice. Deryck himself had admitted that it was he who was to blame, and she was not to worry. It was all very well for men to tell poor, anxious women not to worry. He might have known she would be wondering all the rest of the day how he was faring at Brighton, whether he was too tired to eat and too tired to sleep. If only horrid old celebrities would die at once when they fell ill, instead of causing all this fuss and trouble.... It would be a great pity to be too tired to eat at the Metropole, where the table d'hôte dinner was so perfect.... It was trying of Deryck to rush off with only a packet of sandwiches in his bag, when, by taking five minutes more from his tiresome patients, he might have had the wing of a chicken and some salad.... What a good lunch Jane had made! If she had really been so troubled at the thought of Deryck going off alone she would hardly have hurried into the dining-room the moment the gong sounded and given her mind so completely to her food. Jane was the sort of person who enjoyed putting other people in the wrong. So different to Deryck, who saw at once where the blame really belonged and never laid it upon others. Which was it most right to believe—Deryck or Jane? Deryck, of course. Then why feel condemned any longer?... How lovely it would have been at Brighton! A selfish person would have gone at once and not have been so considerate for tiresome old nurse with her changeable plans. People who change their plans without any adequate reason do not deserve much consideration. If she had been a less devoted mother—How sweet it was of Dicky to point out that Emma had gone down for the milk! So like Deryck, who never would allow her to be unjustly put in the wrong. It was wonderful to be so loved by two such natures, father and son. A woman who was selfish or unworthy could never have drawn out such love. Jane was not in the least likely ever to marry. How disgusting of her to speak so approvingly of married women who ran after Deryck. Perhaps, after all, one of those creatures would happen to be at the Metropole this evening and would insist upon dining with him at a table for two.

Another wan little smile flitted across Flower's face. The dimple the doctor loved peeped out. She knew so exactly how he would feel and look, and how he would describe the whole occurrence to her afterwards, giving her unconsciously the gratifying certainty that in her absence no other woman could by any possibility usurp her place.

The gliding motion of the car made her drowsy. She leaned back with closed eyes, enjoying the sensation of speeding forward, trusting to the deft vigilance of her chauffeur, not even seeing for herself the possible collisions avoided, the rapid half-turn which meant gliding from danger into safety.