He was sitting in his favorite position, leaning back in a chair before a window, his hands clasped behind his head. His friendly intercourse with the family had extended beyond the ceremonious epoch, when a man's attitudes are studied and unnatural. In these days Derrick was as much at ease at the Rectory as an only son might have been.
“I thought some one spoke to you across the hedge, Anice?” her mother said.
“Yes,” Anice answered. “It was Joan Lowrie.”
She sat down opposite Fergus, and told him what had occurred. Her voice was not quite steady, and she made the relation as brief as possible. Derrick sat looking out of the window without moving.
“Mr. Derrick,” said Anice at last, after a few minutes had elapsed, “What now is to be done with Joan Lowrie?”
Derrick roused himself with a start to meet her eyes and find them almost sad.
“What now?” he said. “God knows! For one, I cannot see the end.”
CHAPTER XIX - Ribbons
The light in the cottage upon the Knoll Road burned late in these days, and when Derrick was delayed in the little town, he used to see it twinkle afar off, before he turned the bend of the road on his way home. He liked to see it. It became a sort of beacon light, and as such he began to watch for it. He used to wonder what Joan was doing, and he glanced in through the curtainless windows as he passed by. Then he discovered that when the light shone she was at work. Sometimes she was sitting at the wooden table with a book, sometimes she was laboring at some task with pen and ink, sometimes she was trying to use her needle.