He came again to the threshold in a few minutes, a peculiar expression on his face which somehow seemed to tell Robinette what had happened.
“Come in, Mrs. Robin,” he said very gravely and gently. “You need not be afraid.”
Robinette instinctively held out her hand to him and they entered the little room together.
She need not have feared for the old woman’s distress over the ruined plum tree, for nothing would ever grieve Nurse Prettyman again. Just as she had lain down the night before, she lay upon her bed now, having passed away in her sleep. “And they that encounter Death in sleep,” says the old writer, “go forth to meet him with desire.” The aged face was turned slightly upwards and wore a look of contentment and repose that made life seem almost gaudy; a cheap thing to compare with this attainment....
Robinette came out of the cottage a little later, leaving the neighbours who had gathered in the room to their familiar and not uncongenial duties. She went into the garden, where Mark Lavendar awaited her. He longed to try to comfort her; indeed, his whole heart ran out to her in a warmth and passion that astounded him; but her pale face, stained with weeping, warned him to keep silence yet a little while.
“I just came for one branch of the blossom,” Robinette said, “if it is not all withered. Yes, this is quite fresh still.” She took a little spray he had found for her and stood holding it as she spoke. “Only yesterday it was all so lovely! Oh! Mr. Lavendar, I needn’t cry for my old Nurse, I’m sure! How should I, after seeing her face? She had come to the end of her long life, and she was very tired, and now all that is forgotten, and she will never have a moment of vexation about her tree. I don’t know why I should cry for her; but oh, 306 how could Carnaby destroy that beautiful thing!”
“It was a genuine though mistaken act of conscience! You must not be too hard on Carnaby!” pleaded Lavendar. “He would not touch the money that was to come from the sale of Mrs. Prettyman’s cottage under the circumstances, so it seemed best to him that the sale should not take place, and he prevented it in the directest and simplest way that occurred to him. It’s like some of the things that men have done to please God, Mrs. Robin,” Mark added, smiling, “and thought they were doing it, too! But Carnaby only wanted to please you!”
“To please me!” exclaimed Robinette, looking round her at the ruin before them. “Oh dear!” she sighed, “how confusing the world is, at times! I am just going to take this snowy branch and lay it on Nurse’s pillow. She so loved her tree! See; it’s quite fresh and beautiful, and the dew still upon it, just like tears!”