Mr. Meadows shrank out of the hall as if she had struck him a blow, and Dolly leaning against the lintel of the porch and looking at Mrs. Werner's carriage and horses, which were framed to her by a wreath of clematis and roses, felt for the moment as if she had won a victory.
And by her retreat she had; but it is only after the battle any one engaged can tell when the tide of war began to turn.
It turned for the Mortomleys then. It turned when Mrs. Mortomley lifted up her voice and defied Mr. Swanland's bailiff. In that moment she ensured ultimate success for her husband—at a price.
The years are before him still—the years of his life full of promise, full of hope—that past of bankruptcy, recent though it may be, is, nevertheless, an old story, and the name of Mortomley is a power once more.
There is nothing the man is capable of he need despair of achieving, nothing this world can give him he need fail to grasp, and yet—and yet—I think, I know, that rather than go forth and gather the pleasant fruits ripening for him in distant vineyards, rather than pay the price success exacted ultimately for her wares, the man would have laid him down upon the bed a man in possession held in trust for his employer, and died a pauper, entitled only to a pauper's grave.
But no man can foresee. Happily, or else how many would live miserable.
Dolly could not foresee; she could not foretell the events of even four-and-twenty hours.
But she was nice to others in that her time of trial, and the fact served her in good stead in the evil hours to come.
"I think," she had said to Esther, "that Lang and Hankins would like to see Mr. Mortomley before we go. Lang had better give my husband his arm downstairs, and Hankins can help him into the carriage."
It was nice of Dolly, it was never forgotten about her for ever. It never will be till the children's children are greyheaded. By the carriage door stood the pair, hats in hand, tears running down their cheeks, speaking across Mrs. Werner to their master; their master whom they had loved and robbed, cheated and served honestly, believed in and grumbled concerning through years too long to count. And away in the background were a group of men, the faces of whom appalled Mr. Meadows, men who would have pumped on him had Mrs. Mortomley given the signal, who loved their master, though it might be they had not acted always honestly or straightforwardly by him, and who would at that moment have done any wickedness in his service, had he only pleased to show them the way.