It all came back to her like a vision of safety and peace. There Messrs. Forde and Kleinwort could not intrude; there they might shut their door and bar out the world, and not even Mr. Swanland could compel them to shelter a man in possession; there she could go into her kitchen undeterred by the thought of strangers loafing around the fire; there they might have their dry morsel in quietness; there she would be free from the scrutiny of Mr. Meadows, and the eternal bickering of workmen; there Mr. Bayley would have no right to come at early morn and dewy eve, and neither would Mr. Swanland's head and confidential clerk, who appeared perpetually at Homewood to hear Mr. Meadows' report, and to make sure the Mortomleys were not interfering with the business, or making away with goods, or inciting the men to rebellion, or, in a word, misconducting themselves in any way which should authorise Mr. Swanland in taking active steps to teach them their true position.
As for Mr. Werner and all their former acquaintances, she tried to forget she had ever called a human being friend.
"What I have to do now I must do for myself," she decided, as she drove through the night, her husband's head pillowed on her shoulder. "If we must pass through the valley of humiliation, it shall henceforth be alone. We have trod it long enough in sight of the public."
Perhaps she underrated the extent of the responsibility she thus assumed; perhaps in her anger against Mr. Werner, and her remembrance of all the misery she had endured at Homewood, she omitted to look on the other side of the canvas, and see the picture of solitude, anxiety, poverty, and lingering illness ultimately painted there; but spite of this, though she took her bold step in haste, she never repented it had been forced upon her—never, not even when she was weary and downhearted, not even when the burden seemed greater than she could bear, did Dolly regret she decided not to take her husband back to Homewood.
And yet, as she stood at the gate struggling with an unknown lock, her heart did sink within her for a moment.
It was only for a moment, however, for when after another fight with the key of the hall-door, she entered the house and lighted the gas with some matches she had been wise enough to purchase on her way, together with some other articles, a great sense of security and contentment came over her, and she felt, so far as she was concerned, if there had not been a bed or table in the house, if she had been compelled to sleep on the bare boards, she would cheerfully have done so rather than pass another night under the same roof with Mr. Meadows or any person of his profession.
Full of this feeling she returned to the cab, and asked the driver to assist her husband to alight. Fortunately, he was a strong, capable fellow, or they must have sent for further assistance.
To her utter dismay, Dolly found it impossible to rouse the sick man to a sense of what was required from him, the moderate exertion of struggling to a standing position, and almost in despair she strove with all her strength to lift him from his seat.
"Let me try, ma'am," said Cabby, and he took Mortomley in his arms, and the moment after was supporting him on the side-path; then the strange man and she managed between them to lead him up the short walk and the little flight of steps leading to the hall door.
"Can we get him upstairs?" Dolly asked in despair, for one look at his face under the gaslight showed her his illness had returned, that he was as bad as he could well be.