CHAPTER XL
WANTED—CHOUGHS
Winefred had returned to the cottage on the Undercliff along with her mother.
Her departure had been hurried. She had spoken a few words to Mrs. Tomkin-Jones in explanation of her departure, and had promised to return in a fortnight.
Mrs. T.-J. was troubled in mind. She had entered into negotiations with a butler to be maintained at Winefred's expense. She was vastly alarmed lest the sudden whim to go to Bindon should be a prelude to entire withdrawal, in which event the lady would be obliged to pay the butler a month's wage for having engaged him prematurely.
Moreover, the loss of Winefred would mean stinting in other ways.
As she departed, Winefred said, 'I shall not forget my promise about the choughs.'
At the Undercliff the cottage looked small, the fittings poor after the house at Bath; and the girl was at once aware that her mother's mode of speech differed from that of the society into which she had been introduced. And yet there was a grandeur and force, and even an approximation to culture in her mother's speech, due—she knew not to what—perhaps to the Bible, to the books it had been Winefred's wont to read aloud to her mother every evening.
She was glad to be back. Her mother's happiness at having her there had something pathetic in it, and Winefred was touched to the quick.
It was a pleasure to her to scramble about the cliffs, walk on the pebbles, revisit old haunts.