He delayed to reach the place till just before sunset. His sister was walking in the meadows at the foot of the garden, with a nursemaid who carried 143 the baby, and she looked up pensively when he approached. Anxiety as to her position had already told upon her once rosy cheeks and lucid eyes. But concern for herself and child was displaced for the moment by her regard of Roger’s worn and haggard face.
“Why, you are sick, Roger! You are tired! Where have you been these many days? Why not keep me company a bit? My husband is much away. And we have hardly spoke at all of dear father and of your voyage to the New Land. Why did you go away so suddenly? There is a spare chamber at my lodging.”
“Come indoors,” he said. “We’ll talk now—talk a good deal. As for him (nodding to the child), better heave him into the river; better for him and you!”
She forced a laugh, as if she tried to see a good joke in the remark, and they went silently indoors.
“A miserable hole!” said Roger, looking around the room.
“Nay, but ’tis very pretty!”
“Not after what I’ve seen. Did he marry ’ee at church in orderly fashion?”
“He did sure—at our church at Havenpool.”
“But in a privy way?”
“Ay, because of his friends—it was at night time.”