The window was still open, the curtains had not been drawn, the last of

daylight from without mingled with faint intrusion from the lamp within;

there was a scent of new-mown grass. With the wisdom of a long life old

Jolyon did not speak. Even grief sobbed itself out in time; only Time

was good for sorrow--Time who saw the passing of each mood, each emotion

in turn; Time the layer-to-rest. There came into his mind the words: 'As

panteth the hart after cooling streams'--but they were of no use to him.

Then, conscious of a scent of violets, he knew she was drying her eyes.

He put his chin forward, pressed his moustache against her forehead, and

felt her shake with a quivering of her whole body, as of a tree which

shakes itself free of raindrops. She put his hand to her lips, as if

saying: "All over now! Forgive me!"

The kiss filled him with a strange comfort; he led her back to where she

had been so upset. And the dog Balthasar, following, laid the bone of

one of the cutlets they had eaten at their feet.

Anxious to obliterate the memory of that emotion, he could think of

nothing better than china; and moving with her slowly from cabinet to

cabinet, he kept taking up bits of Dresden and Lowestoft and Chelsea,

turning them round and round with his thin, veined hands, whose skin,

faintly freckled, had such an aged look.

"I bought this at Jobson's," he would say; "cost me thirty pounds.

It's very old. That dog leaves his bones all over the place. This old

'ship-bowl' I picked up at the sale when that precious rip, the Marquis,

came to grief. But you don't remember. Here's a nice piece of Chelsea.

Now, what would you say this was?" And he was comforted, feeling that,

with her taste, she was taking a real interest in these things; for,

after all, nothing better composes the nerves than a doubtful piece of

china.

When the crunch of the carriage wheels was heard at last, he said:

"You must come again; you must come to lunch, then I can show you these

by daylight, and my little sweet--she's a dear little thing. This dog

seems to have taken a fancy to you."

For Balthasar, feeling that she was about to leave, was rubbing his side

against her leg. Going out under the porch with her, he said:

"He'll get you up in an hour and a quarter. Take this for your

protegees," and he slipped a cheque for fifty pounds into her hand. He

saw her brightened eyes, and heard her murmur: "Oh! Uncle Jolyon!" and

a real throb of pleasure went through him. That meant one or two poor

creatures helped a little, and it meant that she would come again. He

put his hand in at the window and grasped hers once more. The carriage

rolled away. He stood looking at the moon and the shadows of the trees,

and thought: 'A sweet night! She...!'




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