'He said he would be walking this way, if it was fine,' said Nelly,
indifferently.
Both relapsed into silence. Then Miss Martin enquired after Bridget. The
face beside her darkened a little.
'She's very well. She knows about the telegram. She thought I was a
great goose to be so anxious. She's making an index now--for the book!'
'The psychology book?'
'Yes!' A pause--then Nelly looked round, flushing.
'I can't talk to Bridget you see--about George--or the war. She just
thinks the world's mad--that it's six to one and half a dozen to the
other--that it doesn't matter at all who wins--so long of course as the
Germans don't come here. And as for me, if I was so foolish as to marry
a soldier in the middle of the war, why I must just take the
consequences--grin and bear it!'
Her tone and look showed that in her clinging way she had begun to
claim the woman beside her as a special friend, while Hester Martin's
manner towards her bore witness that the claim excited a warm
response--that intimacy and affection had advanced rapidly since George
Sarratt's departure.
'Why do you put up with it?' said Miss Martin, sharply. 'Couldn't you
get some cousin--some friend to stay with you?'
Nelly shook her head. 'George wanted me to. But I told him I couldn't.
It would mean a quarrel. I could never quarrel with Bridget.'
Miss Martin laughed indignantly. 'Why not--if she makes you miserable?'
'I don't know. I suppose I'm afraid of her. And besides'--the words
came reluctantly--: 'she does a lot for me. I _ought_ to be very
grateful!'
Yes, Hester Martin did know that, in a sense, Bridget did 'a lot' for
her younger sisters. It was not many weeks since she had made their
acquaintance, but there had been time for her to see how curiously
dependent young Mrs. Sarratt was on Miss Cookson. There was no real
sympathy between them; nor could Miss Martin believe that there was ever
much sense of kinship. But whenever there was anything to be done
involving any friction with the outside world, Bridget was ready to do
it, while Nelly invariably shrank from it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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