Nellie, impeccable to the last, accompanied him in the motor to Knype,
the main-line station. The drive, superficially pleasant, was in
reality very disconcerting to him. For nine days the household had
talked in apparent cheerfulness of Father’s visit to London, as though
it were an occasion for joy on Father’s behalf, tempered by affectionate
sorrow for his absence. The official theory was that all was for the
best in the best of all possible homes, and this theory was admirably
maintained. And yet everybody knew--even to Maisie--that it was not so;
everybody knew that the master and the mistress of the home, calm and
sweet as was their demeanour, were contending in a terrific silent and
mysterious altercation, which in some way was connected with the visit
to London. So far as Edward Henry was concerned, he had been hoping for
some decisive event--a tone, gesture, glance, pressure--during the drive
to Knype, which offered the last chance of a real concord. No such
event occurred. They conversed with the same false cordiality as had
marked their relations since the evening of the dog-bite. On that
evening Nellie had suddenly transformed herself into a distressingly
perfect angel, and not once had she descended from her high estate. At
least daily she had kissed him--what kisses! Kisses that were not
kisses! Tasteless mockeries, like non-alcoholic ale! He could have
killed her, but he could not put a finger on a fault in her marvellous
wifely behaviour; she would have died victorious.
So that his freakish excursion was not starting very auspiciously. And,
waiting with her for the train on the platform at Knype, he felt this
more and more. His old clerk Penkethman was there to receive certain
final instructions on Thrift Club matters, and the sweetness of Nellie’s
attitude towards the ancient man, and the ancient’s man’s naïve pleasure
therein, positively maddened Edward Henry. To such an extent that he
began to think: "Is she going to spoil my trip for me?"
Then Brindley came up. Brindley, too, was going to London. And
Nellie’s saccharine assurances to Brindley that Edward Henry really
needed a change just about completed Edward Henry’s desperation. Not
even the uproarious advent of two jolly wholesale grocers, Messieurs
Garvin and Quorrall, also going to London, could effectually lighten his
pessimism.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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