Part 55 (2/2)

”I was meaning to act for the best.”

”Just lend me your scarf, will you. This wind takes one's hair so.”

”Certainly, dear girl. Are you all right now?”

”Look! My hands have stopped trembling.”

”And have quite forgiven me? Then listen. Her cab should already have arrived at Howards End. (We're a little late, but no matter.) Our first move will be to send it down to wait at the farm, as, if possible, one doesn't want a scene before servants. A certain gentleman”--he pointed at Crane's back--”won't drive in, but will wait a little short of the front gate, behind the laurels. Have you still the keys of the house?”

”Yes.”

”Well, they aren't wanted. Do you remember how the house stands?”

”Yes.”

”If we don't find her in the porch, we can stroll round into the garden.

Our object--”

Here they stopped to pick up the doctor.

”I was just saying to my wife, Mansbridge, that our main object is not to frighten Miss Schlegel. The house, as you know, is my property, so it should seem quite natural for us to be there. The trouble is evidently nervous--wouldn't you say so, Margaret?”

The doctor, a very young man, began to ask questions about Helen. Was she normal? Was there anything congenital or hereditary? Had anything occurred that was likely to alienate her from her family?

”Nothing,” answered Margaret, wondering what would have happened if she had added: ”Though she did resent my husband's immorality.”

”She always was highly strung,” pursued Henry, leaning back in the car as it shot past the church. ”A tendency to spiritualism and those things, though nothing serious. Musical, literary, artistic, but I should say normal--a very charming girl.”

Margaret's anger and terror increased every moment. How dare these men label her sister! What horrors lay ahead! What impertinences that shelter under the name of science! The pack was turning on Helen, to deny her human rights, and it seemed to Margaret that all Schlegels were threatened with her. ”Were they normal?” What a question to ask! And it is always those who know nothing about human nature, who are bored by psychology--and shocked by physiology, who ask it. However piteous her sister's state, she knew that she must be on her side. They would be mad together if the world chose to consider them so.

It was now five minutes past three. The car slowed down by the farm, in the yard of which Miss Avery was standing. Henry asked her whether a cab had gone past. She nodded, and the next moment they caught sight of it, at the end of the lane. The car ran silently like a beast of prey. So unsuspicious was Helen that she was sitting in the porch, with her back to the road. She had come. Only her head and shoulders were visible. She sat framed in the vine, and one of her hands played with the buds. The wind ruffled her hair, the sun glorified it; she was as she had always been.

Margaret was seated next to the door. Before her husband could prevent her, she slipped out. She ran to the garden gate, which was shut, pa.s.sed through it, and deliberately pushed it in his face. The noise alarmed Helen. Margaret saw her rise with an unfamiliar movement, and, rus.h.i.+ng into the porch, learnt the simple explanation of all their fears--her sister was with child.

”Is the truant all right?” called Henry.

She had time to whisper: ”Oh, my darling--” The keys of the house were in her hand. She unlocked Howards End and thrust Helen into it. ”Yes, all right,” she said, and stood with her back to the door.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

”Margaret, you look upset!” said Henry.

Mansbridge had followed. Crane was at the gate, and the flyman had stood up on the box. Margaret shook her head at them; she could not speak any more. She remained clutching the keys, as if all their future depended on them. Henry was asking more questions. She shook her head again. His words had no sense. She heard him wonder why she had let Helen in. ”You might have given me a knock with the gate,” was another of his remarks.

Presently she heard herself speaking. She, or someone for her, said, ”Go away.” Henry came nearer. He repeated, ”Margaret, you look upset again.

My dear, give me the keys. What are you doing with Helen?”

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