Part 38 (1/2)

Whither was it all tending? Jan wondered.

No further news had come from Hugo; Peter, she supposed, had sailed and was due in London at the end of the week.

Then Mr. Huntly With.e.l.ls asked her one afternoon to bicycle over to see his spring irises--he called them ”_irides_,” and invariably spoke of ”_croci_,” and ”_delphinia_”--and as Meg was taking the children to tea at the vicarage, Jan went.

To her surprise, she found herself the sole guest, but supposed she was rather early and that his other friends hadn't come yet.

They strolled about the gardens, so lovely in their spring blossoming, and it happened that from one particular place they got a specially good view of the house.

”How much larger it is than you would think, looking at the front,” Jan remarked. ”You don't see that wing at all from the drive.”

”There's plenty of room for nephews and nieces,” Mr. With.e.l.ls said jocularly.

”Have you many nephews and nieces?” she asked, turning to look at him, for there was something in the tone of his voice that she could not understand.

”Not of my own,” he replied, still in that queer, unnatural voice, ”but you see my wife might have ... if I was married.”

”Are you thinking of getting married?” she asked, with the real interest such a subject always rouses in woman.

”That depends,” Mr. With.e.l.ls said consciously, ”on whether the lady I have in mind ... er ... shall we sit down, Miss Ross? It's rather hot in the walks.”

”Oh, not yet,” Jan exclaimed. She couldn't think why, but she began to feel uncomfortable. ”I must see those Darwin tulips over there.”

”It's very sunny over there,” he objected. ”Come down the nut-walk and see the _myosotis arvensis_; it is already in bloom, the weather has been so warm.

”Miss Ross,” Mr. With.e.l.ls continued seriously, as they turned into the nut-walk which led back towards the house, ”we have known each other for a considerable time....”

”We have,” said Jan, as he had paused, evidently expecting a reply.

”And I have come to have a great regard for you....”

Again he paused, and Jan found herself silently whispering, ”Curtsy while you're thinking--it saves time,” but she preserved an outward silence.

”You are, if I may say so, the most sensible woman of my acquaintance.”

”Thank you,” said Jan, but without enthusiasm.

”We are neither of us quite young”--(Mr. With.e.l.ls was forty-nine, but it was a little hard on Jan)--”and I feel sure that you, for instance, would not expect or desire from a husband those constant outward demonstrations of affection such as handclaspings and kisses, which are so foolish and insanitary.”

Jan turned extremely red and walked rather faster.

”Do not misunderstand me, Miss Ross,” Mr. With.e.l.ls continued, looking with real admiration at her downcast, rosy face--she must be quite healthy he thought, to look so clean and fresh always--”I lay down no hard-and-fast rules. I do not say should my wife desire to kiss me sometimes, that I should ... repulse her.”

Jan gasped.

”But I have the greatest objection, both on sanitary and moral grounds to----”

”I can't imagine anyone _wanting_ to kiss you,” Jan interrupted furiously; ”you're far too puffy and stippled.”