"It was _fine_ to-day, Missis! There was
three found peace. And the congregation was grand! There was four
attorneys--two of 'em from as far as Pengarth." And he would lend her
tracts--and even offer, good man, to borrow a "shandrey" from a
neighbour, and drive her himself to the chapel service. But Netta only
smiled or yawned at him; and as for the tracts, she hid them under the
few sofa cushions the house possessed.
Mr. Tyson, the agent, came to the house as seldom as he could, that he
might not quarrel with his employer before it was to his own interest to
do so. Netta discovered that he pitied her; and once or twice, drawing on
the arts of flirtation, with which the Florentine woman is always well
acquainted, she complained to him of her loneliness and her husband's
unkindness. But his north-country caution protected him from any
sentimentalizing, however innocent. And before the end of the winter
Netta detested him. Meanwhile she and Anastasia lived for one hope only.
From many indications it was plain that Melrose was going south in March.
The women were determined not to stay behind him. But, instinctively,
they never raised the subject, so as not to risk a struggle prematurely.
Meanwhile Melrose passed a winter wholly satisfactory to himself. The
partial unpacking of his collections was an endless source of amusement
and pleasure. But his curious egotism showed itself very plainly in the
business. He made no attempt at artistic arrangement, though there was
some classification.
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