"What'd a clergyman know about _my_ soul? He might know about his own,
but I know all about mine that I've got to know. 'Tain't much--but it's
enough."
Tom was relieved. He didn't want to disturb Honey by bringing in a
stranger nor was he more sure than Honey that any good could be done by
it. He was more relieved still when Honey explained himself further.
"Do yer suppose I've come to where I am now without thinkin' them
things out, when Gord give me a genius for doin' it? I don't say I've
did it as well as them as has had more eddication; but Gord takes
us with the eddication what we've got. Eddication's a fine thing; I
don't say contrairy; but I don't believe as it makes no diff'rence
to Gord. If you and me was before Him--me not knowin' 'ardly nothink,
and you stuffed as you are with learnin' till you're bustin' out
with it--I don't believe as Gord'd say as there was a pinch o' snuff
between us--not to him there wouldn't be." A little wearily he made his
confession of faith. "Gord made me; Gord knows me; Gord'll take me just
the way I am and make the best o' me, without no one else buttin' in."
* * * * *
It was the middle of an afternoon. If anything, Honey was better. All
spring was blowing in at the windows, while the trees were in April
green, and the birds jubilant with the ecstasy of mating.
"Beats everythink the way I dream," Honey confided, in a puzzled tone.
"Always dreamin' o' my mother. Haven't 'ardly thought of her these
years and years. Didn't 'ardly know her. Died when I was a little kid;
and yet...."
He lay still, smiling into the air. Tom was glad to find him cheerful,
reminiscent. Never in all the years he had known him had Honey talked
so much of his early life as within the last few days.
"Used to take us children into the country to see a sister she had
livin' there.... Little village in Cheshire called King's Clavering....
See that little cottage now.... Thatched it was.... Set a few yards
back from the lane.... Had flowers in the garden ... musk ... and
poppies ... and London pride ... and Canterbury bells ... and old
man's love ... and cherry pie ... and raggedy Jack ... and sailor's
sweetheart ... funny how all them names comes back to me...."
Again he lay smiling. Tom also smiled. It was the first day he had had
any hope. It was difficult not to have hope when Honey was so free from
pain, and so easy in his mind. As to pain he had not had much since
the accident had benumbed him; but there had always been something he
seemed to want to say. To-day he had apparently said everything, and so
could spend the half-hour of Tom's visit on memories of no importance.
"Always had custard for tea, my mother's sister had. Lord, how us young
ones'd...."
The recollection brought a happy look. Tom was glad. With pleasant
thoughts Honey would not have the wistful yearning in his eyes which he
had turned on him lately whenever he went away.
"There was a hunt in Cheshire. Onst I saw a lord--a dook, I think he
was--ridin' to 'ounds. Sat his 'orse as if he was part of him, he
did...."
This too died away without sequence, though the happy look remained.
The smile grew rapt, distant perhaps, as memory took him back to long
forgotten trifles. Just outside the window a robin fluted in a tree.