An hour later they went to see Holly Court again. It was even lovelier
than ever in the sweet spring twilight. Triangles of soft light lay
upon its dusty, yet polished, floors. Bert said that the place
certainly needed precious little furniture; Nancy added eagerly that
one maid could do all the work. She drew a happy sketch of Bert and his
friends, arriving hot and weary from the city, on summer afternoons,
going down to the bay for a plunge, and coming back to find supper
spread on the red-tiled porch. Bert liked the idea of winter fires,
with snow and darkness outside and firelight and warmth within, and the
Bradleys' friends driving up jolly and cold for an hour's talk, and a
cup of tea.
"What do you think, dear?" said Bert to his wife, very low, when the
agent had considerately withdrawn for a few minutes, and they could
confer. "Think!" repeated Nancy, in delicate reproach, "Why, I suppose
there is only one thing to think, Bert!"
"You--you like it, then?" he asked, a little nervously. "Of course,
it's a corking place, and all that. And, as Rogers says, with what we
have we could swing it easily. You see dear, I pay ten thousand, and
take up twelve thousand more as a mortgage. Even then there's three
thousand--"
Nancy looked despair.
"But that could be covered by a second mortgage," he reminded her,
quickly. "That's a very ordinary thing. Everyone does that. Rogers will
fix it up for me."
"Really, Bert?" she asked doubtfully.
"Oh, certainly! We do it every day, in the office. However, we've got
to think this thing over seriously. It's twice--in fact, it's more than
twice what we said. There's the interest on the mortgage, and the cost
of the move, and my commutation, and club dues. Then of course,
living's a little higher--there are no shops, just telephone service,
the shops are in the village."
"But think of car fares--and how simply the children can dress," Nancy
countered quickly. "And if they have all outdoors to play in, why, I
could let Anna go, and just send out the laundry!"
"Well, we could think it over----" Bert began uncomfortably, but she
cut him short. They had been standing beside one of the windows, and
looking out at the soft twilight under the trees; now Nancy turned to
her husband a pale, tense face, and rather bright eyes.
"Albert," said she, quickly and breathlessly, "if I could have a home
like this I'd manage somehow! You've been saying we could have a nurse
to help with the children--but I'd have one servant all my life--I'd do
my own work! To have our friends down here--to have the children grow
up in these surroundings--to have that club to go to--! We're not
building for this year, or next year, dear. We've got the children's
future to think of. Mind, I'm not trying to influence you, Bert," said
Nancy, her eager tone changing suddenly to a flat, repressed voice,
"You are the best judge, of course, and whatever you decide will be
right. But I merely think that this is the loveliest place I ever saw
in my life, and exactly what we've been hunting for--only far, far
nicer!--and that if we can't have it we'd simply better give up
house-hunting, because it's a mere waste of time, and resign ourselves
to living in that detestable city for ever and ever! Of course to go on
as we are going on, means no friends and no real home life for the
children, everyone admits that the city is NO PLACE FOR CHILDREN, and
another thing, we'll never find anything like this again! But you do as
you think best. Only I--that's what I feel, if you ask me."
And having talked the colour into her cheeks, and the tears into her
eyes, Nancy turned her back upon her husband, and looked out into the
garden again.