Silence fell upon this enigma of Janet's entirely unaccountable nephew.
"Charlie _may_ be married," said Edwin humorously, at length. "You never
know! It's a funny world! I suppose you've seen," he looked
particularly at his auntie, "that your friend Parnell's dead?"
She affected to be outraged.
"I've seen that Parnell is dead," she rebuked him, with solemn
quietness. "I saw it on a poster as I came up. I don't want to be
uncharitable, but it was the best thing he could do. I do hope we've
heard the last of all this Home Rule now!"
Like many people Mrs Hamps was apparently convinced that the
explanation of Parnell's scandalous fall and of his early death was to
be found in the inherent viciousness of the Home Rule cause, and also
that the circumstances of his end were a proof that Home Rule was cursed
of God. She reasoned with equal power forwards and backwards. And she
was so earnest and so dignified that Edwin was sneaped into silence.
Once more he could not keep from his face a look that seemed to
apologise for his opinions. And all the heroic and passionate grandeur
of Parnell's furious career shrivelled up to mere sordidness before the
inability of one narrow-minded and ignorant but vigorous woman to
appreciate its quality. Not only did Edwin feel apologetic for himself,
but also for Parnell. He wished he had not tried to be funny about
Parnell; he wished he had not mentioned him. The brightness of the
birthday was for an instant clouded.
"I don't know what's coming over things!" Auntie Hamps murmured sadly,
staring out of the window at the street gay with October sun shine.
"What with that! And what with those terrible baccarat scandals. And
now there's this free education, that we ratepayers have to pay for.
They'll be giving the children of the working classes free meals next!"
she added, with remarkably intelligent anticipation.
"Oh well! Never mind!" Edwin soothed her.
She gazed at him in loving reproach. And he felt guilty because he only
went to chapel about once in two months, and even then from sheer moral
cowardice.
"Can you give me those measurements, Maggie?" Mrs Hamps asked
suddenly. "I'm on my way to Brunt's."
The women left the room together. Edwin walked idly to the window.
After all, he had been perhaps wrong concerning the motive of her visit.
The next moment he caught sight of Janet and the unaccountable nephew,
breasting the hill from Bursley, hand in hand.