"So they say," said Caroline again watching Maggie curiously."Well, anyway, Miss Avies is the strongest of the lot really.I'd back her against anybody.I'm terrified of her myself, I tell you frankly.
She'd wring any one's neck for twopence.Oh yes, she would!...
Then there are the third lot who simply don't believe in Mr.
Warlock's visions at all and just laugh at him.People like Miss Smythe and Mrs.Bellaston.A lot of them are leaving the chapel.Mr.
Warlock won't listen to anybody.He's getting stranger and stranger, and his heart's so bad they say he might die any day if he had a shock.Then he's always quarrelling with Martin."Caroline suddenly stopped.She looked at Maggie.
"Martin's a terrible trial to his father," she said.
But Maggie was secure now.
"Is he?" she asked indifferently.Then she added slowly, "What do you believe, Caroline?""What do I believe?"
"Yes, about Mr.Warlock's visions."
"Oh, of course, it's only because he's ill and prays for hours without getting off his knees, and won't eat enough, that he sees things.And yet I don't know.There may be something in it.If Iwere on my knees for weeks I'd never see anything.But I'll be terribly sorry for Mr.Warlock if the time comes and nothing happens.He'll just have to go."They sat a little longer together and then Caroline said: "Well, darling, I must be off.Where's that note?" She hesitated, looking at Maggie with a wicked gleam in her pale blue eyes."You know, Maggie, I can't make up my mind.I've had an offer of marriage.""I'm so glad, Caroline," said Maggie.
"Yes, but I don't know what to do.It's a man--Mr.Purdie.His father's ever so rich and they've got a big place down at Skeaton.""Where's that?" asked Maggie.
"Oh, don't you know? Skeaton-on-Sea.It's a seaside resort.I've known William for a long time.His father knows father.He came to tea last week, and proposed.He's rather nice although he's so silent.""Why don't you marry him then?" asked Maggie.
"Well, I know Martin Warlock's going to ask me.It's been getting closer and closer.I expect he will this week.Of course, he isn't so safe as William, but he's much more exciting.And he's got quite a lot of money of his own."Strange, the sure, confident, happy security that Maggie felt in her heart at this announcement.
"I should wait for Martin Warlock," she said."He'd be rather fun to marry.""Do you think so?" answered Caroline."Do you know, I believe Iwill.You're always right, you darling...Only suppose I should miss them both.William won't wait for ever! Got that note, dear?"Maggie was defiant.She would just show the creature that she wasn't afraid of her.She'd give her the note and she might imagine what she pleased.
She got a pencil and a piece of paper and wrote hurriedly.
The week is up on Friday.Will you meet me that evening at a quarter past six under the Marble Arch? MAGGIE.
The boldness, the excitement of this inflamed her.It was so like her to challenge any action once she was in it by taking it to its furthest limit.She put it in an envelope and wrote Martin's name with a flourish.
"There!" she said, giving it to Caroline.
"Thank you," said Caroline, and with a number of rather wet and elaborate kisses (Maggie hated kissing) departed.
But her afternoon was not yet over; hardly had Caroline left when the door was opened and Miss Avies was shown in.Maggie started up with dismay and began to stammer excuses.Miss Avies brushed them aside.
"It doesn't matter," she said."You'll do as well--even, it may be, better."A strange woman Miss Avies! Maggie had, of course, seen her at Chapel, but this was the first time that they had been alone together.Miss Avies was like a thin rod of black metal, erect and quivering and waiting to strike.Her long sallow face was stiff, not with outraged virtue, or elaborate pride, or burning scorn, but simply with the accumulated concentration of fiery determination.
She was the very symbol of self-centred energy, inhuman, cold, relentless.Her hair was jet black and gleamed like steel, and she had thick black eyebrows like ink-marks against her forehead of parchment.Her eyes were dead, like glass eyes, and she had some false teeth that sometimes clicked in her mouth.She wore a black dress with no ornament and thin black gloves.
She did not seem, however, to Maggie unkindly, as she stood there, looking about the room rather short-sightedly.(She would not wear glasses.Could it have been vanity?) She was not hostile, nor scornful, nor even patronising...but had Maggie been struck there, dead at her feet she would not have moved a step to help her.
Her voice was ugly, with a crack in it, as though it needed oil.
Maggie, as she looked at her, did not need to be told that she did not believe in Mr.Warlock's mysticism.She came across and shook Maggie's hand.Her touch was cold and stiff and a little damp like that of a wet stone.
"Sorry your Aunt's out," she said, "but I can talk to you for a while." She looked at Maggie for a moment.Then she said:
"Why don't you clear out of all this?"
The voice was so abrupt and the words so unexpected that Maggie jumped.
"Why don't I?" she repeated.
"Yes, you," said Miss Avies."You've no place here in all this business.You don't believe in it, do you?""No," said Maggie.
"And you don't want to use it for something you do believe in?""No," said Maggie."Well then, clear out."Maggie, colouring a little, said:
"My aunts have been very good to me.I oughtn't to leave them.""Fiddlesticks," said Miss Avies."Your life's your own, not your aunts'."She sat down and stayed bolt upright and motionless near the fire;she flung a thin dark shadow like a stain on the wall.There was a long pause between them.After that abrupt opening there seemed to be nothing to say.Maggie's thoughts also were elsewhere.She was wishing now passionately that she had not given that note to Caroline.