Anne Severn and the Fieldings - Page 535/574

"You know I shan't. And I'll never give you up, unless Jerrold gets

you."

"Eliot--I only told you about Jerrold, because I thought you ought to

know. So that you mightn't think it was anything in you."

"It isn't something in me, then? Tell me--if it hadn't been for Jerry,

do you think you might have cared for me?"

"Yes. I do. I quite easily might. And I think it would be a jolly good

thing if I could, now. Only I can't. I can't."

"Poor little Anne."

"Does it comfort you to think I'd have cared if it hadn't been for

Jerry?"

"It does, very much."

"Eliot--you're the only person I can talk to about him. Do you mind

telling me whether he said that to you, or whether you just guessed it."

"What?"

"Why, that he wouldn't--ever--"

"I asked him, Anne, because I had to know. And he told me."

"I thought he told you."

"Yes, he told me. But I'm a cad for letting you think he didn't care for

you. I believe he did, or that he would have cared--awfully--if my

father hadn't died just then. Your being in the room that day upset him.

If it hadn't been for that--"

"Yes, but there _was_ that. It was like he was when Binky died and he

couldn't stand Yearp. Don't you remember how he wouldn't let me go with

him to see Yearp because he said he didn't want me mixed up with it.

Well--I've been mixed up, that's all."

"Still, Anne, I'm certain he'd have cared--if that's any comfort to you.

You didn't make it up out of your dear little head. We all thought it.

Father thought it. I believe he wanted it. If he'd only known!"

She thought: If he'd only known how he had hurt her, he who had never

hurt anybody in all his beautiful life.

"Dear Uncle Robert. There's no good talking about it. I knew, the minute

Jerry said he didn't want me to go to India with him."

"Is that why you didn't go?"

"Yes."

"That was a mistake, Anne. You should have gone."

"How could I, after that? And if I had, he'd only have kept away."

"You should have let him go first and then gone after him. You should

have turned up suddenly, in wonderful clothes, looking cheerful and

beautiful. So that you wiped out the memory he funked. As it is you've

left him nothing else to think of."

"I daresay that's what I should have done. But it's too late. I can't do

it now."

"I'm not so sure."

"What, go _after_ Jerrold? Hunt him down? Dress up and scheme to make

him marry me?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes."