The Three Sisters
May Sinclair
The Three Sisters LXIV
The next day (it was a Friday), when Mary came home to tea after a round of ineffectual calling she was told that Miss Gwenda was in the drawing-room.
Dr. Rowcliffe was in but he was engaged in the surgery.
Mary thought she knew why Gwenda had come to-day.
For the last two or three Wednesdays Rowcliffe had left Garthdale without calling at the Vicarage.
Her sister had ignored her day, and Mary was offended.
She had every reason. Mary believed in keeping up appearances, and the appearance she most desired to keep up was that of behaving beautifully to her sister. This required her sister's co-operation. It couldn't appear if Gwenda didn't. And Gwenda hadn't given it a chance. She meant to have it out with her.
She greeted her therefore with a certain challenge.
"What are you keeping away for? Do you suppose we aren't glad to see you?"
"I'm not keeping away," said Gwenda.
"It looks uncommonly like it. Do you know it's two months since you've been here?"
"Is it? I've lost count."
"I should think you did lose count!"
"I'm sorry, Molly. I couldn't come."
"You talk as if you had engagements every day in Garthdale."
"If it comes to that, it's months since you've been to us."
"It's different for me. I _have_ engagements. And I've my husband and children too. Steven hates it if I'm out when he comes home."
"And Papa hates it if _I'm_ out."
"It's no use minding what Papa hates. What's making you so sensitive?"
"Living him."
"Then for goodness sake get away from him when you can. One afternoon here can't matter to him."
Mary went on, exasperated by her sister's silence.
"We may as well have it out while we're about it. Why can't you look me straight in the face and say plump out what I've done?"
"You've done nothing."
"Well, is it Steven, then? Has he done anything?"
"Of course he hasn't. What _could_ he do?"
"Poor Steven, goodness knows! I'm sure I don't. No more does he. Unless----"
She stopped. Her sister was looking her straight in the face now.
"Unless what?"
"My dear Gwenda, don't glare at me like that. I'm not saying things and I'm not thinking them. I don't know what _you're_ thinking. If you weren't so nervy you'd own I've always been decent to you. I'm sure I _have_ been. I've always stood up for you. I've always wanted to have you here----"
"And why shouldn't you?"
"I never said you weren't decent to me, Molly."
"You behave as if I weren't."
"How am I to behave?"
"I know it's difficult," said Mary. The memory of her blunder rankled.
"My _dear_ Molly----"
Mary ignored her look of weary tolerance.
"Because you can't expect him to keep on running up to Garthdale when Papa's all right."
"I don't expect him."
"Well then----!" said Mary with the air of having exhausted all plausible interpretations.
"If I were offended," said Gwenda, "should I be here?"
The appearance of the tea-tray and the parlormaid absolved Mary from the embarrassing compulsion to reply. She addressed herself to the parlormaid.
"Tell Dr. Rowcliffe that tea is ready and that Miss Gwendolen is here."
"Is it true that Steven's going to give up his practice?" Gwenda said presently.
"Well no--whatever he does he won't do that," said Mary.
She thought, "So that's what she came for. Steven hasn't told her anything."
"What put that idea into your head?" she asked.
"Somebody told me so."
"He _has_ had an offer of Dr. Harker's practice in Leeds, and he'd some idea of taking it. He seemed to think it might be a good thing."
There was a flicker in the whiteness of Gwenda's face. It arrested Mary.
"He thought it would be a good thing," she said.
"I think I've convinced him," said Mary, "that it wouldn't."
Gwenda was stiller and more withdrawn than ever, guarding her idea.
"Can I see Steven before I go?" she said presently.
"Of course. He'll be up in a second----"
"I can't--here."
Mary stared. She understood.
"You're ill. Poor dear, you shall see him this minute."
She rang the bell.