"In fact, she won't let me whisper a word," said Martin to Mrs. Bascombe,
"and 'tis treason to her in a way my coming to you at all; but I feel
terrible sure you can help, and it looks as if it would be all right and
regular and suit everybody if she was to take me and leave the coast clear
for you when you wed her parent."
"It does look like that to a plain sight," admitted Nelly, "but in truth
things be very different. And for your confidence, in strict secrecy, I
can give you mine. Warner don't want her to go. He badly wants me and her
both, while, for her part, she don't want to go and hates the thought;
but, so far, she's determined to do so if I come."
"That ain't love, however," argued Mr. Ball.
"It ain't," admitted Nelly Bascombe, "and you mustn't fox yourself to
think she'll come to you for love. A good helper she'd be to any man in
her own way; but she belongs to the order of women who can't love very
grand as a wife. She do love as a daughter can love a father, however, and
it's very clear to me that John Warner is her life in a manner of
speaking. On the other hand, it would upset her existence to the very
roots if I went to Wych Elm at farmer's right hand, where naturally I
should be."
Mr. Ball listened and nodded, and his blue eyes rested upon Mrs.
Bascombe's grey ones.
"You throw a great light," he said. "In a word, there was deeper reasons
far than any growing affection for me that have made her so on-coming of
late?"
"God forbid as I should suggest such a thing as that," answered Nelly.
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