Page 348 - sons-and-lovers

‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I said I’d be early.’ He was very awk-
ward.
‘But this IS early,’ said Mrs. Leivers.
Miriam sat in the rocking-chair, and did not speak. He
hesitated, expecting her to rise and go with him to the barn
as usual for his bicycle. She remained as she was. He was at
a loss.
‘Well—good-night, all!’ he faltered.
She spoke her good-night along with all the others. But
as he went past the window he looked in. She saw him pale,
his brows knit slightly in a way that had become constant
with him, his eyes dark with pain.
She rose and went to the doorway to wave good-bye to
him as he passed through the gate. He rode slowly under the
pine-trees, feeling a cur and a miserable wretch. His bicycle
went tilting down the hills at random. He thought it would
be a relief to break one’s neck.
Two days later he sent her up a book and a little note,
urging her to read and be busy.
At this time he gave all his friendship to Edgar. He loved
the family so much, he loved the farm so much; it was the
dearest place on earth to him. His home was not so lov-
able. It was his mother. But then he would have been just as
happy with his mother anywhere. Whereas Willey Farm he
loved passionately. He loved the little pokey kitchen, where
men’s boots tramped, and the dog slept with one eye open
for fear of being trodden on; where the lamp hung over the
table at night, and everything was so silent. He loved Miri-
am’s long, low parlour, with its atmosphere of romance, its