"Lecture!" ejaculated Wilmott.
"Yes. Lecture. She pointed out a card in the window of the bookshop, advertising the one she was giving that night. She begged me to attend it. Fortunately Kate was a little indisposed, so I was able to go alone".
"And Mrs. Wilmott mounted a platform and lectured!" cried Adeline. "Eh, but I should have liked to hear her. Was there a crowd?"
"The hall was not very well filled but those who were there could not have been more enthusiastic. She roused them to a really vindictive anger. They would have marched forth and set fire to the house of any slave-owner-if they could have found one".
"It puzzles me", said Wilmott, "how she could have kept to the one subject. Her tongue had a fashion of running away with her".
"It did run away with her!" exclaimed Brent. "That’s just the point. Words literally poured from her. She submerged the audience with words. She gave us statistics and tortures in the same breath. For my part, if it hadn’t been for Kate, I was almost ready to join in the campaign. In a small clear penetrating voice-"
"Ah", said Wilmott gloomily. "I know that voice. It used to beat on my brain for hours after we had gone to bed and something had started her lecturing".
"Lecturing-ah, there you are! She’s a born lecturer. In your day, she had an audience of only one. Now she has hundreds and it will not surprise me if, before this controversy is finished, she has thousands. After the lecture she was besieged by people who were interested. Then I escorted her to her hotel and we had a long talk. That is to say, I listened and she talked".
"Did she speak of me?" asked Wilmott.
"She did that. She said that your leaving her had been the greatest mercy of her life. She said that, with the exception of giving her Hettie, it was the one good thing you had ever done for her".
"She said not a word of my having crippled myself financially to leave her in security?"
"Not a word. She even spoke of your indolence, your lack of ambition. She said that, having dedicated herself to her great mission, she never wanted to hear of you again and that if you should, in time to come, seek her out and beg for forgiveness, she would cast you off".
"She did, did she, eh?" said Wilmott, with a savage grin.
Adeline sprang to her feet. She embraced Wilmott.
"Oh, James", she cried, "what glorious news for you!"
She then turned to Brent and embraced him.
"How splendid you have been!" she exclaimed. "Have you breathed a word of this to Kate?"
"Not a word-and never shall. As a matter of fact, dear Mrs. Whiteoak, there are so many little incidents in my own past which I must conceal from Kate that this from Wilmott’s is imperceptible".
"Oh, you rogue!" said Adeline, kissing him.
No one could call Wilmott a rogue. He stood glowering at them.
"Aren’t you delighted?" asked Brent.
"Yes. I am delighted. Did Mrs. Wilmott speak of my daughter?"
"Hettie! Ah, yes, Hettie! Her mother is very pleased with Hettie. That girl is transformed. She too has thrown herself into the work. She has grown tall and strong and serious. She was seated at a small table inside the door of the lecture hall. She was distributing pamphlets against slavery. Selling autographed copies of a booklet written by her mother, at fifty cents each. The proceeds to go to the Cause. I bought one for you. Here it is".
He unbuttoned his coat and took the booklet from his inner pocket. Wilmott accepted it gingerly.
"Thank you", he said. "Thank you, very much".
"You know", said Brent, "if ever this affair should leak out-as, so help me God! it never will through me-you can say quite simply that you and your wife separated because of her views on slavery. You can express a profound sympathy with the South".
"He could say nothing that would make him more unpopular here", said Adeline. "We’re all against slavery".
"Then say", continued Brent, unabashed, "that she would never stay at home as a wife should but was always gallivanting over the country, lecturing. Say you parted by mutual agreement, which I can certify you have".
"Thank you", said Wilmott, turning over the booklet in his hands.
"Splendid", Adeline agreed. "The very thing".
Kate Brent came seeking them.
"There are strawberries and cream!" she called. "Do come, everybody! The berries are monstrous big and the cream as thick as Michael’s brogue".
"My treasure", said Brent, "I will follow you to the ends of the earth-if you offer me strawberries".
"Will you kindly give my excuses to Mrs. Lacey?" said Wilmott. "I have to go home".
They could not dissuade him. Adeline lingered a moment. "It’s ended better than we could have hoped for, hasn’t it? And you think I did well in making Michael Brent our confidant, don’t you?"
"I think you did superbly well. But, all the same-in spite of my relief-I feel that I cut a comic figure in all this".
"That is the trouble with you!" she cried. "You are always thinking of people’s opinion. Now I never consider what people will think".
"It is a part of your charm that you don’t. But I have no charm".
"James, you are one of the most charming men I know. And you ought to be one of the happiest".
"So I shall be. I promise you".
They parted and he followed the path through the luxuriant growth of July, to his own house.
Whenever he had been away, his first thought on returning was to wonder what Tite was doing. Now he found him by the river’s edge, painting a wheelbarrow bright blue from a new pot of paint.
"Well, Tite", he said, "what are you up to?"
Tite made a graceful gesture with the paint-brush.
"Boss, my grandfather gave me this wheelbarrow because he is old and has no more use for it. But I do not like a red wheelbarrow, so-I paint it blue!"
"And a very good wheelbarrow it is. Tite, are you sure your grandfather gave it to you? You told me he was very poor".
"So he is, Boss. That is why he has nothing more than a wheelbarrow to leave me. He guesses he’s soon going to die".
"And where did you get the pot of paint?"
"Boss, I found it floating on the river".
Wilmott sighed and went into the house. There was an ineffable sense of peace in it. He sat down by the table and took out Henrietta’s booklet. He read it through. Then he laid it on the hearth and touched it with a lighted match. In an instant it was blazing. One word stood out from the printed page. Slavery.
A quiet smile lighted Wilmott’s face.
"Well", he said aloud, "she’s set me free, thank God. I can begin again-in peace".
Tite put his head in at the door. "Boss", he said, "I want to say something".
Wilmott raised his head. "Yes, Tite?"
"Boss, the folks where the garden-party is gave me a basket of strawberries. I’ve a dish of them ready for your tea. There’s cream from our own cow".
"That sounds appetising, Tite. I’m hungry. Bring the strawberries along".
Tite draped himself gracefully against the side of the door.
"Boss, the servant-girl at the place they call Jalna gave me a slab of plum cake".
"She did! Well, that was handsome of her. Let’s have tea".
Tite made a sudden leap forward, like a young animal galvanised by pleasure. He pulled off the red felt table-cover and in its place laid a square of clean white linen. He began to place the dishes in orderly fashion. Wilmott put on the kettle. At first he had eaten his meals alone but he had grown so fond of Tite that he had enjoyed his company at table. The boy was slim, clean, well-behaved. Physically he was beautiful. Wilmott had ambitions for him. As they sat eating their strawberries and thick cream, Wilmott said:
"I am going to teach you many things, Tite. History, geography, mathematics, English literature and even Latin".