As all who acquire a taste for martyrdom, Medora proved amazingly ingenious in plaiting the scourges and selecting the members of the inquisition from her own household. She had reached a preliminary stage in this weak-minded pastime and enjoyed it exceedingly. Ned was much mystified; but the attitude of Ned mattered little. Her real object and the goal of the game lay far beyond Ned. Whereunto all this would lead, Medora did not know; and she told herself that she did not care.
The day was to add a considerable scene to her unfolding drama, though Mrs. Dingle did not guess it when she set out. She had no premonition of the interesting adventure that awaited her when presently she drifted, by hedgerows and lanes, somewhat westward of Ashprington, upon the high road to Totnes.
They were filling their baskets, and for a time Medora had forgotten all about herself and was taking a healthy interest in Daisy’s suspicions concerning a young man who worked at Dene Mill, when a bicycle bell warned them and there flashed along upon his way home, Jordan Kellock.
He stopped and they showed him their blackberries and invited him to help himself. Then, together they walked homeward and Medora became concerned to part from Daisy if possible. An opportunity occurred ere long and when the elder pointed out that Miss Finch would gain half a mile by a short cut, her friend took the hint.
“My basket’s heavy and you’ve got company, so I’ll go this way home,” said Daisy with great tact. Then she bade them good-bye and descended a steep lane to Bow Bridge.
Immediately she had gone, Medora’s manner changed from cheerfulness to a more pensive mien.
“Sometimes it’s so hard to pretend you’re happy,” she explained.
“I’m sorry you’ve got to pretend,” he answered.
He had fought awhile against any sort of secret understanding with Medora, but something of the kind now existed, though Jordan could not have explained how it had come about. It seemed not unnatural, however, because he knew the woman so well and felt so supremely interested in her happiness. He believed, in his youthful inexperience, that he might be able to help both Ned and Medora by virtue of his brains and good sense; and he imagined that his championship of Medora, so to call it, emanated entirely from his own will to right and justice. Had anybody hinted to him that Medora was amusing herself with this very delicate material, he must have refused to believe it. He believed in her good faith as he believed in the stars, and he trusted himself completely for a man above the power of temptation. Indeed, as yet he had felt none.