George and Edward Webb, eating their hybrid meal at seven o'clock, were startled by the entrance of Theresa. Above her coat collar and below the veil banded across her forehead, her eyes were luminous and black-rimmed.
Edward Webb sprang up and, forgetting the restricting presence of his brother, exclaimed anxiously: "My dear, my dearest! what is the matter?"
"I've had a journey, and the train jolted so."
"In his home, I hope." She became flippant for the benefit of Uncle George. "I'd better tell you. I have resigned the situation. Do you think I can have some of your tea?"
"H'm, and now, I suppose, you'll be wanting another?"
"Will you find me one, Uncle George? If not, I've no doubt Mr. Smith will take me back."
Edward Webb still held Theresa's hand. "I think," he said with dignity, "we need not discuss the matter until Theresa has had some tea. You're cold, my dear."
He seated her by the fire, and brought her tea, and ordered Bessie to bring hot toast.
"Lots of it, please, Bessie," said Theresa.
"And more coal, and perhaps we'd better have Miss Grace."
"But, my dear, I'm afraid you're going to be ill. You're shivering."
"It's just a cold. I want to be alone with you to-night."
"Well, I'm going to finish my tea, anyhow," said Uncle George.
She nodded at him, laughing. He nodded back, in his grim way. This was how they always told each other of their friendship.
"And there was a time when I didn't like you!" she exclaimed involuntarily.
He ducked his head again. "I'm quite aware of that, my girl."
He went to his harmonium, and Bessie, with a thousand fancies in her romantic heart, retired to wash up the dishes.
"It was only because I didn't love him enough," she said, and burst into a foolish weakness of tears.
He was pacing behind her chair, and she heard him muttering: "Thank God! thank God! Are you crying, Theresa? You mustn't do that, my dear. You've come home. I've got you back again. You must be happy." He patted her clumsily on the shoulder, and she dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. "It's good to have you back. We've missed you. Even George admitted that."
"Don't tell me such things," she said. "They've been the ruin of me. And you must let me be miserable for a little while! It's all I can do for Basil. I think I'll go to bed."