They had begun the final descent into Chelford and the wind now brought a fine rain against their faces. Neither spoke again until the grey roofs of the village came into sight at a turning of the road. "About money matters, Roger," Barney said. "Mother and Meg and Barbara. If you get through, and I don't, will you see to them for me? I've appointed you my trustee. I told Adrienne last summer that I couldn't take any of her money any longer, so that, of course, with my having thrown up the city job and taken on the farms, my affairs are in a bit of a mess. But I hope they'll be able to go on at Coldbrooks all right. Palgrave will have Coldbrooks if I don't come back, and perhaps you'll be able to prevent him handing it over to his Socialist friends."
"Palgrave would be safely human if it came to taking care of his mother and sisters," said Oldmeadow.
Across the village green the lights of The Little House shone at them. The curtains were still undrawn and, as they waited at the door, they could see Nancy in the drawing-room, sitting by the fire alone.
"I want you to come in with me, please, Roger," said Barney. "Nancy hasn't felt it right to be very kind to me of late and she'll be able to be kinder if you are there. You'll know, you'll see if a chance comes for me to say what I want to say to her. You might leave us for a moment then."
"You have hardly more than a half-hour, you know," said Oldmeadow.
"One can say a good deal in a half-hour," Barney replied.
Nancy had risen and, as they entered, she came forward, trying to smile and holding out her hand to each. But Oldmeadow was staying there. He was not going in half an hour. There was no reason why Nancy should give him her hand and Barney, quietly, took both her hands in his. "It's good-bye, then, Nancy, isn't it?" he said.
They stood there in the firelight together, his dear young people, both so pale, both so fixedly looking at each other, and Nancy still tried to smile as she said, "It's dear of you to have come." But her face betrayed her. It was sick with the fear that, in conquering her own heart, she should hurt Barney's; Barney's, whom she might never see again. Oldmeadow went on to the fire and stood, his back to them, looking down at it.