Then a little relaxation offered of the mildest. Mrs. Trivett was able to report that Mary Dolbear and her husband had forgiven Medora, and she and Kellock were invited to tea at Priory Farm.
He agreed to go and assured her that here promised the beginning of better times.
“The people are coming to see the light of truth,” he said. “You can always count on the natural good feeling of your fellow creatures, Medora, if you’ll only be patient with them and give them time.”
They arrived upon a Sunday afternoon in Spring and Jordan improved the occasion as they walked through the green lanes.
“The Spring teaches us that nothing is an end to itself, but everything a beginning to something else,” he said. “You realise that more in the Spring than the Summer, or Winter, and yet it’s just as true all the year round.”
“And so with our present situation. It’s not complete in itself.”
“It’s becoming unbearable if you ask me.”
“No; we can stand it, because our position is impregnable. We can afford to be patient; that’s the fine thing about rectitude: it can always be patient. Wrong-doing can’t. Perhaps he’s spoken to your mother on the subject. If he has not, then I shall feel it will soon be my duty to see him again, Medora.”
She was silent and presently, as they topped the hill and reached the Priory ruins in Tom Dolbear’s orchard, Jordan spoke again.
“That crowing cock reminds me of something I thought on in the night,” he said; and Medora, glad that the ruin had not put him in recollection of the last time they were there, expressed interest.
“You think a lot at night, I know,” she said.
“It was a bird in the inn yard crowing, and I thought how wise men are like the cock and crow in the night of ignorance to waken up humanity. But nobody likes to be woke up, and so they only get a frosty greeting and we tell them to be quiet, so that we may sleep again.”
“A very true thought, I’m sure,” she answered, smothering a yawn. Then, as they entered the orchard by a side gate, a child or two ran to meet Medora. At tea Mrs. Dolbear expressed tolerant opinions.
“I judge nobody,” she said. “More does my husband. I only hope you’ll soon put it right, so as not to give evil-disposed people the power to scoff. However, of course, that’s not in your power. Ned Dingle will suit his own convenience no doubt, and you must try and bear it best way you can.”