“You tell your wife to be broader-minded, Robert Life,” she said suddenly, and he stared at her.

“She’s broad-minded enough for me and all God-fearing creatures I believe,” he answered. “If you want to keep on the narrow path, you’ve got to be narrow-minded about some things, young woman.”

Storm in a Teacup — Part 118

This was too much for Kellock. His pale face flushed. He set down his mould, dried his hands and beckoned to Medora.

Storm in a Teacup — Part 118

“I want to speak to you for five minutes,” he said and they moved together into the open space outside the vat house. But she gave him no time to speak. She poured out her wrongs in a flood.

Storm in a Teacup — Part 118

“It’s up to you now,” she said. “This isn’t going on. I’m not going to have my life made a burden by every beastly, cross-grained cat in Dene for you, or anybody. An ignorant creature like her to call me a bad woman! That’s the limit.”

“You must be patient,” he said. “You shouldn’t have come, Medora. It was a very doubtful thing to do. You must allow for people. We’ve talked all this out before.”

“If we’ve done right, we’ve done right,” she answered; “and if we’ve done right, it isn’t for me to sit down under insult, or for you to let me be insulted. I was born a fighter and you say you was; and if so, you’d best to begin with fighting your future wife’s enemies.”

“That’s all right,” he admitted. “But I ask you to be reasonable. It wasn’t reasonable to come here and face the women.”

“I didn’t face the women then. I didn’t go near ’em. I was only asking a child or two to come into tea. Then that sour slattern, Mercy Life, flew at me as if I’d come to poison her little girl. And I want to know what you’re going to do about it; and I’ve a right to know.”

“Keep calm, keep calm and go home, Medora. Go back to the ‘Arms.’ We’ll talk about it to-night. It’s hard waiting, but—”

“I won’t wait. I’ve no right to be asked to wait.”

“Well, as to that, we’ve got to wait. You say it’s up to me. But you know different.”

“I’ll drown myself if there’s much more of it—God’s my judge,” vowed Medora, then she went her way as the bell rang the dinner hour.

Kellock felt deeply perturbed, and was glad of the interval, for he could not have resumed his work just then. He ate his meal alone and then wandered up the valley with painful thoughts for companions. That Medora could have done so foolish and inconsiderate a thing surprised him harshly. It was part of his illusion concerning her that she was a girl of unusual reasoning powers and excellent mental endowments. Once or twice, indeed, she had said and done what cast a shadow on this conviction; but never had she indicated the possibility of such a futile act as this. That she should have come to the Mill at her own inclination appeared flagrantly foolish.