It had made it very awkward for them
when Mr. Farolles, of St. John’s, called the
same afternoon.
“The end was quite peaceful,
I trust?” were the first words he said as he
glided towards them through the dark drawing-room.
“Quite,” said Josephine
faintly. They both hung their heads. Both
of them felt certain that eye wasn’t at all
a peaceful eye.
“Won’t you sit down?” said Josephine.
“Thank you, Miss Pinner,”
said Mr. Farolles gratefully. He folded his
coat-tails and began to lower himself into father’s
arm-chair, but just as he touched it he almost sprang
up and slid into the next chair instead.
He coughed. Josephine clasped
her hands; Constantia looked vague.
“I want you to feel, Miss Pinner,”
said Mr. Farolles, “and you, Miss Constantia,
that I’m trying to be helpful. I want to
be helpful to you both, if you will let me.
These are the times,” said Mr Farolles, very
simply and earnestly, “when God means us to be
helpful to one another.”
“Thank you very much, Mr. Farolles,”
said Josephine and Constantia.
“Not at all,” said Mr.
Farolles gently. He drew his kid gloves through
his fingers and leaned forward. “And if
either of you would like a little Communion, either
or both of you, here and now, you have only to tell
me. A little Communion is often very help—a
great comfort,” he added tenderly.
But the idea of a little Communion
terrified them. What! In the drawing-room
by themselves—with no—no altar
or anything! The piano would be much too high,
thought Constantia, and Mr. Farolles could not possibly
lean over it with the chalice. And Kate would
be sure to come bursting in and interrupt them, thought
Josephine. And supposing the bell rang in the
middle? It might be somebody important—about
their mourning. Would they get up reverently
and go out, or would they have to wait…in torture?
“Perhaps you will send round
a note by your good Kate if you would care for it
later,” said Mr. Farolles.
“Oh yes, thank you very much!” they both
said.
Mr. Farolles got up and took his black straw hat from
the round table.
“And about the funeral,”
he said softly. “I may arrange that—as
your dear father’s old friend and yours, Miss
Pinner—and Miss Constantia?”
Josephine and Constantia got up too.
“I should like it to be quite
simple,” said Josephine firmly, “and not
too expensive. At the same time, I should like—”
“A good one that will last,”
thought dreamy Constantia, as if Josephine were buying
a nightgown. But, of course, Josephine didn’t
say that. “One suitable to our father’s
position.” She was very nervous.
“I’ll run round to our
good friend Mr. Knight,” said Mr. Farolles soothingly.
“I will ask him to come and see you. I
am sure you will find him very helpful indeed.”