nd she got in. She sat
in the four-wheeler, smiling. And how far this was due to Chardonnet she
did not consider. She was to love and not worry. It was wonderful! In
this mood she was put down, still smiling, at the Tottenham Court Road
Tube, and getting out her purse she prepared to pay the cabman. The fare
would be a shilling, but she felt like giving him two. He looked so
anxious and worn, in spite of his red face. He took them, looked at her,
and said: "Thank you, miss; I wanted that."

"Oh!" murmured Nedda, "then please take this, too. It's all I happen to
have, except my Tube fare."

The old man took it, and water actually ran along his nose.

"God bless yer!" he said. And taking up his whip, he drove off quickly.

Rather choky, but still glowing, Nedda descended to her train. It was
not till she was walking to the Spaniard's Road that a cloud seemed to
come over her sky, and she reached home dejected.

In the garden of the Freelands' old house was a nook shut away by
berberis and rhododendrons, where some bees were supposed to make honey,
but, knowing its destination, and belonging to a union, made no more than
they were obliged. In this retreat, which contained a rustic bench,
Nedda was accustomed to sit and read; she went there now. And her eyes
began filling with tears. Why must the poor old fellow who had driven
her look so anxious and call on God to bless her for giving him that
little present? Why must people grow old and helpless, like that
Grandfather Gaunt she had seen at Becket? Why was there all the tyranny
that made Derek and Sheila so wild? And all the grinding poverty that she
herself could see when she went with her mother to their Girls' Club, in
Bethnal Green? What was the use of being young and strong if nothing
happened, nothing was really changed, so that one got old and died seeing
still the same things as before? What was the use even of loving, if
love itself had to yield to death? The trees! How they grew from tiny
seeds to great and beautiful things, and then slowly, slowly dried and
decayed away to dust. What was the good of it all? What comfort was
there in a God so great and universal that he did not care to keep her
and Derek alive and loving forever, and was not interested enough to see
that the poor old cab-driver should not be haunted day and night with
fear of the workhouse for himself and an old wife, perhaps? Nedda's
tears fell fast, and how far THIS was