Chapter IV

There was a letter for John in the morning. His subtenant wrote to say that he liked the flat and found it so convenient that he was very anxious to know whether there was a chance of John giving up possession of it. He was willing to buy the furniture at a fair valuation!...

"Damned cheek," said John. He told the others of the contents of the letter.

"If we were to stay here," Eleanor said, "that offer would be very useful, wouldn't it?"

"It's of no use to us," he answered. "We're not going to stay here!"

In the afternoon, a telegram came from Clotworthy instructing John to return to London immediately. "Will you come with me or come later by yourself?" John said to Eleanor.

She hesitated for a few moments, then going quickly to him and putting her arms about his neck, she whispered, "I don't want to go back to London, John. I want to stay here!"

"You what?"

"I want to stay here. Oh, give up this work and stay at home. Your Uncle is getting old and needs help, and I'll be much happier here than in London!..."

"Give up writing!..."

"You'll be able to do some writing here if you want to!"

"Uncle William hasn't time to take a holiday. What time will I have to write if I take on his work?"

"He has no one to help him. I'll help you!"

"The thing's absurd!"

"No, it isn't. I like being in the shop. I've helped Uncle William a lot. I've made suggestions!..."

"My mother put this idea into your head!"

"No, she didn't. She's talked to me about Ballyards, of course, and the MacDermotts and the shop, but she has not asked me to stay here. It's my own idea. I like this little town, John, and its quiet ways and the comfort of this house. I've always wanted comfort and quietness, and I've got it here. I don't want to go back to the misery of London ... always wondering whether we shall have enough money to pay our bills, and you out half the night. Oh, let's stay here!"

He put her away from him. "No," he said obstinately. "I'm not going to give in!..."

"I'm not asking you to give in!"

"You are. You're asking me to come back here where everybody knows me and knows what I went out to do, and you're asking me to admit to them that I've failed!"

"No, no, dear!..."

"Yes, you are. Because I haven't made a fortune at the start, you all think I'm a failure. Hasn't every man had to struggle and fight for his position, and amn't I fighting and struggling for mine? If you cared for me!..."

"I do care for you, John!"

"Then you'd be glad to fight with me ... and struggle!..."

"Yes, I am prepared to fight with you ... but I'm not going to take risks with the baby!..."

"What's he got to do with it?"

She turned on him angrily. "Are you willing to let him suffer for your books, too? Do you think I'm going to let my child go without things to feed your pride?..."

"He won't have to go without things. I'll earn enough for him and for you."

"Yes, I know. We've seen something of that already. Well, I'm not going back to London, John. I'm simply not going back. You can't expect me to go from this house where I'm happy to that little poky flat in Hampstead and sit there night after night while you are at the office!..."

"Other women do it, don't they?"

"Other women can do what they like. If they're content to live like that, they can, but I'm not content. I don't like that life, and I won't live it. You must make up your mind to that. It isn't necessary for you to go back to the _Sensation_ office--you can stay here and help Uncle William!"

"Become a grocer!..."

"Why not? Isn't it better to be a good grocer than a bad novelist?"

His face flushed and he breathed very heavily. "You're all against me, the whole lot of you. You make little of me. I get no help or encouragement at all. My ma and you and Hinde!..."

"If you were good at that work, you would not need encouragement, would you?"

"I don't need it. I can do without it. I'll prove to you yet that I can write as well as anybody. Never you fear, Eleanor!..."

"I'm not going back to London," she said.

"Well, then, you can stay behind. I'll go back by myself!"

Mrs. MacDermott came into the room. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing," John replied. "I'm going back to London this evening. Eleanor says she's going to stay here!..."

"For good?"

"Aye ... for good."

"And you? When are you coming back?"

"I'm not coming back. She'll have to come to me. You're always talking about the pride of the MacDermotts. Well, I'll show you some of it. I'll not put my foot inside this house till Eleanor comes back to me. It's me that settles where we live ... not her ... not anybody. Do you think I'm going to throw up everything now when I've made a start? I've a new book coming out soon. You know that well ... the whole of you. I know you don't think much of it, Eleanor!..."

"I didn't say that," she interjected.

"But I think a lot of it. I know it's good. I'm sure it's good. And if it does well. I'll be able to leave the _Sensation_ office, and we can live happily together ... but you'll have to come to me. I won't come here to you!..."

He turned to his mother. "Mebbe you're content now," he said. "You've got your way. There's a MacDermott in the house to carry on the business when he's old enough. You'll not need me now!"

He went out of the room, slamming the door behind him, and a little while later, they heard him leaving the house.

"Wait, daughter," said Mrs. MacDermott, taking hold of Eleanor by the hand. "Don't fret yourself, daughter, dear. I lived with his father!..."

"But he always had his own way. You told me so yourself."

"Yes, that's true, but John has some of my blood in him, and my blood clings to its home. Content yourself a wee while!"