He burst out one day, at luncheon: "The most scandalous thing!" he said."We had them here once, years ago, and the harm they did no one would believe.I've been to Tamar about it; he can do nothing, unless they disturb the public peace, of course.He had the impertinence to tell me that they behaved very well last time they were here!""I don't like that man," said Grace."I don't believe he makes his money properly.Look at the clothes Mrs.Tamar wears! What I mean is, I don't like his wife at all.""It's very hard," said Paul, his voice trembling with indignation,"that when men and women have been working for years to bring Christ into the hearts of mankind that mountebanks and hypocrites should be allowed to undo the work in the space of a night.I know this man Thurston.They've had letters in the Church Times about him.""Fancy!" said Grace, "and still he dares show his face.""But do they really do so much harm?" asked Maggie."I should have thought if they only came once for a week in ten years they couldn't make any real effect on anybody--""Maggie, dear," said Paul gently, "you don't understand."As the day of the Revival approached, Maggie knew that she would go to one of the services.She was now in a strange state of excitement.The shock of her uncle's death had undoubtedly shaken her whole balance, moral, physical, and mental.The fortnight that had followed it, when she had clung like a man falling from a height and held by a rocky ledge to the one determination not to look either behind or in front of her, had been a strain beyond her strength.
She did not know; she did not feel any weakness; she felt rather a curious atmosphere of light and expectation as though that cry to Martin in her bedroom had truly been answered.And she felt more than this.Old Magnus had once said to her: "I don't know what religion is except that it is a fight--and some people join in because they want to, some are forced to join in whether they want to or no, some just leave it alone, and some (most) don't know there's one going on at all.But if you don't join in you seem to me to have wasted your time."She had not understood in the least what he meant; she did not understand now; but, thinking of his words, it did seem to her that she was sharing in some conflict.The vast armies hidden from her by mist, the contested ground also hidden, but the clash of arms clearly to be heard.Her own part of a struggle seemed to be round her love for Martin; it was as though, if she could get some realisation of that, she would have won her way to a vantage-point whence she could visualise the next place.She did not think this out.She only felt in her heart a little less lonely, a little less wicked and selfish, a little less deserted, as though she were drawing nearer to some hidden fire and could feel the first warm shadow of the flames.
She made one more appeal to Grace on the very morning of the first day of the Revival.
After breakfast Maggie came into the drawing-room and found Grace sitting there sewing.
She stood, timidly, in her old attitude, her hands clasped in front of her, like a child saying her lesson.
"I beg your pardon, Grace."
Grace looked up.She had of course been conscious of Maggie ever since her entrance into the room.Her hands had trembled and her heart leapt furiously.
"Why, Maggie--" she said.
"I'm afraid I'm disturbing you," said Maggie, "but we haven't really said anything to one another for the last fortnight.I don't suppose that you want me to say anything now, but things get worse and worse if no one says anything, don't they?" Now that she had begun she went on quickly: "I wanted to say, Grace, how sorry I am for the trouble and unhappiness that you and Paul have had during the last fortnight through me.I've been nothing but a trouble to you since Ifirst came here, but it wasn't that that I wanted to say.I couldn't bear that you should think that I was just selfishly full of my own affairs and didn't understand how you and Paul must feel about--about my uncle.Not that I mean," she went on rather fiercely, raising her head, "that he was to blame.No one ever understood him.
He could have done great things if--if--some one had looked after him a little.But he hadn't any one.That was my fault.I didn't want you and Paul to think I don't blame myself.I do all the time.
I can't promise to be better in the future because I've promised so often and I never am.But I am sorry."Grace said nothing for a moment.Her hands trembled more than ever.
Then, without looking up, she murmured as though to her sewing:
"Oh no.Maggie...no one blames you, I'm sure."There was another pause, then Grace said:
"I think I'm not well.No, I can't be well because I'm not sleeping, although I've taken aspirin more, I'm sure, than I ought to.What Imean is that they say it's bad for your heart.Of course things have been very unfortunate, from the beginning one might say, but I'm sure it's not been any one's fault exactly.What I mean is that these things never are...No, they aren't really.I expect we all want a change.""What are you frightened of me for, Grace," asked Maggie.
Grace started as though Maggie had indeed dropped a bomb at her feet.She looked up at Maggie, wildly, her eyes staring about the room as though she were looking for some exit of escape.
"Frightened?" she repeated.
"Yes, you are," said Maggie."That's what worries me most.No one's ever been frightened of me before--at least I don't think any one has." Maggie laughed."Why, Grace, it seems so funny any one being frightened of me.I couldn't hurt any one if I wanted to, and I'm sure I never want to unless it's Mrs.Maxse.Be angry with me as much as you like, Grace, but don't be frightened of me.Why, that's ridiculous!"It was the worst word to have chosen.Grace flushed a dull unwholesome purple.
"I'm sorry you think me ridiculous, Maggie," she said."Perhaps Iam.I'm sure I don't know.Yes, perhaps I am.What I mean is that what's ridiculous to one is not ridiculous to another.You're a strange girl, Maggie, and you and I will never get on.No, never.