David Herbert Lawrence

probe of mortal agony, which throughout eternity would never lose

its power to pierce to the quick!

Alvina seemed to keep strangely calm and aloof all the days after

the death. Only when she was alone she suffered till she felt her

heart really broke.

"I shall never feel anything any more," she said in her abrupt way

to Miss Frost's friend, another woman of over fifty.

"Nonsense, child!" expostulated Mrs. Lawson gently.

"I shan't! I shall never have a heart to feel anything any more,"

said Alvina, with a strange, distraught roll of the eyes.

"Not like this, child. But you'll feel other things--"

"I haven't the heart," persisted Alvina.

"Not yet," said Mrs. Lawson gently. "You can't expect--But

time--time brings back--"

"Oh well--but I don't believe it," said Alvina.

People thought her rather hard. To one of her gossips Miss Pinnegar

confessed:

"I thought she'd have felt it more. She cared more for her than she

did for her own mother--and her mother knew it. Mrs. Houghton

complained bitterly, sometimes, that _she_ had _no_ love. They were

everything to one another, Miss Frost and Alvina. I should have

thought she'd have felt it more. But you never know. A good thing if

she doesn't, really."

Miss Pinnegar herself did not care one little bit that Miss Frost

was dead. She did not feel herself implicated.

The nearest relatives came down, and everything was settled. The

will was found, just a brief line on a piece of notepaper expressing

a wish that Alvina should have everything. Alvina herself told the

verbal requests. All was quietly fulfilled.

As it might well be. For there was nothing to leave. Just

sixty-three pounds in the bank--no more: then the clothes, piano,

books and music. Miss Frost's brother had these latter, at his own

request: the books and music, and the piano. Alvina inherited the

few simple trinkets, and about forty-five pounds in money.

"Poor Miss Frost," cried Mrs. Lawson, weeping rather bitterly--"she

saved nothing for herself. You can see why she never wanted to grow

old, so that she couldn't work. You can see. It's a shame, it's a

shame, one of the best women that ever trod earth."

Manchester House settled down to its deeper silence, its darker

gloom. Miss Frost was irreparably gone. With her, the reality went

out of the house. It seemed to be silently waiting to disappear. And

Alvina and Miss Pinnegar might move about and talk in vain. They

could never remove the sense of waiting to finish: it was all just

waiting to finish. And the three, James and Alvina and Miss

Pinnegar, waited lingering through the months, for the house to come

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