Anna of the Five Towns | Page 4

go to football matches, Agnes?' Mynors asked. The child gave
a giggle.
Anna was relieved when these two began to chatter. She had at once,
by a firm natural impulse, subdued the agitation which seized her when
she found Mynors waiting with such an obvious intention at the school
door; she had conversed with him in tones of quiet ease; his attitude
had even enabled her in a few moments to establish a pleasant
familiarity with him. Nevertheless, as they joined the stream of people
in Moor Road, she longed to be at home, in her kitchen, in order to
examine herself and the new situation thus created by Mynors. And yet
also she was glad that she must remain at his side, but it was a fluttered
joy that his presence gave her, too strange for immediate appreciation.
As her eye, without directly looking at him, embraced the suave and
admirable male creature within its field of vision, she became aware
that he was quite inscrutable to her. What were his inmost thoughts, his
ideals, the histories of his heart? Surely it was impossible that she
should ever know these secrets! He--and she : they were utterly foreign
to each other. So the primary dissonances of sex vibrated within her,
and her own feelings puzzled her. Still, there was an instant pleasure,
delightful, if disturbing and inexplicable. And also there was a
sensation of triumph, which, though she tried to scorn it, she could not
banish. That a man and a woman should saunter together on that road
was nothing; but the circumstance acquired tremendous importance
when the man happened to be Henry Mynors and the woman Anna
Tellwright. Mynors--handsome, dark, accomplished, exemplary and

prosperous--had walked for ten years circumspect and Unscathed amid
the glances of a whole legion of maids. As for Anna, the peculiarity of
her position had always marked her for special attention: ever since her
father settled in Bursley, she had felt herself to be the object of an
interest in which awe and pity were equally mingled. She guessed that
the fact of her going to the Park with Mynors that afternoon would pass
swiftly from mouth to mouth like the rumour of a decisive event. She
had no friends; her innate reserve had been misinterpreted, and she was
not popular among the Wesleyan community. Many people would say,
and more would think, that it was her money which was drawing
Mynors from the narrow path of his celibate discretion. She could
imagine all the innuendoes, the expressive nods, the pursing of lips, the
lifting of shoulders and of eyebrows. 'Money 'll do owt': that was the
proverb. But she cared not. She had the just and unshakable self-esteem
which is fundamental in all strong and righteous natures; and she knew
beyond the possibility of doubt that, though Mynors might have no
incurable aversion to a fortune, she herself, the spirit and body of her,
had been the sole awakener of his desire.
By a common instinct, Mynors and Anna made little Agnes the centre
of attraction. Mynors continued to tease her, and Agnes growing
courageous, began to retort. She was now walking between them, and
the other two smiled to each other at the child's sayings over her head,
interchanging thus messages too subtle and delicate for the coarse
medium of words.
As they approached the Park the bandstand came into sight over the
railway cutting, and they could hear the music of 'The Emperor's
Hymn.' The crude, brazen sounds were tempered in their passage
through the warm, still air, and fell gently on the ear in soft waves,
quickening every heart to unaccustomed emotions. Children leaped
forward, and old people unconsciously assumed a lightsome vigour.
The Park rose in terraces from the railway station to a street of small
villas almost on the ridge of the hill. From its gilded gates to its
smallest geranium-slips it was brand-new, and most of it was red. The
keeper's house, the bandstand, the kiosks, the balustrades, the

shelters--all these assailed the eye with a uniform redness of brick and
tile which nullified the pallid greens of the turf and the frail trees. The
immense crowd, in order to circulate, moved along in tight processions,
inspecting one after another the various features of which they had read
full descriptions in the 'Staffordshire Signal' --waterfall, grotto, lake,
swans, boat, seats, faïence, statues-- and scanning with interest the
names of the donors so clearly inscribed on such objects of art and craft
as from divers motives had been presented to the town by its citizens.
Mynors, as he maneuvred a way for the two girls through the main
avenue up to the topmost terrace, gravely judged each thing upon its
merits, approving this, condemning that. In deciding that under all