‘Oh! quite, sir, quite,’ replied Oliver.
‘I would rather you did not mention it to them,’
said Harry, hurrying over his words; ’because
it might make my mother anxious to write to me oftener,
and it is a trouble and worry to her. Let it
be a secret between you and me; and mind you tell me
everything! I depend upon you.’
Oliver, quite elated and honoured by a sense of his
importance, faithfully promised to be secret and explicit
in his communications. Mr. Maylie took leave
of him, with many assurances of his regard and protection.
The doctor was in the chaise; Giles (who, it had been
arranged, should be left behind) held the door open
in his hand; and the women-servants were in the garden,
looking on. Harry cast one slight glance at
the latticed window, and jumped into the carriage.
‘Drive on!’ he cried, ’hard, fast,
full gallop! Nothing short of flying will keep
pace with me, to-day.’
‘Halloa!’ cried the doctor, letting down
the front glass in a great hurry, and shouting to
the postillion; ’something very short of flying
will keep pace with me. Do you hear?’
Jingling and clattering, till distance rendered its
noise inaudible, and its rapid progress only perceptible
to the eye, the vehicle wound its way along the road,
almost hidden in a cloud of dust: now wholly
disappearing, and now becoming visible again, as intervening
objects, or the intricacies of the way, permitted.
It was not until even the dusty cloud was no longer
to be seen, that the gazers dispersed.
And there was one looker-on, who remained with eyes
fixed upon the spot where the carriage had disappeared,
long after it was many miles away; for, behind the
white curtain which had shrouded her from view when
Harry raised his eyes towards the window, sat Rose
herself.
‘He seems in high spirits and happy,’
she said, at length. ’I feared for a time
he might be otherwise. I was mistaken.
I am very, very glad.’
Tears are signs of gladness as well as grief; but
those which coursed down Rose’s face, as she
sat pensively at the window, still gazing in the same
direction, seemed to tell more of sorrow than of joy.
IN WHICH THE READER MAY PERCEIVE A CONTRAST, NOT UNCOMMON
IN MATRIMONIAL CASES
Mr. Bumble sat in the workhouse parlour, with his
eyes moodily fixed on the cheerless grate, whence,
as it was summer time, no brighter gleam proceeded,
than the reflection of certain sickly rays of the
sun, which were sent back from its cold and shining
surface. A paper fly-cage dangled from the ceiling,
to which he occasionally raised his eyes in gloomy
thought; and, as the heedless insects hovered round
the gaudy net-work, Mr. Bumble would heave a deep
sigh, while a more gloomy shadow overspread his countenance.
Mr. Bumble was meditating; it might be that the insects
brought to mind, some painful passage in his own past
life.
