They were on the borders of Oxfordshire, so far had
poor old Betty Higden strayed. They were to return
by the train presently, and, the station being near
at hand, the Reverend Frank and Mrs Frank, and Sloppy
and Bella and the Secretary, set out to walk to it.
Few rustic paths are wide enough for five, and Bella
and the Secretary dropped behind.
‘Can you believe, Mr Rokesmith,’ said
Bella, ’that I feel as if whole years had passed
since I went into Lizzie Hexam’s cottage?’
‘We have crowded a good deal into the day,’
he returned, ’and you were much affected in
the churchyard. You are over-tired.’
’No, I am not at all tired. I have not
quite expressed what I mean. I don’t mean
that I feel as if a great space of time had gone by,
but that I feel as if much had happened—to
myself, you know.’
‘For good, I hope?’
‘I hope so,’ said Bella.
’You are cold; I felt you tremble. Pray
let me put this wrapper of mine about you. May
I fold it over this shoulder without injuring your
dress? Now, it will be too heavy and too long.
Let me carry this end over my arm, as you have no
arm to give me.’
Yes she had though. How she got it out, in her
muffled state, Heaven knows; but she got it out somehow—there
it was—and slipped it through the Secretary’s.
’I have had a long and interesting talk with
Lizzie, Mr Rokesmith, and she gave me her full confidence.’
‘She could not withhold it,’ said the
Secretary.
‘I wonder how you come,’ said Bella, stopping
short as she glanced at him, ‘to say to me just
what she said about it!’
‘I infer that it must be because I feel just
as she felt about it.’
‘And how was that, do you mean to say, sir?’
asked Bella, moving again.
’That if you were inclined to win her confidence—anybody’s
confidence—you were sure to do it.’
The railway, at this point, knowingly shutting a green
eye and opening a red one, they had to run for it.
As Bella could not run easily so wrapped up, the Secretary
had to help her. When she took her opposite place
in the carriage corner, the brightness in her face
was so charming to behold, that on her exclaiming,
’What beautiful stars and what a glorious night!’
the Secretary said ‘Yes,’ but seemed to
prefer to see the night and the stars in the light
of her lovely little countenance, to looking out of
window.
O boofer lady, fascinating boofer lady! If I
were but legally executor of Johnny’s will!
If I had but the right to pay your legacy and to take
your receipt!—Something to this purpose
surely mingled with the blast of the train as it cleared
the stations, all knowingly shutting up their green
eyes and opening their red ones when they prepared
to let the boofer lady pass.
SCOUTS OUT
‘And so, Miss Wren,’ said Mr Eugene Wrayburn,
’I cannot persuade you to dress me a doll?’
