The postman's time for passing was just after Melbury's men had
assembled in the spar-house; and Winterborne, who when not busy on his
own account would lend assistance there, used to go out into the lane
every morning and meet the post-man at the end of one of the green
rides through the hazel copse, in the straight stretch of which his
laden figure could be seen a long way off. Grace also was very
anxious; more anxious than her father; more, perhaps, than Winterborne
himself. This anxiety led her into the spar-house on some pretext or
other almost every morning while they were awaiting the reply.
Fitzpiers too, though he did not personally appear, was much
interested, and not altogether easy in his mind; for he had been
informed by an authority of what he had himself conjectured, that if
the tree had been allowed to stand, the old man would have gone on
complaining, but might have lived for twenty years.
Eleven times had Winterborne gone to that corner of the ride, and
looked up its long straight slope through the wet grays of winter dawn.
But though the postman's bowed figure loomed in view pretty regularly,
he brought nothing for Giles. On the twelfth day the man of missives,
while yet in the extreme distance, held up his hand, and Winterborne
saw a letter in it. He took it into the spar-house before he broke the
seal, and those who were there gathered round him while he read, Grace
looking in at the door.
The letter was not from Mrs. Charmond herself, but her agent at
Sherton. Winterborne glanced it over and looked up.
"It's all over," he said.
"Ah!" said they altogether.
"Her lawyer is instructed to say that Mrs. Charmond sees no reason for
disturbing the natural course of things, particularly as she
contemplates pulling the houses down," he said, quietly.
"Only think of that!" said several.
Winterborne had turned away, and said vehemently to himself, "Then let
her pull 'em down, and be d--d to her!"
Creedle looked at him with a face of seven sorrows, saying, "Ah, 'twas
that sperrit that lost 'em for ye, maister!"
Winterborne subdued his feelings, and from that hour, whatever they
were, kept them entirely to himself. There could be no doubt that, up
to this last moment, he had nourished a feeble hope of regaining Grace
in the event of this negotiation turning out a success. Not being
aware of the fact that her father could have settled upon her a fortune
sufficient to enable both to live in comfort, he deemed it now an
absurdity to dream any longer of such a vanity as making her his wife,
and sank into silence forthwith.