When all this had passed through my brain, I wondered how such a pair
would be received. I knew the gardener and his wife would welcome
them, to begin with; Brownster would be very glad to see them; and I
believe the mother would stand with tears of joy and open arms, in
whatever quiet room she might feel free to await them. Moreover, when
the sterner parent heard my tale and read my pedigree, might he not
consider good name on the one side an equivalent for good money on the
other?
I looked up at her; she did not ask me what I had been thinking about
nor remark upon my silence. She, too, had been wrapped in revery; her
face was grave. She raised her arms from the wall and stood up.
It was plainly time for me to do something, and she decided the point
for me by slightly moving away from the wall. "Some time, when you are
riding out from Walford," she said, "we should be glad to have you
stop and take luncheon. Father likes to have people at luncheon."
"I should be delighted to do so," said I; and if she had asked me to
delay my journey and take luncheon with them that day I think I should
have accepted the invitation. But she did not do that, and she was not
a young lady who would stand too long by a public road talking to a
young man. She smiled very sweetly and held out her hand over the
wall. "Good-bye again," she said. As I took her hand I felt very much
inclined to press it warmly, but I refrained. Her grasp was firm and
friendly, and I would have liked very much to know whether or not it
was more so than was her custom.
I was mounting my wheel when she called to me again. "Now, I suppose,"
she said, "you are going straight on?"
"Oh yes," I replied, with emphasis, "straight on."
"And the name of the hotel where you will stay to-night," said she,
"it is the Cheltenham. I forgot it when I spoke to you before. I do
not believe, really, it is more than three miles beyond the other
little place where you thought of stopping."
Then she walked away from the wall and I mounted. I moved very slowly
onward, and as I turned my head I saw that a row of straggling bushes
which grew close to the wall were now between her and me. But I also
saw, or thought I saw, between the leaves and boughs, that her face
was towards me, and that she was waving her handkerchief. If I had
been sure of that, I think I should have jumped over the wall, pushed
through the bushes, and should have asked her to give me that
handkerchief, that I might fasten it on the front of my cap as, in
olden days, a knight going forth to his adventures bound upon his
helmet the glove of his lady-love.