“I suppose that we can’t have tea till he’s been,” said Mrs. Ray, just at that hour; “that is, if he does come at all.”
Rachel felt that her mother was vexed, because she suspected that Mr. Rowan was not about to keep his word.
“Don’t let his coming make any difference, mamma,” said Rachel. “I will go and get tea.”
“Wait a few minutes longer, my dear,” said Mrs. Ray.
It was all very well for Rachel to beg that it might make “no difference.” It did make a very great deal of difference.
“I think I’ll go over and see Mrs. Sturt for a few minutes,” said Rachel, getting up.
“Pray don’t, my dear—pray don’t; I should never know what to say to him if he should come while you were away.”
So Rachel again sat down.
She had just, for the second time, declared her intention of getting tea, having now resolved that no weakness on her mother’s part should hinder her, when Mrs. Ray, from her seat near the window, saw the young man coming over the green. He was walking very slowly, swinging a big stick as he came, and had taken himself altogether away from the road, almost to the verge of Mrs. Sturt’s farmyard. “There he is,” said Mrs. Ray, with a little start. Rachel, who was struggling hard to retain her composure, could not resist her impulse to jump up and look out upon the green from behind her mother’s shoulder. But she did this from some little distance inside the room, so that no one might possibly see her from the green. “Yes; there he is, certainly,” and, having thus identified their visitor, she immediately sat down again. “He’s talking to Farmer Sturt’s ploughboy,” said Mrs. Ray. “He’s asking where we live,” said Rachel. “He’s never been here before.”
Rowan, having completed his conversation with the ploughboy, which by the way seemed to Mrs. Ray to have been longer than was necessary for its alleged purpose, came boldly across the green, and without pausing for a moment made his way through the cottage gate. Mrs. Ray caught her breath, and could not keep herself quite steady in her chair. Rachel, feeling that something must be done, got up from her seat and went quickly out into the passage. She knew that the front door was open, and she was prepared to meet Rowan in the hall.
“I told you I should call,” said he. “I hope you’ll let me come in.”
“Mamma will be very glad to see you,” she said. Then she brought him up and introduced him. Mrs. Ray rose from her chair and curtseyed, muttering something as to its being a long way for him to walk out there to the cottage.
“I said I should come, Mrs. Ray, if Miss Ray did not make her appearance at the brewery in the morning. We had such a nice party, and of course one wants to talk it over.”
“I hope Mrs. Tappitt is quite well after it—and the girls,” said Rachel.
“Oh, yes. You know we kept it up two hours after you were gone. I can’t say Mr. Tappitt is quite right this morning.”
“Is he ill?” asked Mrs. Ray.
“Well, no; not ill, I think, but I fancy that the party put him out a little. Middle-aged gentlemen don’t like to have all their things poked away anywhere. Ladies don’t mind it, I fancy.”
“Ladies know where to find them, as it is they who do the poking away,” said Rachel. “But I’m sorry about Mr. Tappitt.”
“I’m sorry, too, for he’s a good-natured sort of a man when he’s not put out. I say, Mrs. Ray, what a very pretty place you have got here.”
“We think so because we’re proud of our flowers.”
“I do almost all the gardening myself,” said Rachel.
“There’s nothing I like so much as a garden, only I never can remember the names of the flowers. They’ve got such grand names down here. When I was a boy, in Warwickshire, they used to have nothing but roses and sweetwilliams. One could remember them.”
“We haven’t got anything very grand here,” said Rachel. Soon after that they were sauntering out among the little paths and Rachel was picking flowers for him. She felt no difficulty in doing it, as her mother stood by her, though she would not for worlds have given him even a rose if they’d been alone.
“I wonder whether Mr. Rowan would come in and have some tea,” said Mrs. Ray.
“Oh, wouldn’t I,” said Rowan, “if I were asked?”
Rachel was highly delighted with her mother, not so much on account of her courtesy to their guest, as that she had shown herself equal to the occasion, and had behaved, in an unabashed manner, as a mistress of a house should do. Mrs. Ray had been in such dread of the young man’s coming, that Rachel had feared she would be speechless. Now the ice was broken, and she would do very well. The merit, however, did not belong to Mrs. Ray, but to Rowan. He had the gift of making himself at home with people, and had done much towards winning the widow’s heart, when, after an interval of ten minutes, they two followed Rachel into the house. Rachel then had her hat on, and was about to go over the green to the farmer’s house. “Mamma, I’ll just run over to Mrs. Sturt’s for some cream,” said she.
“Mayn’t I go with you?” said Rowan.
“Certainly not,” said Rachel. “You’d frighten Mrs. Sturt out of all her composure, and we should never get the cream.” Then Rachel went off, and Rowan was again left with her mother.
He had seated himself at her request in an armchair, and there for a minute or two he sat silent. Mrs. Ray was busy
