“I suppose it must be answered,” said Mrs. Ray.
“Oh, yes; of course it should be answered.”
“And who should write it, Mr. Comfort?”
“Let Rachel write it herself. Let her tell him that she is not prepared to correspond with him as yet, any further that is, you understand, than the writing of that letter.”
“And about—about—about what he says as to loving her, you know? There has been a sort of promise between them, Mr. Comfort, and no young man could have spoken more honestly than he did.”
“And he meant honestly, no doubt; but you see, Mrs. Ray, it is necessary to be so careful in these matters! It is quite evident his mother doesn’t wish this marriage.”
“And he shouldn’t have called her a goose; should he?”
“I don’t think much about that.”
“Don’t you, now?”
“It was all meant in good-humour. But she thinks it a bad marriage for him as regards money, and money considerations always go so far, you know. And then he’s away, and you’ve got no hold upon him.”
“That’s quite true, Mr. Comfort.”
“He has quarrelled with the people here. And upon my word I’m inclined to think he has not behaved very well to Mr. Tappitt.”
“Hasn’t he, now?”
“I’m afraid not, Mrs. Ray. They were talking about him last night in Baslehurst, and I’m afraid he has behaved badly at the brewery. There were words between him and Mr. Tappitt—very serious words.”
“Yes; I know that. He told Rachel as much as that. I think he said he was going to law with Mr. Tappitt.”
“And if so, the chances are that he may never be seen here again. It’s ill coming to a place where one is quarrelling with people. And as to the lawsuit, it seems to me, from what I hear, that he would certainly lose it. No doubt he has a considerable property in the brewery; but he wants to be master of everything, and that can’t be reasonable, you know. And then, Mrs. Ray, there’s worse than that behind.”
“Worse than that!” said Mrs. Ray, in whose heart every gleam of comfort was quickly being extinguished by darkening shadows.
“They tell me that he has gone away without paying his debts. If that is so, it shows that his means cannot be very good.” Then why had Mr. Comfort taken upon himself expressly to say that they were good at that interview before Mrs. Tappitt’s party? That was the thought in the widow’s mind at the present moment. Mr. Comfort, however, went on with his caution. “And then, when the happiness of such a girl as Rachel is concerned, it is impossible to be too careful. Where should we all be if we found that we had given her to a scamp?”
“Oh dear, oh dear! I don’t think he can be a scamp;—he did take his tea so nicely.”
“I don’t say he is;—I don’t judge him. But then we should be careful. Why didn’t he pay his debts before he went away? A young man should always pay his debts.”
“Perhaps he’s sent it down in a money-order,” said Mrs. Ray. “They are so very convenient—that is if you’ve got the money.”
“If he hasn’t I hope he will, for I can assure you I don’t want to think badly of him. Maybe he will turn out all right. And you may be sure of this, Mrs. Ray, that if he is really attached to Rachel he won’t give her up, because she doesn’t throw herself into his arms at his first word. There’s nothing becomes a young woman like a little caution, or makes a young man think more of her. If Rachel fancies that she likes him let her hold back a while and find out what sort of stuff he’s made of. If I were her I should just tell him that I thought it better to wait a little before I made any positive engagement.”
“But, Mr. Comfort, how is she to begin it? You see he calls her Dearest Rachel.”
“Let her say Dear Mr. Rowan. There can’t be any harm in that.”
“She mustn’t call him Luke, I suppose.”
“I think she’d better not. Young men think so much of those things.”
“And she’s not to say ‘Yours affectionately’ at the end?”
“She’ll understand all that when she comes to write the letter better than we can tell her. Give her my love; and tell her from me I’m quite sure she’s a dear, good girl, and that it must be a great comfort to you to know that you can trust her so thoroughly.” Then, having spoken these last words, Mr. Comfort took himself away.
Rachel, sitting in the window of Mrs. Sturt’s large front kitchen on the other side of the green, could see Mr. Comfort come forth from the cottage and get into his low four-wheeled carriage, which, with his boy in livery, had been standing at the garden gate during the interview. Mrs. Sturt was away among the milk-pans, scalding cream or preparing butter, and did not watch either Rachel or the visitor at the cottage. But she knew with tolerable accuracy what was going on, and with all her heart wished that her young friend might have luck with her lover. Rachel waited for a minute or two till the little carriage was out of sight, till the sound of the wheels could be no longer heard, and then she prepared to move. She slowly got herself up from her chair as though she were afraid to show herself upon the green, and paused still a few moments longer before she left the kitchen.
“So, thou’s off,” said Mrs. Sturt, coming in from the back regions of her territory, with the sleeves of her gown tucked up, enveloped in a large roundabout apron which covered almost all her dress. Mrs. Sturt would no more have thought of doing her work in the front kitchen than I should think
