“You must be very tired,” said Rachel, who, with many self-reproaches and much communing within her own bosom, had for the time vanquished her own hard humour.
“Yes, I am tired, my dear; very. I thought the train never would have got to the Baslehurst station. It stopped at all the little stations, and really I think I could have walked as fast.” A dozen years had not as yet gone by since the velocity of these trains had been so terrible to Mrs. Ray that she had hardly dared to get into one of them!
“And whom have you seen?” said Rachel.
“Seen!” said Mrs. Ray. “Who told you that I had seen anybody?”
“I suppose you saw Mr. Goodall.”
“Oh yes, I saw him of course. I saw him, and the cottages are all sold. We shall have seven pounds ten a year more than before. I’m sure it will be a very great comfort. Seven pounds ten will buy so many things.”
“But ten pounds would buy more.”
“Of course it would, my dear. And I told Mr. Goodall I wished he could make it ten, as it would make it sound so much more regular like; but he said he couldn’t do it because the gas has gone up so much. He could have done it if I had sixty pounds, but of course I hadn’t.”
“But, mamma, whom did you see except Mr. Goodall? I know you saw somebody, and you must tell me.”
“That’s nonsense, Rachel. You can’t know that I saw anybody.” It may, however, be well to explain at once the cause of Mrs. Ray’s hesitation, and that this may be done in the proper course, we will go back to her journey to Exeter. All the incidents of her day may be told very shortly; but there was one incident in her day which filled her with so much anxiety, and almost dismay, that it must be narrated.
On arriving at Exeter she got into an omnibus which would have taken her direct to Mr. Goodall’s office in the Close; but she was minded to call at a shop in the High Street, and had herself put down at the corner of one of those passages which lead from the High Street to the Close. She got down from the step of the vehicle, very carefully, as is the wont with middle-aged ladies from the country, and turned round to walk directly into the shop; but before her, on the pavement, she saw Luke Rowan. He was standing close to her, so that it was impossible that they should have pretended to miss seeing each other, even had they been so minded. Any such pretence would have been impossible to Mrs. Ray, and would have been altogether contrary to Luke Rowan’s nature. He had been coming out of the shop, and had been arrested at once by Mrs. Ray’s figure as he saw it emerging from the door of the omnibus.
“How d’you do?” said he, coming forward with outstretched hand, and speaking as though there was nothing between him and Mrs. Ray which required any peculiar word or tone.
“Oh, Mr. Rowan! is this you?” said she. “Dear, dear! I’m sure I didn’t expect to see you in Exeter.”
“I dare say not, Mrs. Ray; and I didn’t expect to see you. But the odd thing is I’ve come here about the same business as you, though I didn’t know anything about it till yesterday.”
“What business, Mr. Rowan?”
“I’ve bought your cottages in Baslehurst.”
“No!”
“But I have, and I’ve paid for them too, and you’re going this very minute to Mr. Goodall to sign the deed of sale. Isn’t that true? So you see I know all about it.”
“Well, that is strange! Isn’t it, now?”
“The fact is I must have a bit of land at Baslehurst for building. Tappitt will go on fighting; and as I don’t mean to be beaten, I’ll have a place of my own there.”
“And you’ll pull down the cottages?”
“If I don’t pull him down first, so as to get the old brewery. I was obliged to buy your bit of ground now, as I might not have been able to get any just when I wanted it. You’ve sold it a deal too cheap. You tell Mr. Goodall I say so.”
“But he says I’m to gain something by selling it.”
“Does he? If it is so, I’m very glad of it. I only came down from London yesterday to finish this piece of business, and I’m going back today.”
During all this time not a word had been said about Rachel. He had not even asked after her in the ordinary way in which men ask after their ordinary acquaintance. He had not looked as though he were in the least embarrassed in speaking to Rachel’s mother, and now it seemed as though he were going away, as though all had been said between them that he cared to say. Mrs. Ray at the first moment had dreaded any special word; but now, as he was about to leave her, she felt disappointed that no special word had been spoken. But he was not as yet gone.
“I literally haven’t a minute to spare,” he said, offering her his hand for a second time; “for
