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The mere departure from Fillingford shrank to nothing in comparison with the attendant circumstances supplied by Mr Gainsborough. "They don't know what to think at Fairholme," Mrs Trumbler reported. "I dare say not, my dear," said Miss S. grimly. "They were dining there that very night, and not a word was said about it; and none of them saw Mr Tristram.
He seemed to mock the ignorance of the vanished wagonette. Mina made no sign. He laid his finger on his lips, and nodded slightly toward Cecily. The clouds covered the moon again, and there was no more on the Fillingford road than a black blotch on the deep gray of the night; even this vanished a moment after. And still Cecily gazed down into the Blent. Presently she turned round.
As you suggest, Cecily, we could be married to-day but for these absurd restrictions. There's a train at eight from Fillingford " "You're going both of you by that?" Mina cried. "I hope it suits you, because we want you to come with us, if you'll be so kind," said Harry. "You see it would look just a little unusual if we went alone," added Cecily. "And it's not going to look unusual anyhow?
Presently there came to them through the stillness of the night the sound of wheels, not on the Blentmouth side, but up the valley, on the Mingham and Fillingford road. The sound ceased without the appearance of any vehicle, but it had reminded Neeld of the progress of time. "It must be getting late," he said, rising. "I'll go and see if they think of starting home.
For him in his knowledge, for her in her ignorance, there was an added richness of pleasure that he would not throw away, even although now he believed that were the truth known she would come to him still. Must not that be, since now he, even he, would come to her, though the truth had been otherwise? "There's a train from Fillingford at eight in the morning. I'm going back there to-night.
With much decision she requested a lift, got in, and told him all about how Harry had escorted Cecily and Madame Zabriska from Fillingford that morning. The milkman had told the butcher, the butcher had told the postman, the postman had told her, and well, she had mentioned it to Mrs Trumbler. Mrs Trumbler was at Fairholme now. "Mr Tristram had been staying with you, of course?
She turned round; Cecily still gazed in melancholy abstraction into the stream. Cecily, then, faced down the valley, Mina looked up it; and at the moment the moon showed a quarter of her face and illuminated a streak of the Fillingford road. The man was there. He was there again. The moonlight fell on his face. He smiled at Mina, pointed a hand toward Blentmouth, and smiled again.
Fillingford is but twelve miles inland from Blentmouth, and there are three hours between eight and eleven. He was making for Fairholme. While yet half a mile off he overtook Miss Swinkerton, heading in the same direction, ostentatiously laden with savings-bank books.
"No not for our family at least." "It's just the obvious thing to do." "Oh, it's just the delicious thing too!" She almost danced in gayety. "Let me call Mina. Do!" "Not for a moment, as you love me! Give me a moment more." "Oh, Harry, there'll be no end to that!" "I don't know why there should be." "We should miss the train at Fillingford!" "Ah, if it means that!"
"You've given in then?" exclaimed the Imp, pointing a finger in triumph at Harry. "Mina, how can you say a thing like that?" "It looks as if it were true enough," admitted Harry. "Really I must go," he added. "I can't keep that fly all night. I shall see you in the morning, Madame Zabriska. Eight o'clock at Fillingford!" "I'm really to go with you?" she gasped.
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