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Yet the note was not a compromising one. It merely said "DEAR MR. TRELYON: If you have a moment to spare, my mother would be most obliged to you if you would call on her. I hope you will forgive the trouble. "Yours sincerely, WENNA ROSEWARNE." When the young man got that note he was just entering the hotel when the servant arrived he stared with surprise. He told the girl he would call on Mrs.
A good old Cornish name as good as yours, Roscorla. So they're called Rosewarne? Gad! if her ladyship wants to appoint a successor, I'm willing to let her choice fall on one of those two girls." Her ladyship, a dark and silent old woman of eighty, did not like, in the first place, to be called her ladyship, and did not relish, either, having her death talked of as a joke.
"Ay, ay, Maister Rosewarne! 'tis a good half hour agone." "A half hour, you idiot!" said Rosewarne, now in a thoroughly bad temper. "You've been asleep and dreaming. Here, take your confounded money!" So he rode on again, not believing, of course, old Job's malicious fabrication, but being rendered all the same a little uncomfortable by it. Fortunately, the cob had not been out before that day.
White Charley, with his long swinging trot, soon brought George Rosewarne up to the side of the phaeton, and the girls, long ere he had arrived, had recognized in the gloom the tall figure of their father. Even Mabyn was a trifle nervous.
And now you will see whether what I have said about Miss Rosewarne is all gammon or not." "My poor boy, I wouldn't say a word against her for the world. Do I want my head wrenched off? But if any one says anything to me about what I may do to-day, I shall have to tell the truth; and do you know what that is, Harry?
Then he pulled sharply up in front of the inn, and George Rosewarne appeared. "Mr. Rosewarne, let me introduce you to my mother. She wants to see Miss Wenna for a few moments, if she is not engaged." Mr. Rosewarne took off his cap, assisted Mrs. Trelyon to alight, and then showed her the way into the house. "Won't you come in, Harry?" his mother said. "No."
It was not a pleasant journey for any of them least of all for Wenna Rosewarne, who, having been bewildered by one wild glimpse of liberty, felt with terror and infinite sadness and despair the old manacles closing round her life again. And what although the neighbors might remain in ignorance of what she had done? She herself knew, and that was enough. "You think no one will know?"
Rosewarne, but his eyes rarely wandered away for long from Wenna's pleased and radiant face; and again and again he said to himself, "And if a simple drive on a spring morning can give this child so great a delight, it is not the last that she and I shall have together." "Mrs. Rosewarne," said he, "I think your daughter has as much need of a holiday as anybody.
Harry Trelyon came into the room with quite a marked freshness and good-nature on his face. His mother was surprised: what had completely changed his manner in a couple of minutes? "How are you, Mrs. Rosewarne?" he cried in his off-hand fashion.
They were silent as they drove away. There was one happy face amongst them, that of Mrs. Rosewarne, but she was thinking of her own affairs in a sort of pleased reverie. Wenna was timid and a trifle sad: she said little beyond "Yes, Mr. Trelyon," and "No, Mr. Trelyon," and even that was said in low voice.
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