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She had not told him a word when the yearly cricket-match came on at Lord's between the public schools, though Sam had already gone back to Aldbrickham. Mrs. Twycott felt stronger than usual: she went to the match with Randolph, and was able to leave her chair and walk about occasionally.
The parson and a neighbouring curate had entered at one door, and Sophy at another, followed by two necessary persons, whereupon in a short time there emerged a newly-made husband and wife. Mr. Twycott knew perfectly well that he had committed social suicide by this step, despite Sophy's spotless character, and he had taken his measures accordingly.
Twycott had never rallied, and now lay in a well-packed cemetery to the south of the great city, where, if all the dead it contained had stood erect and alive, not one would have known him or recognized his name. The boy had dutifully followed him to the grave, and was now again at school. Throughout these changes Sophy had been treated like the child she was in nature though not in years.
He seems to belong so little to me personally, so entirely to his dead father. He is so much educated and I so little that I do not feel dignified enough to be his mother . . . Well, he would have to be told. 'Yes. Unquestionably. Sam saw her thought and her fear. 'Still, you can do as you like, Sophy Mrs. Twycott, he added. 'It is not you who are the child, but he. 'Ah, you don't know!
They spoke of their native village in dear old North Wessex, the spots in which they had played together as children. She tried to feel that she was a dignified personage now, that she must not be too confidential with Sam. But she could not keep it up, and the tears hanging in her eyes were indicated in her voice. 'You are not happy, Mrs. Twycott, I'm afraid? he said. 'O, of course not!
They talked as they had talked in old days, Sam pulling himself up now and then, when he thought himself too familiar. More than once she said with misgiving that she wondered if she ought to have indulged in the freak. 'But I am so lonely in my house, she added, 'and this makes me so happy! 'You must come again, dear Mrs. Twycott. There is no time o' day for taking the air like this.
'I can't come down easily, Sam, or I would! she said. 'Did you know I lived here? 'Well, Mrs. Twycott, I knew you lived along here somewhere. I have often looked out for 'ee. He briefly explained his own presence on the scene.
She was the only one of the servants with whom he came into immediate and continuous relation. What should he do if Sophy were gone? Sophy did not go, but one of the others did, and things went on quietly again. When Mr. Twycott, the vicar, was ill, Sophy brought up his meals to him, and she had no sooner left the room one day than he heard a noise on the stairs.
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