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Updated: May 3, 2025
No one in his senses would dream of spending all the money that I make in Bradfield upon the tradesmen of Avonmouth." "Suppose they come down upon you?" "Well, we'll see about that when they do. Meanwhile I am paying ready money for every mortal thing that comes up the door steps.
"Strahan told me yesterday," he went on, "that they are teaching a lot of this Radical tomfoolery in Oxford now; he says his son has come home stuffed with it, thinks agricultural labourers are underpaid and all the rest. Is it true, Bradfield?"
The village houses, separated so widely by the one long street, each with its path neatly tunneled from the roadway to the gate; the meeting-house, so much vaster than the present needs of worship, and looking blue-cold with its never-renewed single coat of white paint; the graveyard set in the midst of the village, and showing, after Ezra Perkins's disappearance, as many signs of life as any other locality, realized in the most satisfactory degree his theories of what winter must be in such a place as South Bradfield.
Their strangeness to her gave certain well-worn topics novelty, and the familiar project of a pastoral career in the far West invested itself with a color of romance which it had not worn before. She tried to remember, at his urgence, something about her childhood in California; and she told him a great deal more about South Bradfield.
"I've heard that there are ladies who blush for nothing." "Is she Italian?" "Yes, in voice." "Oh, an American prima donna!" Staniford did not answer. "Who is she? Where is she from?" "South Bradfield, Mass." Staniford's eyes twinkled at her pursuit, which he did not trouble himself to turn aside, but baffled by mere impenetrability.
My business was to get to Bradfield as quick as my legs would take me, and as inconspicuously as the gods would permit. Unhappily I was far too great an object of interest to that nursery of heroes. Every boy scout is an amateur detective and hungry for knowledge.
Did you find it too exciting to sit at home looking at a novel? What was it? If it's a new story I should like to see it. But you didn't bring a novel from South Bradfield with you?" "No," said Lydia, with a husky reluctance. "One of the passengers gave it to me." "Had you many passengers? But of course not. That was what made it so delightful when I came over that way.
"All the time?" "Pretty nearly." "And he didn't try to find out who or what you were?" "He asked a great deal about South Bradfield." "Of course, that was where he thought you had always belonged." Mrs. Erwin lay quiescent for a while, in apparent uncertainty as to how she should next attack the subject. "How did you first meet?"
The dress that Lydia habitually wore was one which her aunt Maria studied from the costume of a summer boarder, who had spent a preceding summer at the sea-shore, and who found her yachting-dress perfectly adapted to tramping over the South Bradfield hills.
Erwin's demonstrations of affection, of which she had been lavish during her visit to South Bradfield, might not be so false. Lydia accepted them submissively, and she said, when Veronica returned for the tray, "I hate to give you so much trouble. And sending her all the way to Trieste on my account, I felt ashamed. There wasn' a thing for her to do." "Why, of course not!" exclaimed her aunt.
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