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Updated: June 15, 2025
He crept light-headedly down the brick walk with a feeling that the darkness was not half thick enough, though it was so thick that it hid from him a figure that leaned upon the gate and held it shut, as if forcibly to interrupt his going. "Mr. Langbourne," said the voice of this figure, which, though so unnaturally strained, he knew for Barbara's voice, "you have got to know!
But she gave him no sign of dismissal till she put her hand upon her gate to pull it open without asking him to come in. Then he said, "I will send Miss Simpson's letters to her at once." "Oh, any time will do, Mr. Langbourne," she returned sweetly. Then, as if it had just occurred to her, she added, "We're going after May-flowers this afternoon. Wouldn't you like to come too?"
"I know Barbara will be very sorry not to see you; but I guess it's better." In spite of the supremacy which the turn of affairs had given her, Juliet Bingham looked far from satisfied, and she let Langbourne go with a sense of inconclusiveness which showed in the parting inclination towards him; she kept the effect of this after he turned from her.
The clerk said there was a train from the south due at eleven-forty, but it seldom brought any mail; the principal mail was at seven. Langbourne thanked him, and came back again to beg the clerk to be careful and not have him called in the morning, for he wished to sleep. Then he went up to his room, where he opened his window to let in the night air.
He would stay here at Little Langbourne. "Buddesby, sir?" said the waiter. "Yes, sir. Mister John Everard's place about a quarter of a mile beyond the village. Very interesting old 'ouse, sir, one of the best farms hereabouts. Mr. Everard's a well-to-do gentleman, sir, old family, not " "Oh, go away!" The waiter withdrew. "Anyhow," he thought, "he got it all right last night, and serve him right.
Then, after disappointing him so long that he ceased to expect anything, she enclosed a picture. The face was so far averted that Langbourne could get nothing but the curve of a longish cheek, the point of a nose, the segment of a crescent eyebrow.
That being so, I wish to consult your wishes in every way, and so I am writing to suggest that you meet me to-morrow, that is Saturday night, on the Little Langbourne Road.
Langbourne answered that it would have taken a good deal of talking to wake him the night before, and then he lounged across to the time-table hanging on the wall, and began to look up the trains for Upper Ashton Falls. "If you want to go to the Falls," said the clerk, "there's a through train at four, with a drawing-room on it, that will get you there by five."
Odd you should ask about it." Langbourne owned that it was odd, and then he asked if the ladies lived at Upper Ashton Falls, or were merely summer folks. "Well, a little of both," said the clerk. "They're cousins, and they've got an aunt living there that they stay with. They used to go away winters, teaching, I guess, but this last year they stayed right through.
The darkness would come soon enough, but to-day was hers and his. How far in his boldness John Everard drove that little car he did not quite realise, but it was a slight shock to him to read on a sign-post "Holsworth four miles," for Holsworth was more than forty miles from Little Langbourne. "Gipsy, we must go back," he said.
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