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When he reached the common, which lay between the houses of the rival claimants, he stood still for a minute or two, grasping the cock and looking judiciously from one side of the broken land to the other. The crowd eagerly commenced to give information. "You're a bit nearer Bob O' Tims's than you are to Jimmy's!" cried one. "Nay!
Tims's countenance relaxed and she replied with a slight air of importance: "My opinion of men has been screwed up a peg lately. Every now and then you do find one who's got too much sense for any rot of that kind." Mildred continued. "Ian's perfectly wretched at what happened; can't understand it, of course. He doesn't say much, but I can see he dreads explanations with Milly.
The king himself has got nothing like it down at Windsor Castle." Now, Jimmy Taylor had always been a rival of Bob O' Tims's. Jimmy's grandfather had fought at the Battle of Waterloo. This gave him great prestige, and it was almost universally believed, in Chellowdene, that the preëminence of the British Empire was mainly due to the battle-zeal of Jimmy's ancestry.
Tims's sallow, comic little face had neither eyebrows nor eyelashes on it, and her small figure was not of a quality to triumph over the obvious disadvantages of a tight black cloth dress with bright buttons, reminiscent of a page's suit. Milly pushed the candles farther away and looked up. "I was wanting to see you, Tims. Do tell me whether you managed to get out of Miss Walker what Mr.
Tims still crouched upon the bed, chanting her monotonous song and contemplating her work. At length she slipped off, conscious of pins-and-needles in her legs, and as she withdrew, Milly with a sudden motion stretched her body out in the white bed, as straight and still almost as that of the dead. The movement was mechanical, but it gave a momentary check to Tims's triumph.
I'm afraid it's not been good for a highly strung creature like Mildred to see so much of her; and why on earth did she?" He tried to clear his mind of Tims's fantastic suggestions; of everything, indeed, except the freshness of the air rushing past him, the beauty of the wide view, steeped in the romance of distance.
Fitzalan, in the course of a conscientious survey of all the pictures on the walls, had reached this point in their progress. The window-seat on which Goring and Mildred were sitting was visible through a doorway, and Tims had on her strongest glasses. Since her engagement, Tims's old-maidish bringing up seemed to be bearing fruit for the first time.
However, I shall meet him on Thursday at the Tims's, if he should but keep his promise, and then " "But, uncle," said Mrs. Bagshaw, "hadn't you better send him an invitation at once?" "I'll do better still, my dear; I'll call at his lodgings, and if I find him hanging loose, I'll bring him to dine with you to-day."
Mildred kissed Tims's heated, care-distorted face, and turned away to where Goring stood at the book-stall buying superfluous literature. Tims saw him lift his hat gravely to Mildred. It relieved her vaguely to notice that there seemed no warmth or familiarity about their greeting.
There is something odd about Milly, but I think it's affectation. Did you hear her answer? Two miles! When to my knowledge she can easily walk ten." Meantime, Mildred mounted slowly to her room. She had tidied it under Tims's instructions and had nothing to do but to sit down and think until Lady Thomson's masculine step was heard outside her door.
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