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Updated: August 16, 2024
He tried to occupy himself in his garden, but it was weary work sowing crops for strange hands to reap, and so he gave it up. Somehow the time wore on until at last it was Christmas Eve; the eve, too, of the fatal day of Ida's decision. He dined alone that night as usual, and shortly after dinner some waits came to the house and began to sing their cheerful carols outside.
To drive her own carriage, were it ever so small, was more agreeable to Urania's temper than to sit behind the over-fed horses from The Knoll, and to be thus, in some small measure, indebted to Bessie Wendover. Ida Palliser's presence made the thing still more odious. Bessie was radiant with delight at taking her friend home with her. She watched Ida's eyes as they roamed over the landscape.
A hen, which descended cackling from a loft, roused him from this inward meditation. He came to a resolution, and followed Ida's mother into the inner room, whither they were accompanied by the wheezy pug, a personage otherwise mute, who jumped upon a stool. Madame Gruget showed the assumption of semi-pauperism when she invited her visitor to warm himself.
The little Ida must have everything she wanted. Timothy brought home nearly every day some little delicacy for her, which none of the rest thought of sharing. While Mrs. Harding, far enough from vanity, always dressed with extreme plainness, Ida's attire was always of good material and made up tastefully.
"About twenty or thirty pounds, perhaps." Ida's face fell. "Oh, that is not nearly enough," she murmured. "Eh?" he asked. "But I've got my cheque-book with me. How much do you want? And, forgive me, my dear Miss Ida, but may I ask what you want it for?" "Can I have a cheque for five hundred pounds?" Ida asked, timidly.
She waited about the pavement for Ida's return from work, and shortly saw her approaching. "This is kind of you," Ida said. "We'll have some tea, and then, if you're not too tired, we might go into the park. It will be cool then." She dreaded the thought of sitting alone with Harriet. But the latter said she must get home early, and would only have time to sit for half an hour.
He said he had observed of late quite a vein of poetry running through Miss Wilbur's speeches, which lifted them out of the common rut." Bradley lost sight of the humor in this speech at the sound of Ida's name, and his face flushed. He had not heard her name spoken by a third person in months, and had never dared to say it out loud himself.
"You seem to have made rather a favorable impression upon Julia Weston, and, as a rule, she's unapproachable," she said, with a mischievous smile. Ida's eyebrows straightened, which, to those acquainted with her, was a rather ominous sign. "Won't you keep that woman away from me?" she begged. "I don't want to be rude, but if I see very much more of her, I may not be able to help it.
Before the end of the week everything was landed. The donkey engine on the Ida's fore-deck clanked and snorted. Down in the hold the sweating sailors toiled. Packing-cases, great and small, huge bales and brass-studded trunks were hoisted high, swung clear of the ship's bulwarks and lowered, with much rattling of chains and gear, into the waiting boats.
They had a quarter of an hour to wait at the busy little station. Brian and Ida walked up and down the platform talking, while Reginald looked after the pony and the luggage. They found so much to say to each other, that the train seemed to come too soon. They bade each other good-bye with a tender look on Brian's part, a blush on Ida's.
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