Nor did he; if the degree of haste were to be measured by the degree of desire on his part. It was astonishing how that desire grew, when once the notion of marrying Mildred Pattison was fully admitted to his own mind.
The first time that they had met, Mildred had made a strong impression on him; the second time that he had visited Old Maxham, though he did not exchange a word with her, that impression had been deepened by various facts casually told him about Mildred. And the next interview that he had with her convinced him that, if time and opportunity could be found, she might become to him what no other woman had yet been. The time he resolved to take; the opportunities he determined to make.
Mildred sometimes wondered over the length of his stay in Old Maxham. Weeks passed by, and, still he remained at the doctor's, as a "paying guest," but certainly not as a patient, for he made no pretence to be an invalid, or in need of sea-air. None the less, he stayed on.
She began also to wonder how it was that she so often met him, and why it was that he should seem always so pleased to see her. He managed to ingratiate himself with Miss Perkins, so that Miss Perkins actually asked him to come in now and then to tea. Mildred always had her meals with Miss Perkins and Jessie, therefore by this means, he saw her often.
Mildred felt some astonishment at so unusual a step on the part of Miss Perkins, not knowing aught as to certain invisible wires set in motion by the doctor's wife; and she felt yet greater astonishment at the readiness and frequency with which Mr. Willoughby availed himself of the invitation.
Soon a third wonder arose in the mind of Mildred. She was puzzled as to the warmth of her own liking for Mr. Willoughby,—puzzled that his presence should be so agreeable to her, puzzled to find out that if for two or three days she saw nothing of him she felt dull.
"It really is ridiculous," she said one day to herself. "I have known him such a little while, and very soon he will be going back to London, and then none of us will see anything more of him. At least, not for months. Perhaps some day he may come again to Old Maxham. I hope he will; he is a nice men. One can't know him and not like him. But it is rather absurd to care too much, when he is a mere bird of passage,—isn't it, Hero?" Mildred patted her dog and smiled as she spoke.
Not long after this she was one day going off for another afternoon ramble alone with Hero, when Mr. Willoughby happened to come up just before she started. He was always "happening" to meet her wherever she might chance to go; and it never occurred to Mildred that the "happening" might sometimes be due to a private hint bestowed upon Mr. Willoughby by Miss Perkins or Jessie.
Time had been when Miss Perkins would have set herself in opposition to anything so far from advantageous to herself as the possible marriage of Mildred Pattison. But Miss Perkins had had some lessons in self-forgetfulness during the last year; and now that the danger of having to part with her permanent lodger loomed upon her, she was able, amid regrets, to think of what would be for Mildred's good, and to endeavour to further that good, even though it should mean loss to herself. Jessie, too, though not without a struggle, took the same view of matters.
A late equinoctial gale seemed to be setting, but Mildred did not mind a struggle with the wind, now that she was again in good health and spirits. She had put on an old dress, and had tied a gauze veil tightly over her hat, so that it was in no danger of being carried away. And at the moment when she was starting, Mr. Willoughby made his appearance.