He took the offered sheet, and read it, noting the ill-spelt words, the badly expressed sentences.
"No. I am sorry, but I do not see that you can well get out of it. You had better have the pony-carriage directly after luncheon. I wish I were free to go with you." He stood up, and added: "Be wise, child. Don't get drawn into a talk about—the son."
[CHAPTER XXXVI]
A Surprise Meeting
THE Rectory pony was famed for choosing his own pace, and that not a rapid one. Through the long drive Doris—having for once given over the reins to the boy—found ample leisure for thought.
Again and again she recurred to her father's question—"Are you sure of yourself?" "No, I'm not!" she answered each time. Again and again she heard his emphatic—"Whatever you do, don't drift!"—and repeatedly, with growing earnestness, she murmured—"No, I won't."
She had started early after luncheon; and on their way through Deene, she stopped outside Mrs. Stirling's garden, sending the boy to the front door with her note; a brief little note, giving no reason, but stating only that she was sorry she could not accept. That was her first step towards "not drifting." She hoped Hamilton would understand.
At the beginning of the grass-path near Wyldd's Farm, she quitted the pony-carriage, bidding the boy wait for her, and proceeded on foot through the meadow. Mrs. Morris, stout and impassive as usual, opened the door. "I saw you coming," she said shortly.
Doris was conscious of a faint thrill, as her hand met that of Dick's mother, even while noting with distaste the woman's heavy ungracious look.
"I'm glad you sent for me, if Winnie wished it."