"Mille pardons, madame—adieu!" And then Mrs. Short, watching in dumb dismay from her window, saw the party return to Ralph's house.
"Did Mrs. Short ask you many questions?" asked Ralph.
"A great many; she never stopped, sir!"
"And did you answer? But of course you couldn't help it. What a plague," thought he, "the old woman will be, if she has got the whole story from the boy."
"Yes, I answered her," replied Ollie with a grave smile. "Only—I spoke in French; and she did not like it, sir."
Ralph actually laughed, for the first time for many years, so that the sound almost startled him.
They went to church together, and I cannot say that Ollie's behaviour there was edifying, though he was quiet enough; for he fell fast asleep, and lay with his head in Ruth's lap, looking like a beautiful picture. Mrs. Short would hardly have recognised her saucy tormentor in this lovely sleeping cherub. Ralph's heart grew softer with every glance; he could not fix his mind on the sermon at all; but I think the two children were the text to an unspoken sermon, preached to Ralph alone.
Ruth and Ollie went home after church, thanking him so heartily for their pleasant day, "and all the trouble you are going to take for us," Ruth added, that poor crusty old Ralph felt wonderfully happy.
Next day, after a good deal of thought, he wrote his letter to Mr. Mordan, and then left home, but not, as usual, to wander aimlessly about the country. He went up the hill, and betook himself to the curate's house. Somewhat to his surprise, he got away without being pounced upon by Mrs. Short; but in truth, that good lady felt a little shy of him, not knowing what he might say about Ollie's enforced visit the day before.
Both Mr. and Mrs. Cloudesley were at home, and Ralph was at once taken to their pretty little sitting-room. May sprang up gladly,—