It was very hard upon Clara. After a while the coffee came, and even that was felt to be a comfort. Though there was no pouring out to be done, no actual employment enacted, still the manœuvring of the cups created a diversion. "If either of you like to smoke," she said, "I shan't mind it in the least." But neither of them would smoke. "At what hour shall we get to Aylmer Park to-morrow?" Clara asked.
"At half-past four," said the Captain.
"Oh, indeed;—so early as that." What was she to say next? Will, who had not touched his coffee, and who was sitting stiffly at the table as though he were bound in duty not to move, was becoming more and more grim every moment. She almost repented that she had asked him to remain with them. Certainly there was no comfort in his company, either to them or to himself. "How long shall you remain in town, Will, before you go down to Plaistow?" she asked.
"One day," he replied.
"Give my kind love,—my very kindest love to Mary. I wish I knew her. I wish I could think that I might soon know her."
"You'll never know her," said Belton. The tone of his voice was actually savage as he spoke;—so much so that Aylmer turned in his chair to look at him, and Clara did not dare to answer him. But now that he had been made to speak, it seemed that he was determined to persevere. "How should you ever know her? Nothing will ever bring you into Norfolk, and nothing will ever take her out of it."
"I don't quite see why either of those assertions should be made."
"Nevertheless they're both true. Had you ever meant to come to Norfolk you would have come now." He had not even asked her to come, having arranged with his sister that in their existing circumstances any such asking would not be a kindness; and yet he rebuked her now for not coming!
"My mother is very anxious that Miss Amedroz should pay her a visit at Aylmer Park," said the Captain.
"And she's going to Aylmer Park, so your mother's anxiety need not disturb her any longer."