"Yes,—all the way," said the red-nosed man, sulkily.
"I don't think you'd better go to London to-night, Mr. Stringer," said a tall man, stepping out of the door of the booking-office. "I think you'd better come back with me to Barchester. I do indeed." There was some little argument on the occasion; but the stranger, who was a detective policeman, carried his point, and Mr. Dan Stringer did return to Barchester.
CHAPTER LXXIII.
THERE IS COMFORT AT PLUMSTEAD.
enry Grantly had written the following short letter to Mrs. Grantly when he made up his mind to pull down the auctioneer's bills.
Dear Mother,—
I have postponed the sale, not liking to refuse you anything. As far as I can see, I shall still be forced to leave Cosby Lodge, as I certainly shall do all I can to make Grace Crawley my wife. I say this that there may be no misunderstanding with my father. The auctioneer has promised to have the bills removed.
Your affectionate son,
Henry Grantly.
This had been written by the major on the Friday before Mr. Walker had brought up to him the tidings of Mr. Toogood and Mrs. Arabin's solution of the Crawley difficulty; but it did not reach Plumstead till the following morning. Mrs. Grantly immediately took the good news about the sale to her husband,—not of course showing him the letter, being far too wise for that, and giving him credit for being too wise to ask for it. "Henry has arranged with the auctioneer," she said joyfully; "and the bills have been all pulled down."
"How do you know?"