Roma had a large bill to foot, but she paid it with delight, seeing how happy she had made her people, and believing how much she had helped the “poor” peddler.
The man’s load was considerably lightened when he returned his half-emptied boxes to his cart, and, after thanking the lady for her custom, mounted his seat and drove off.
He had been peddling around the neighborhood for about ten days, and had been making cautious inquiries about Goblin Hall and its mistress, or rather skilfully leading gossips to talk, and had learned as much as her neighbors knew of her life, and he had reported the same to his employer. But this was the first occasion on which he had visited Goblin Hall and enjoyed the opportunity of a personal interview with Miss Fronde. He had seen her under the most favorable circumstances, when her whole personality was irradiated with the delight of delighting.
“That lady,” he said to himself, “is not pining after that child, or after anything else in this world. She is the very happiest lady, as well as the handsomest one, I ever saw in the whole course of my life. And so generous! Why, if I had been a real peddler, my fortune would have been made!”
And these very words the detective also wrote to his employer, tilling the heart of the latter with gall, despair and bitterness.
On the next day, Sunday, Roma went to church, where the young assistant conducted the services and the old pastor preached the sermon.
After the benediction and the dispersion of the congregation Roma took an affectionate leave of both her clerical friends.
“But as it will be nearly three months before you sail for Europe, you will surely come down here once again to see your friends before you go?” said Paul Stone.
“I think I shall,” said Roma gently.
“But will you not promise to do so?”