"Oh, I hardly know," said John in considerable embarrassment. "I was only thinking—about you—that is, about it all."
The answer did not tend to quiet Mrs. Goddard's apprehensions.
"About me?" she exclaimed. "Why should you think about me?"
"It was very foolish, of course," said John. "Only, when I caught sight of you that day I was very much struck. You know, I was only a boy, then. I hoped you would come back—but you did not." He blushed violently, and then glanced at his companion to see whether she had noticed it.
"No," she said, "I did not come back for some time."
"And then I was gone. Mr. Ambrose never told me you had come."
"Why should he?"
"Oh, I don't know. I think he might. You see Billingsfield has been a sort of home to me, and it is a small place; so I thought he might have told me the news."
"I suppose he thought it would not interest you," said Mrs. Goddard. "I am sure I do not know why it should. But you must be very fond of the place, are you not?"
"Very. As I was saying, it is very like home to me. My father lives in town you know—that is not at all like home. One always associates the idea of home with the country, and a vicarage and a Hall, and all that."