His face expressed nothing as he glanced over the few lines the note contained, folded it again and put it into his pocket.
“Mrs. Bond wants me to go and see her,” he said, in explanation. “I wonder why!”
“It is very natural,” Totty answered. “She wants to thank you for what you did.”
“Very unnecessary, considering the unfortunate result,” observed George thoughtfully.
“Will you go to-day?” Mamie asked in the hope that he would suggest taking her with him.
“Of course,” he answered shortly. As soon as breakfast was over he went to his work, without spending what he called his quarter of an hour’s grace in the garden with his cousin.
George Wood was a nervous and sensitive man in spite of his strong organisation, and he felt a strong repugnance to revisiting the scene of the fatal accident. He had indeed been on the river several times since Bond had been drowned, and had taken Mamie with him, telling her that one ought to get over the first impression at once, lest one should lose the power of getting over them at all. But to row into the very water in which John had died and he himself had nearly lost his life, was as yet more than he cared to do when there was no definite object to be gained. Though the little wooded point of land was nearer to the house than the landing, he went to the latter without hesitation.
He was shocked at Grace’s appearance when he met her in the great old drawing-room. Her face was very grave, almost solemn in its immobility, and her eyes looked unnaturally large.
“I fear I have given you a great deal of trouble, Mr. Wood,” she said as she laid her thin cold fingers in his hand. He remembered that her grasp had formerly been warm and full of life.
“Nothing that you could ask of me would give me trouble,” George answered earnestly. He had an idea that she wanted him to do her some service, in some way connected with the accident, but he could not imagine what it might be.