"Always considerate, Mr. Sidney is," said Mattie, in conclusion; "most sons would have spoken out the truth at once, and gone away, leaving their fathers wholly miserable; he went at the subject like a daughter almost—didn't he, sir?"
Mr. Hinchford had felt inclined to believe himself treated childishly, till Mattie put the question in this new light.
"Ah! he did——" he burst forth with; "he's a dear lad! What a lucky girl that Harriet Wesden is!"
Time passed on, and no Sidney's return. The nights drew in closer yet, and with their lengthier darkness deepened the shadows round the lives of all our characters. Sidney had stated his intention to write no letters, but they were expected nevertheless, and Harriet began to fancy that it was a little strange—as strange as her interest in Sidney and his movements, now that she had given him up for ever! A letter for herself, from Miss Eveleigh, diverted her attention somewhat—it had been sent to Camberwell and posted on by her father.
"Miss Eveleigh is very anxious to see me for a few minutes," said Harriet. "She and her mother think of getting up some private theatricals at New-Cross, and they want my assistance and advice."
"Private theatricals!—that's playing at being actors and actresses, isn't it, Miss Harriet?"
"Oh! yes. Such capital fun!"
"For the people who come to see you as well?" asked Mattie, guessing by intuition where the shoe must pinch.
"To be sure," responded Harriet; "they wouldn't come if they did not like, my dear; and the change will do me good, and I think I'll go."
Mattie detected a heightened colour in Harriet's cheek.