“Go and ask cook, if she is not asleep, to lend me her big round water-proof cloak, Jane,” said I, “and bring me one of Miss Haidee’s Shetland veils.”
She ran away, astonished, to fetch them; and then, seeing that I was in earnest, she helped quickly and well to make me as like a middle-aged countrywoman as possible by buttoning my cloak, fastening a garden-hat round my head like a poke-bonnet, and attaching my veil to it. Then she tied up my umbrella like a market-woman’s, and let me out, giggling a little at my appearance, but promising faithfully not to leave Haidee till my return, and to “stand up to Sally” if she interfered.
I felt rather frightened at the boldness of my undertaking as I heard the hall door close upon me, and realized that I had nothing in the world but my umbrella and my wits to protect me all the long three miles and a half of road to Beaconsburgh. The moon was at the second quarter, but did not give much light, for it was a cloudy night, raining now and then. I was not sorry for this, as I was the less likely to be recognized, and it was not the sort of weather to encourage late loiterers. I passed two or three villagers, only one of whom walked unsteadily; but none of them took any notice of me; and I had got past the last of the Geldham cottages, and on to a piece of straight road up a hill, where there were no houses in sight, when I heard the sounds of a vehicle coming along at a good pace behind me. It slackened to come up the hill, and I, to keep up my character, bent over my umbrella, and walked more slowly. But this subterfuge had an undesired effect.
“Hallo, my good woman! Would you like a lift up the hill?” cried the driver; and my heart leapt up, for it was Laurence’s voice.
In a moment I felt like a different woman; my blood seemed dancing for joy, my pulses beat more quickly, and the spirit of mischief came into me so that I wanted to laugh aloud.
“Ay, ay!” I grunted out slowly; and, waiting until the cart came up to me, I climbed with his help and with seeming difficulty, carefully keeping my cloak over my hands, on to the seat by his side.
“All right?” said he; and again I grunted “Ay, ay!” and on we went.
Oh, how happy I felt to be again by his side! But it was rather hard not to be able to take the hand that was nearest to me, and nestle up to his shoulder, and tell him how miserable I had been since last night, when he had rushed away with the dreadful threat of not seeing me again. Well, now he should see me again; he could not help himself. I felt rather nervous as to what he would say when I did discover myself. Was he still angry? Would he insist upon my getting down and going the rest of the way on foot? Or would he say more unkind things to me? Or would he be pleased to see me, and forgive me?
He was not in a very conversational mood. Was he thinking of me, I wondered, or was it only that in my disguise I did not promise to prove an entertaining companion? He asked me if I was going to Beaconsburgh, and I said “Ay, ay!” again. I knew very well that a real countrywoman would not say “Ay, ay!” and I was surprised that it did not strike Laurence himself as a strange sort of answer.
I began to get impatient for him to know me. I looked at him furtively; he was evidently not at all curious or interested about his companion. But he looked very grave and thoughtful; and presently, to my exceeding comfort, he pulled down over his wrists two little uncomfortable woollen cuffs that I had made, and that he had bought of me at the sale. I remembered them quite well; we had had a struggle to get them over his wrists, as I had made them a convenient size, too large for a woman and too small for a man. It seemed to me that he handled them lovingly. Upon this encouragement I spoke.