Mr. Bragg called at Jessamine Cottage about noon the day after May's return. He asked to see Mrs. Dobbs, and remained talking with her alone for some time. He had made up his mind, he told her, to give Mr. Rivers a permanent post in his employment, if he chose to accept it. He thought of offering him the management of the Oldchester office, if, after a three months' trial, he found it suited him, and he suited it. There was no technical knowledge of the manufacture needed for this post: merely a clear head, honesty, the power of keeping accounts, and of conducting a large business correspondence.
"I think he can do it," said Mr. Bragg; "and, if he can, he may." Then he informed Mrs. Dobbs that he had telegraphed to Mr. Rivers to come down to Oldchester. He would there find, at the office in Friar's Row, a letter with all details. "As for me," said Mr. Bragg, "I shall cross him on the road. I am going to town by the three-thirty express. You needn't mention what I've told you to Miss C. I thought, perhaps, she'd like better to hear it—as an agreeable bit of news, I hope—from him."
What more may have passed between them Granny never reported. He went away without seeing May, merely leaving a message, "His kind regards, and he hoped she was feeling well and rested."
"Oh, I wish I had seen him!" exclaimed May, when this message was faithfully delivered by Granny. "I wanted so much to thank him again. It's too bad! I wonder why he went away without seeing me."
"Do you?" said Granny shortly. "Well, perhaps he thought he'd had bother enough with you for one while. He's got other things to do besides dancing attendance on young ladies who wander about the world, fainting from want of food, and requiring special trains, and all manner of dainties." Privately she observed to Mr. Weatherhead that innocence was mighty cruel sometimes, as could be exemplified any day by trusting a young child with a kitten.
"H'm! Mr. Bragg isn't exactly a kitten, Sarah," returned Jo.
"True, a kitten will scratch! He's a man, and a good 'un; and I'll tell you what, Jo, if Joshua Bragg wanted his shoes blacked, I'd go down on my old knees to do it for him."
May's legacy was a great piece of news for Mr. Weatherhead. He was not only delighted at it for her sake, but he enjoyed the importance of disseminating it. Jo went about the city from the house of one acquaintance to another. He also looked in at the Black Bull, where he ordered a glass of brandy-and-water in honour of May's good fortune. The item of news he brought was a welcome contribution to the general fund of gossip. The subjects of Mr. Lucius Cheffington's funeral, and how the old lord had taken the death, and whether Captain Cheffington would come back to England now that he was the heir, and make it up with his uncle, were by this time beginning to be worn a little threadbare; or, at all events, had lost their first gloss.
In this way it speedily became known to those interested in the matter that May Cheffington had arrived at her grandmother's house. Among others, the intelligence reached Theodore Bransby. Theodore had been frequently in Oldchester of late, on business of various kinds, chiefly connected with the approaching election. He had never relinquished the hope of winning May; and he believed that the death of Lucius was a circumstance favourable to his hopes. He did not doubt that the new turn of affairs would bring Captain Cheffington to England forthwith; and he as little doubted that many doors—including Mr. Dormer-Smith's—would be opened widely to Captain Cheffington now, which had been closed to him for years. Moreover, Theodore was convinced that one immediate result of her father's presence would be to separate May altogether from Mrs. Dobbs, and the unfitting associates who haunted her house, and claimed acquaintanceship with Miss Cheffington. May, he knew, had a weak affection for the vulgar old woman. But her father's authority would be strong enough to sever her from Mrs. Dobbs; and, for the rest, Captain Cheffington was his friend; whereas he was instinctively aware that Mrs. Dobbs was not. Latterly, too, ever since his father's death, May's manner to him had been very gentle.
He was meditating these things as he walked up the garden path to Jessamine Cottage. May caught sight of him from the window, and sprang up in consternation, crying to Granny to tell Martha he was not to be admitted. Mrs. Dobbs, however, told May to run upstairs out of the way, and determined to receive the visitor herself.