The farmer was not at home, so John lost the opportunity of a quarrel in that quarter. Mrs. Mark was, as usual, gone to lie down—her usual practice in the afternoon—she being indisposed—as usual also.
"And Miss Sarah?"
Miss Sarah was in the garden, the maid of all work gave the querist to understand, adding with a gesture and smile, which ought to have sent John to the right-about at once, that she "dared to say Master Tincroft knew how to find her if he had a mind to. But—"
Awkward John, who had no suspicion of hidden meaning, quietly turned to the garden gate, and following his true instinct of stupidity, made his way onward to the lovers' walk.
Now I have said that this walk was a shady one: it was, in fact, a pleasant alley with high untopped and unpruned filbert trees on either hand, and terminating in a rustic summer-house, with closely trimmed holly sides, back, and roof. The filbert trees were in good bearing, the thick clusters browning in the autumn sun; and Sarah, with a basket at her feet, was employed in nutting on a somewhat large scale.
For a short space of time, Tincroft stood at a distance unobserved, while watching the "neat-handed Phillis" deftly transferring the clusters to her half-filled basket. But soon, he ventured nearer, and his approaching footsteps attracting the damsel's attention extracted from her the pretty feminine exclamation (or so John thought it)—
"Oh my, Mr. Tincroft! How did you get here?"
John pointed to the garden entrance, and explained that, having made inquiries of the servant, he had learned that Mr. Wilson was not at home, and that Mrs. Wilson was not well enough to see a friend, as also that Miss Wilson was in the garden; and so he had taken the liberty of intruding on her solitude, just to say— And here he stopped short.
"And the best thing you can do now you are here, Mr. Tincroft, will be to help me gather these stupid filberts," said Sarah, with a pretty toss of her head, and a charming frankness which quite enraptured the foolish fellow. If the filbert trees had been guarded by a dragon as fierce as that which watched over the golden apples of the Hesperides, John could not have resisted the challenge—so he thought: and, without further ado, he set about his task in solemn silence.
"You wanted to see father, didn't you, Mr. Tincroft?" said the young lady presently, during a pause in the work.