"I think not," said John, serenely. "At all events, I'll run the risk."
That same afternoon saw John trudging back to the little town where he had left his portmanteau, to pass another night at the Saracen's Head. The next day, instead of returning to Oxford, he secured a place in the mail, and at night was on his travels due north, whither we must precede him.
When Walter Wilson returned from his journey homewards to his professional pursuits, there was no need for his friends Ralph and Mary to question him as to his speed. A few words were indeed spoken; but at Walter's rather stern request that nothing more might be said on the subject, or rather on the object of his journey, they silently acquiesced.
From that time onward, Walter paid more attention, if that were possible, to business, but his whole nature seemed changed. The frank good humour which, unless he were over-tired or in any respect put out of his way, generally marked him, had departed; and even to Mary Burgess his entire manner was altered. As to his constant pipe, it seemed to have lost its charm. He smoked more than ever, it is true; but he brooded over it.
"I must have some talk with Wilson," said Ralph to his sister one evening, as they were sitting together after a hard day's work.
"No, don't, Ralph. He will come to his old self again soon, I hope. Poor fellow, he has been sadly disappointed, you know."
"In that stupid love affair, you mean. Well, I suppose he has, but that needn't make him so mopish. There are as good fish in the sea as there are out of it, as your favourite, John Newton, says in one of his letters. There, you see, I can quote John Newton as well as you, Mary."
Mary smiled, and then sighed.
"And as to Walter having been crossed in love, after the specimen he has given of being in that happy state, I think I would rather keep out of it altogether, though it is love that 'makes the world go round, go round.'"
Many conversations of a like sort had been held between the brother and sister, but no improvement had taken place in the subject of them, who, on the contrary, seemed to grow more dissatisfied, morose, and silent.