He started as he heard the door close loudly, and saw Mrs Slee go down the path to seek out her husband, and return the letter.
There was time now to call her back, but he did not move, only sat and watched her bear away that which he knew might have been used as the lever to overthrow Richard Glaire.
Once only did he hesitate, but it was when his thoughts reverted to Daisy Banks and the possibility of ill befalling her, through her intimacy with Richard Glaire.
“But I cannot take action on a letter that falls accidentally into my hands,” he said. “If I speak to the girl’s father it must be on the subject of what I have seen; and that I will do.”
He gave the matter a little consideration, and then determined to act at the risk of being considered a meddler, and walked straight to Joe Banks’s pleasant little home, where he found Mrs Banks and Daisy alone, the girl being in tears.
He was turning; back, so as to avoid being present during any family trouble, when Mrs Banks arrested him.
“Don’t you go away, sir, please, for I should like you to have your word with this girl as well as me. It’s no use to speak to her father and—Hoity-toity, miss.”
Poor Daisy did not stop to hear the rest; for already growing thin with worry and mental care connected with her love affair, Mrs Banks was leading her rather a sad life in her husband’s absence, ostensibly to benefit Tom Podmore, but really hardening the girl’s heart against him, if she had felt any disposition to yield: she now started up to hide her tears, and ran out of the room.
“Well, that’s fine manners, miss!” exclaimed Mrs Banks, apostrophising the absent one. “I’m always telling her and Joe, my husband, sir, that no good can come of her listening to young Master Dick Glaire.”
“Then you don’t approve of it, Mrs Banks?” said the vicar, quietly.