Richard hesitated, for there was a battle going on within his breast. He longed—longed intensely to go down and see Cornwall again. Tiny Rea was there—he might see her. Yes, and make himself more wretched than ever, for he could not speak to her. It would be madness to go—and yet once—to see the old place before he left England—just for a few hours. And why should he not see Tiny, just to tell her of his unaltered faith? He felt that he would give the world to go, and yet pride kept him back, “All right—I’ll walk in, Mrs Fiddison,” said a voice, and Frank Pratt entered.
“Well, Dick, old man, how are you? Ah, Humphrey, I told you I should turn up some time.”
“I’m trying to get Master Dick here, sir, to come down and be my best man at the wedding.”
“Well, he’ll do that for you, surely,” said Pratt, quietly. “Go down, Dick. I’ve promised Humphrey to go. I said I would directly he asked.”
Pratt looked very solemn over it; but there was tremendous exultation in his heart as he thought of seeing Pin, for the family had left Russell Square directly after the unpleasant éclaircissement.
“He’ll come, Humphrey. There, I’ll promise for him, and so you may make your mind happy.”
“But just say you will, Master Dick,” said Humphrey, rising.
“Well, I will, Humphrey,” said Richard, holding out his hand, though he repented the next moment, as his successor took his leave.
“Seen Mrs Vanleigh lately?” said Pratt, as soon as they were alone.
“Poor woman! no, not for two days. I must call.”