“I have already told you that I dared not accost her. Often and often have I longed to burst through the green hedge which has concealed me from her view, and throw myself at her feet: but an invisible hand has restrained me—and I have experienced a species of awe for which I could not account, and which has made me feel as if I were in the vicinity of a goddess. Then, as to writing to her,” continued the impassioned young man, “I was once bold enough to commit a few words to paper—and I endeavoured to persuade the young servant-girl to give the note to her mistress.”
“And she treated you with contempt,” said Mrs. Mortimer, anticipating the fate of the billet from the fact that Jane, the pretty domestic, had so indignantly rejected her own proffer of five shillings.
“You have guessed rightly—and now I am more than ever convinced that you are well acquainted with the honest, upright, disinterested character of the dwellers in that cottage,” said the young gentleman.
Mrs. Mortimer remained silent for a few minutes. She was absorbed in thought. Should she enter into this new affair which seemed almost to force itself upon her? or had she not enough already upon her hands? She had promised to rejoin her daughter Laura by a particular day in Paris; and there was not much time to lose. Nevertheless, she had a good week, or even more, at her disposal—providing that she was speedily successful in tracing out Torrens; and, all things duly considered, she fancied that she might as well undertake a business which promised remuneration, and which would probably place her in a condition to learn secrets and dive into mysteries, a knowledge of which might prove serviceable in the hands of such an intriguing, mercenary disposition as her own. Moreover, the larger were her own special resources, the greater was her independence in respect to her rebellious daughter; and therefore, after a short interval passed in deep reflection, she said, “Sir, I am both ready and able to serve you. But my time is precious now, and will be so for a short time to come. Five days hence I will attend to any appointment that you may name.”
“I will give you my card,” said the young gentleman: “and I shall expect you to call upon me in the evening of the fifth day from this date.”
“Agreed!” ejaculated the old woman, as she received the card. “My name is Mortimer; and, although you do not address me as becomes my position, I can assure you that I am a lady by birth, education, and——”
She was about to say “conduct;” but the young gentleman, interrupted her timeously enough, though unwittingly on his part, to prevent her giving utterance to the atrocious lie;—for he observed, as he thrust his purse into her hand, “Pardon me, madam, if I have not behaved courteously towards you: but I presume that your circumstances are not as flourishing as they ought to be, and gold is no object to me. Five days hence we meet: till then, farewell.”
And, without waiting for any reply, he hurried away.
Mrs. Mortimer followed along the lane not with any purpose of watching him, but simply because her own route lay in the same direction. The echoes of his retreating steps, however, soon died in the distance; and the old woman sped along until she reached that public-house where, as the reader may remember, Tom Rain and Clarence Villiers met on the night of the elopement nearly twenty years before.