“We shall come down and see them again soon.”
“I saw Mrs. Withers, and Mrs. Hartley and old Mrs. Eddy had come from the almshouses. I waved. They were waving. It would have been nice to stop, but we haven’t the time.”
“No, that would only have made a rush at the station.”
Stopping like that would have been intolerable. Besides, it was better to break quickly with the old than to linger by it. The village would be all right. They must be on a hill now. How slow it was. They might miss that train. Then they could always take the next one. But it was this train that mattered, they must catch this train, he had thought so much of it, tearing across the country to the biggest town of all. Everything would give way to it, it was his train.
“We are just passing the last of your estate, dear”; for it was still his.
“Yes?”
Thank God for that. They were almost out of the circle now.
She did feel miserable, yes, it was being worse than she thought it would be. See how the corn was coming up, and the blossom just peeping through the trees. Two partridges, frightened by the car, shot away to curl over the hedge at the bottom of that field. Spring, and they were leaving. But then October was always the best month down here, they would come back for that, she had promised herself and Mabel. There was Norbury, quite close now, with some blue sky over it and a great rainbow—over the station no doubt.
“Are you happy, John?”
“Yes, very.”