"Listen, Eunice," he began, flinging himself down beside her. "I have news for you."
"News!" she echoed, still intent upon the caterpillar. "Isn't it a lovely green?"
"I'm going away."
She raised her head, and two violet eyes, with a puzzled expression, were dreamily fixed upon him, half-questioning.
"Going away! Where to?... Oh, there, I've lost it!" as the caterpillar fell among the grass.
"To Stratford first," Henry answered in a lordly way; "afterwards—London, I daresay."
Eunice was profoundly impressed. London! Wasn't that a risky undertaking? She knew it to be a wonderful place when one got there, but had heard it was crowded with people who did terrible things. Mr. Jukes, the landlord of the "Wings and Spur," had been to London on some law business not long ago, and could talk of nothing else since. Indeed, Edward John Charles had felt Mr. Jukes's rivalry very keenly; for the innkeeper's visit being of later date than his, the glory of it was fresher to the Hampton mind.
Henry, conscious that he had taken her breath away, gathered up his knees and fell to dreaming of London. The shadows of evening crept softly upon them as they sat there; the trees on the high ground behind them rustled gently in the light summer breeze; and somehow, the whole scene—the sloping meadow, the darkening hedgerows, the shadowy outline of the country beyond—mingled strangely with his dreams of the future. Years afterwards, when the quiet, peaceful life of Hampton was a dear thing of the past to him, the scent of new-mown hay recreated that evening in every detail, and he saw again the rose-flushed lass who had sat in silent wonder by his side.
Mr. Charles was of opinion that the sooner his son was started on his upward course the better. Henry, therefore, was withdrawn from school, and immediate preparations made for his departure—preparations in which Edward John took no manual part, but which, judging by the poise of his coat-tails, went forward to his mind. Mrs. Charles even forgot to take the curl-papers out of her hair for two whole days before the eventful morning.
On the eve of the day appointed for Henry's departure Mr. Page called in to wish him good-bye. A little later the vicar flashed for a moment into the dingy interior of the shop and shook hands with him.