There was another china shop in the town, so George tried his fortune there. This shop was kept by a fat lady, who turned sour when George informed her he had not come to purchase anything; and passed into indignation when he had unveiled the vases.
"Take 'em away, sir," she said sternly. "I wouldn't show such vulgar stuff in my window if you paid me for it. My establishment is noted for chaste designs—flowers, and birds, and butterflies—little lambs, and shepherdesses—and I deal wi' gentlefolk."
"A thing can be ugly, and yet priceless," said George.
"It's not the ugliness so much as the obscenity," replied the stout lady, who was herself no gracious object. "They were made, I fancy, by poor benighted heathens; though why people ship such stuff into England, when they can buy cheap and beautiful Christian home-made vases from such establishments as mine, I can't tell ye," she declared, handling one of the treasures so recklessly that George darted forward in great terror.
"Oh, you needn't be alarmed," she went on. "If I did break it, I'd give ye another pair, and something to be proud of. I should smash these nasty old things into crocks and put 'em in my flower-pots."
George returned to Highfield, wondering greatly. He knew nothing whatever concerning china, and apparently the local experts were no better informed than himself. Crampy, on the other hand, had valued the vases at a thousand pounds, although he admitted the possibility of their being forgeries; he was, however, prepared to pay the money and take the risk. Before reaching home George had fully decided to secure the thousand pounds before he commenced his pilgrimage.
He was absent from the village about three hours, and during that short period all manner of things had happened. The Yellow Leaf had often noted with regret that a strong leading incident rarely occurred in Highfield; but, when one did take place, it was almost sure to be accompanied by another, to the great confusion of the inhabitants who were compelled to discuss two incidents at the same time.
The first, and by far the most startling, incident took place quite early in the afternoon. Nellie had gone into Miss Yard's bedroom to look up some mending, and presently seated herself beside the window which overlooked the village street. That letter from Sidney worried her, but the knowledge of his loose principles troubled her far more. She remembered the words of his defence, indeed there was nothing much about him she had forgotten, as her memory was much better than Miss Yard's; and still she could not decide whether to answer the letter or to ignore it; whether to meet him once more or to let him go; whether to go on thinking of him—but that she had to do; or to hate him—though she couldn't.
"It's a dreary outlook," she murmured. "Little work and no love makes me a dull maid. I'm alone in the world, and somebody loves me, but he's a bad somebody. And another somebody is willing to marry me, but he's a silly old somebody. And I want the bad somebody."
"Hook it!" shrieked a parrot from the garden, addressing a bumblebee which was threatening to enter its cage.