Why Nellie had returned to Highfield George, for his part, could not imagine; but he considered her conduct on the whole disgraceful, and begged to remind her that nothing but a satisfactory explanation could avert a rupture. She, in her selfishness, had supposed, no doubt, he would either light a lantern and seek to track her footsteps; or sit up and wait until she should be pleased to return. He had no intention of doing either of these things. A game of hide-and-seek about the Highfield lanes at dead of night, after a long and fatiguing day, was not much to his taste; while the rôle of henpecked lover, awaiting the return of a profligate fiancée to the family hearth, was a part he was still less suited for. It was his habit to retire at half past ten. He had retired, utterly worn out and exhausted. In the morning he would give Nellie an opportunity for explaining her conduct; and, if the explanation should prove unsatisfactory, he should seriously contemplate asking her to return all the presents he had given her.
"What has he given you, darling?" asked Sidney.
"Nothing whatever, dearest."
They had learnt a number of words like that while toiling up the hill.
"But surely, sweetheart, he must have given you something."
"I expect he's thinking of the furniture; but I got that for myself, though he doesn't know how."
Then they made their plans, but George had also made his. His usual habit was to permit the sun to warm the world before he walked upon it; but on this occasion he had requested Mrs. Dyer to call him early. Nellie, on the other hand, overslept, having nobody to call her, and being naturally tired after so much travelling, romance, excitement and happiness: excellent things but all fatiguing.
She woke with a dream of a battlefield where shells of monstrous size were exploding upon every side, each one missing her by inches; nor was this surprising for, upon opening her eyes, she soon became aware that stones were being hurled into the room.
"It can't be Sidney," she murmured sleepily. "He wouldn't wake me so roughly, even though I am late. Goodness—that's a rock!"
It was not Sidney. It was George, as she discovered by one swift glance. He frowned like an artillery man while adding to his stock of ammunition.