Doctor Drake was honoured that evening by a call from the proprietor of Revington, and gave him a history of the case; and Trevor accompanied him back again to Gilroyd, where he was about to make his evening visit, and awaited his report in the little gravel courtyard, stealing now and then a wistful glance up to the old-fashioned stone-faced windows. But Violet did not appear. It might have been different—I can’t say—had she known all that had passed between Miss Perfect and Vane Trevor respecting her. As it was, the young gentleman’s long wait was rewarded only by the return of Doctor Drake, and a saunter with him back again to Saxton.
Pretty nearly the same was the routine of several subsequent days. Fruits and vegetables, too, with messages came down from Revington; and in his interviews with old Winnie Dobbs he betrayed a great solicitude that the young lady should not wear herself out with watching and attendance.
On Sunday he was in the church-yard almost as early as the doors opened, and loitered there till the bell ceased ringing; and sat in his pew so as to command an easy view of the church door, and not a late arrival escaped his observation. But Violet Darkwell did not appear; and Vane Trevor walked home with little comfort from the Rev. Dr. Wagget’s learned sermon; and made his usual calls at Gilroyd and at Doctor Drake’s, and began to think seriously of writing to Violet, and begging an interview, or even penning the promptings of his ardent passion in the most intelligible terms. And I have little doubt that had he had a friend by him, to counsel him ever so little in that direction, he would have done so.
CHAPTER LV.
SUSPENSE
One day Trevor actually made up his mind to bring about the crisis; and pale as a man about to be hanged, and with the phantom of a smile upon his lips, after his accustomed inquiries, he told Mrs. Podgers, the cook, who, in the absence of Winnie Dobbs, officiated as hall-porter, to ask Miss Violet Darkwell if she would be so good as to give him just a moment. And on getting through his message his heart made two or three such odd jumps and rolls, that he was almost relieved when she told him that old Doctor Wagget had come by appointment, and that Miss Violet and Winnie were receiving the sacrament with the mistress, who, thank God, was getting on better every day.
“It’s wiser for me to wait,” thought Trevor, as he walked away, determined to take a long ride through the Warren, and over Calston Moor, and to tire himself effectually. “They never think what they’re doing, girls are so hand-over-head—by Jove, if she had not Miss Perfect to talk to she might refuse me, and be awfully sorry for it in a day or two. I must only have patience, and wait till the old woman is better. I forget how the woman said she is to-day. No matter—old Drake will tell me. It’s hanged unlucky, I know. I suppose she eat too much dinner with that great fellow, Maubray; or some nonsense—however, I’ll think it over in my ride; or, by Jove, I’ll take my gun and have a shot at the rabbits.”