“I can’t stand it any longer,” said he, as he paced the platform of the “railway” by which he had taken not an “up” but a “down” ticket. “I know I’m right. I must go down and see Miss Wagget. I’d rather talk to her than to the doctor. I know very well she sees how it is, and she’ll tell me what she thinks, and if she advises I’ll speak to the sergeant when I go to town, and so I shall soon know one way or other,” and he sighed profoundly, and with a yearning look townwards he took his place, and flew away toward Gilroyd.
CHAPTER LXX.
VIOLET DARKWELL TELLS MISS WAGGET THAT QUEEN ANNE IS DEAD.
The sun was near the western horizon, and sky and clouds were already flooded with the sunset glow, as William Maubray drove up to the high and formal piers of Gilroyd, with their tall urns at top—decorations which belong to old-world fancy—a little formal, like the stately dress of by-gone beauties and beaux, but with a sentiment and a prettiness of their own. Sad looked to him the smile of the old building and lordly trees in the fading sunlight; the windows sparkled redly in it, the ivy rustled in the light air, and the sparrows twittered and fluttered up and down among its glittering leaves—the time, the sights, and sounds recalling many an arrival at the same pleasant hour, and many a welcome look and tone—gone now—faint and far away in memory, and ever to grow more and more distant.
The hall door was opened—in went William without a summons—and in the hall he heard voices issuing from the drawing-room. Old Miss Wagget’s kindly and cheering tones were distinctly audible, and Winnie Dobbs was making answer as he entered. From the two old women, as he stepped in, there was a simultaneous ejaculation, and Winnie’s two hands were lifted in amaze, and she beamed on him with a ruddy smile of welcome, crying aloud, “Well, law! ’Tis him, sure enough!” and “There you are; what a charming surprise!” exclaimed Miss Wagget, trotting up to him with her hands extended, and shaking both his with a jolly little laugh.
“We walked over to pay our respects to good Winnie Dobbs here, little expecting to meet the lord of the castle. Ha, ha, ha! why we thought you were at Hamburg, and lo and behold! Here we have you! And I ventured to bring a friend, will you allow me to introduce?”
But Violet Darkwell—for she was the friend—not waiting for Miss Wagget’s mock ceremony, came a step or two to meet him, and again, in Gilroyd, he held that prettiest of slender hands in his.