Beauclerc must have done this. But he was not in general an early riser. However, she concluded that he had gone over thus early to Old Forest, to see his friend Lord Beltravers, who was to have arrived the day before, with his sisters. She saw a boat rowing down the river, and she had no doubt he was gone. But just as she had settled to her drawing, she heard the joyful bark of Beauclerc’s dog Nelson, who came bounding towards her, and the next moment his master appeared, coming down the path from the wood. With quick steps he came till he was nearly close to her, then slackened his pace.
“Good morning!” said Helen; she tried to speak with composure, but her heart beat—she could not help feeling surprise at seeing him—but it was only surprise.
“I thought you were gone to Old Forest?” said she.
“Not yet,” said he.
His voice sounded different from usual, and she saw in him some suppressed agitation. She endeavoured to keep her own manner unembarrassed—she thanked him for the nicely-cut pencil, and the exactly well-placed seat. He advanced a step or two nearer, stooped, and looked close at her drawing, but he did not seem to see or know what he was looking at.
At this moment Nelson, who had been too long unnoticed, put up one paw on Miss Stanley’s arm, unseen by his master, and encouraged by such gentle reproof as Helen gave, his audacious paw was on the top of her drawing-book the next moment, and the next was upon the drawing—and the paw was wet with dew.—“Nelson!” exclaimed his master in an angry tone.
“O do not scold him,” cried Helen, “do not punish him; the drawing is not spoiled—only wet, and it will be as well as ever when it is dry.”
Beauclerc ejaculated something about the temper of an angel while she patted Nelson’s penitent head.
“As the drawing must be left to dry,” said Beauclerc, “perhaps Miss Stanley would do me the favour to walk as far as the landing-place, where the boat is to meet me—to take me—if—if I MUST go to Old Forest!” and he sighed.
She took his offered arm and walked on—surprised—confused;—wondering what he meant by that sigh and that look—and that strong emphasis on must. “If I must go to Old Forest.” Was not it a pleasure?—was it not his own choice?—what could he mean?—What could be the matter?