"There's been a gentleman had your rooms this week-end," said Mrs. Barrett, as she provided refreshment. "Mr. Mayne, a clergyman. They do say he's to be made a bishop. He was fine and took up with the building, and as friendly as ever I see. I'm sure we oughter be grateful to the Lord for sending of the Captain down here. A godsend to this village he be. There's Carter down the lane, talked of drowning hisself, he did; wife and three childer, no work to be had, nowhere to live if he got it. Now he's to have head gardener's place, and Captain's going to build him a cottage, four rooms and a kitchen! He just goes about, does the Captain, and finds out truth about everybody. Nobody's going to get over him, not they! Keeps his eyes skinned, and no mistake about it. Been into the bar of the Hearty Welcome night after night since he's been staying there, and found out all he wants to know about they chaps. He's got the whip-hand of the lot by now; knows twice as much about 'em as what vicar does; and it's my belief, he'll be the best served master in this county."
Melicent drank her milk absently. She wished, yet dreaded to see Hubert again. Her novel mood of self-abasement craved humiliation. Since realising how unlovable her conduct had been, she was invaded by unreasonable desires to let him know that she was really not such a beast as she seemed. A wish to tell him that she knew who he was, and would like to be friends, assailed her like a temptation, though she knew that such confidences would be the very height and apex of folly.
There was nothing for it, she firmly told herself, as she put on her shady hat and mounted her bicycle, but to remain upon business terms.
It gave her a little shock of joy, as she neared the gate leading to the Captain's property, to see the grey walls high enough to be clearly discerned from the road.
She rode noiselessly over the pasture, dismounted at the hill, wheeled her bicycle forward among the trees, and propped it against the trunk of a big beech.
The workmen were gone. She could see Hubert sitting there, on the pile of planks where she had sat last month. How long ago that seemed! How far she had travelled since their drive together!
He did not appear to be doing anything but meditating. His arms rested on his knees, his hands hung down between; he was looking at the ground. Melicent was taken with a sudden conviction that it would be wise to turn and run before he saw her. She combated the feeling with indignation. She remembered how loath she had been to go that drive. And how glad she now was that she went! It had made so vast a difference to her, she felt something as Gareth felt when he unhorsed the dread Black Knight, and found the rosy child within.
Why not go forward?
The alternative no longer remained: he looked up and saw her.
She came towards him from among the trees, in her white gown, wearing a look he had never seen upon her face before in life, though he had dreamed of it now and then. Her eyes seemed to have grown larger, darker, softer. Her face was of that warm rose whiteness which relieves itself so vividly and strangely against a white dress.