The stranger shrugged his shoulders, and said “Humph” in an incredulous manner, and that was his sole reply in words. He turned, however, and walked by Mollie’s side, leaning heavily on his stick, and taking such short, laboured steps, that it was evident that the exercise was almost too much for his strength. Mollie longed to offer him the support of her strong arm, but even her audacity failed at the sight of the grim face. She looked inquiringly at his feet, for the symptoms of temper all hinted to the explanation of gout. But no! there were no cloth shoes to be seen, only the trimmest of well-polished boots.
“Perhaps he is just recovering from an attack, or sickening for another,” said Mollie to herself. “Anyway, he is ill, poor old fellow, for his face looks quite grey, just like that poor Mr Burgess before he died. I expect he can’t help being cross. I should be horrid myself if I were always in pain. I remember that day I had on those new boots that hurt my feet, I quarrelled with Ruth all the way home... The question is, shall I talk, or let him alone? If it were me, I’d like to be amused, to make the time pass. I’ll try anyway, and see how he responds.”
They had entered one of the smaller paths by this time, and to the right lay the wide, grey surface of a lake dotted over by little islands, the largest of which was connected with the shore by an ornamental bridge. Mollie felt a kind of possessive pride in the scene, and pointed out the beauties thereof as eagerly as though she were the owner of all she surveyed.
“It’s the largest lake in any of the parks in the north; some people say it is nearly as big as the Serpentine. I don’t know, for I have never been in London. In summer-time hundreds of men come and sail boats—quite great big boats—from side to side. It looks so pretty to see all the white sails floating about in the sunshine.”
“Indeed!”
(“Doesn’t care for boats. I’ll try something else.”) “Do you see that big island, the biggest of all?” pursued the indefatigable Mollie aloud. “It is full of peacocks. There are dozens and dozens of peacocks! You can see them sometimes strutting about with their tails spread out, and roosting right up in the trees. People say that peacocks are the laziest birds in existence. They go to rest earlier, and get up later than anything else.”
“Indeed!”
Still grimmer silence; still slower and more halting footsteps. Presently the stranger stopped short and asked abruptly—
“How far are we still from Langton Terrace? Five minutes’ walk—ten minutes? We are more than half-way, I suppose?”
“Not quite, I am afraid. If you are tired, would you not rest on this seat for a few minutes? It is really quite sheltered behind the trees. If you can tell me which end of the terrace you want to reach, it will make a little difference in the way we ought to take. There are three blocks of houses, which are all known by the same name. You wanted to go to—”