Tom had been obliged to go to Guilford that day on farm business; but somehow he had managed to get back early, and he strolled into the garden just as they sat down to tea, not looking in the least as if he had just ridden twelve miles at headlong speed.
A faint smile crossed Miss Merivale’s pale face as she saw him. It was what she had been hoping for.
She left the talk during tea-time to him and Rhoda, who had plenty to say to each other. They were both enthusiasts about a garden, and found it intensely interesting to compare notes. After tea, Tom was eager to show Rhoda some white violets in the wood close by. He found she had never seen any.
They went off together, and Miss Merivale could hear their eager, happy voices as they searched about the wood looking for the violets, just like two children. She leant back in her chair, closing her eyes. For the moment the ache at her heart was stilled. She was hoping that all might yet come right.
Rhoda went home that evening feeling like a different creature. Mrs. M’Alister had a jealous pang or two as she listened to her account of the happy time she had had.
“Don’t you trust too much to her promises, child,” she said anxiously. “She’s taken a sudden fancy to you, that’s clear enough; but it mightn’t last. She might take a fancy to somebody else next week, and forget all about you. I have heard of people like that.”
“I don’t think Miss Merivale is a bit like that,” returned Rhoda stoutly. “Hasn’t she a sweet, kind face, Aunt Mary? I wish she didn’t look so ill.”
“Don’t rest your hopes on her too much,” repeated Mrs. M’Alister, shaking her head gloomily. “James will be in again to-night, and you will hear what he says. He has heard of a firm that wants a lady-clerk. We think you’d better try for it, Rhoda. I’d like to see you settled before we go away. I’ve been wishing and wishing this afternoon that you could go with us.”
“You mustn’t say that to Mr. Price, Aunt Mary,” Rhoda said quickly. “You know how it vexes him. And he is very kind. You heard him tell me that I was to ask him for any money I wanted. But I don’t think I shall want any. Miss Merivale said again this afternoon that she would be able to get me as much work as I could do. She is going to write to me on Monday. I am quite sure she meant it. And I don’t want to try for work in an office if I can help it. I should feel in prison.”
Miss Merivale had spoken very vaguely of the work she was going to give Rhoda. She had, in truth, made up her mind that Rhoda must come to Woodcote. She was only waiting till Rose came home to arrange it. However much she surprised Rose and Tom, however difficult it would be to explain why she wanted Rhoda, Rhoda must come to her. She could not leave Lydia’s girl alone in London. And Tom’s surprise, at least, would have no element of annoyance in it. It was quite plain already that Rhoda’s company was delightful to him.