Rose walked down the turf slope towards the village without answering; she was too cross to discuss the question any further.
A new complication arose when they reached the rustic inn where Bob and the carriage had been left. One of Bob’s shoes was found to be loose, and it was necessary to get it fixed before starting for home.
Rose drew Rhoda aside, and spoke eagerly to her. “Miss Sampson, would you drive home with Pauline? I could walk across the downs and be home in half an hour. I don’t like to leave Aunt Lucy so long alone.”
“Will you let me go?” Rhoda answered, as eagerly as Rose had spoken. “I know the way quite well. I would so much rather go, if you don’t mind.”
Rose could quite well understand that Rhoda must find Pauline’s society unpleasant, even though Pauline now appeared bent on being agreeable to her. “Are you sure you know the way?” she said doubtfully. “But it is easy. You will see Woodcote when once you are on the top of the downs.”
“I know the way quite well,” Rhoda said, with a bright face. It was delightful to her to escape the drive home with Pauline.
She started at once, and was soon on the top of the downs, enjoying the breezy expanse of beautiful rolling country round her. Half an hour’s rapid walking brought her to the furzy common close to Woodcote woods. She had come down to it from the downs; and Tom, seated on his hillock, with his eyes turned to the road, did not become aware of her presence till she was quite close to him. He had been hidden by the gorse bushes from Rhoda till the moment before he started up. And she would have shyly hurried on without speaking to him if the sound of her step had not made him look round.
She hurriedly explained how she came to be there alone. “I don’t think they will be back for an hour or more,” she said, looking at the white ribbon of road Tom had been watching for so long. “The high road is much longer than the lane, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Tom briefly. He had forgotten all about the traction engine. In fact, he had hardly understood what Rhoda was saying. His heart was heavy within him.
They turned and walked down the sunny bit of slope, where the bees were busy among the golden gorse blossoms. Tom was not silent. He could not trust himself to be silent. He began to speak of the meeting he had just been attending at Croydon. He gave Rhoda a vivid account of it, which lasted till they got close to the house; then, with a hasty excuse of having forgotten to tell Jackson something, he left her.