“You goose! Do you suppose I said it to deceive you?”
There was a lightness, an untruthfulness in his words, in his whole air and manner, which struck with the utmost pain upon Maria’s heart. “Why did you say it?” was all she answered.
“Maria, I’ll tell you the truth,” said he, becoming serious and confidential. “I wanted to run up to town on a little pressing matter of business, and I did not care that it should become known in the Bank. Had I known that I should be away for the day, of course I should have told Thomas: but I fully intended to be home in the afternoon: therefore I said nothing about it. I missed the train, or I should have been home in due time.”
“You might have told me,” she sighed. “I would have kept your counsel.”
“So I would, had I thought you deemed it of any consequence,” replied George.
Consequence! Maria walked on a few minutes in silence, her arm lying very spiritless within her husband’s. “If you did not tell me,” she resumed, in a low tone, “why did you tell Mrs. Pain?”
“Mrs. Pain’s a donkey,” was George’s rejoinder. And it is probable Mr. George at that moment was thinking her one: for his tone in its vexation, was real enough. “My business was connected with Verrall, and I dropped a hint, in the hearing of Mrs. Pain, that I might probably follow him to town. At any rate, I am safe home again, Maria, so no great harm has come of my visit to London,” he concluded, in a gayer tone.
“What time did you get in?” she asked.
“By the seven o’clock train.”
“The seven o’clock train!” she repeated in surprise. “And have only now come up to Ashlydyat!”