“I made Charles come in and give an account of his purchases in the woolen-drapery line,” observed Mr. Duncan, “that there might be no mistake in so important a transaction, Hilary; when you have arranged about quantities and other necessaries, he says he will turn the matter of making over to the village sempstress.”
Hilary made no answer, busying herself with the tea equipage, which was on the table.
“How are the children?” inquired Charles, drawing near her; and then adding, as the vicar went out of the room, “do not be displeased with me for coming once more.”
She colored, and answered, “I am very much obliged for your going with my father, Mr. Huyton, and also for the arrangements you have made about this business. The little ones are much the same, thank you, but they will be better to-morrow, I hope. Do you stay to tea this evening?”
“May I?—I should like—I have made up my mind during my ride; I will go abroad to-morrow; but I have not told your father, and it may seem unkind to leave abruptly, without any explanation. But I will do exactly as you please.”
“I have made tea for you,” replied Hilary, busying herself as she spoke, in putting water into the tea-pot, and thereby avoiding looking up.
While they three were sitting together round the tea-table, Charles Huyton said, rather to the surprise of Mr. Duncan,
“Do you know, sir, I am thinking of going abroad.”
“Abroad!” exclaimed the vicar, with an expression of sorrow in his countenance; “I had hoped, Charles, you were going to settle here for life.”
“So did I, at one time,” replied Charles; “but circumstances have interfered, and I am proposing a visit to my mother’s family at Dresden; they have asked me several times during the last two years, and now I mean to go.”