But there was a great hole made in the three hundred pounds of ready money they had been hoping by this time to furnish a little house with!
On one point Marion was resolute. Before Geoffrey should “dare to allude to such a thing as going back to business,” he must have a little change of air. To which he offered no great objection provided she would go with him. “She,” of course, including baby Mary and her nurse. So to Sandbeach they went for a week, thereby making a still greater hole in the little nest-egg, but enjoying themselves amazingly nevertheless.
Back again at Millington, there was no help for it. Geoffrey must no longer delay presenting himself at Mr. Baxter’s office, and resuming the weary jog-trot of his uncongenial duties. But it was with a lighter heart than ever he had dared to hope for, that the young man paced the long stretch of dirty pavement, which in the last fifteen months had grown so familiar to him.
Marion was watching anxiously for his re-turn.
“You are not very tired, Geoffrey?” she asked, as she met him at the door.
“Oh no,” he replied cheerfully. “I’ve got on very well, and I did eat some luncheon, Marion, I did, indeed. They were very kind and cordial to me down there, old Baxter and the rest, hoping I was all right again, and all that sort of thing.”
Later in the evening, as they were sitting together quietly, Geoffrey resting on the sofa, he suddenly exclaimed, “By-the-by, Marion, I heard rather a queer thing to-day. Last week while we were at Sandbeach it appears we had a visitor.”
“A visitor?” she repeated. “What do you mean?”
“Well, not a visitor exactly. He didn’t come to this house; but somebody, a gentleman, called at the office and asked if I was there. They told him of my illness, so he asked to see old Baxter, and made particular enquiries about me. How long I had been ill, and I don’t know all what. He didn’t leave his name, at least if he did Baxter won’t tell it; but the clerks say they are sure he was what they call a ‘swell.’ (Don’t scold me, Marion, I'm not talking slang.) I should never have heard of it, but through one of them who saw him come in, and overheard my name. Old Baxter was uncommonly civil to him, they say; showed him out himself, and was fearfully obsequious. I wish the sight of my grand friend, if he is a friend of mine, would make the old screw raise my salary, I know! But there's no chance of any such luck. I shall never get on in Millington I fear, Marion. I can’t understand their ways. I can keep books and so on well enough. I’ve had to do with farm books all my life; but it’s quite a different sort of thing.”
“Poor Geoffrey,” she said, sympathisingly. “But it will never do for you to get low-spirited the very first day you’re back at your work. Let us talk of something else. Who can this gentleman have been. What was he like?”