Things were worrying me, as things will if one is not feeling quite the thing. I was almost disposed to tell myself that I had made a mistake in coming to England. After all, I should have done better by remaining on the other side. Here there were so many things which were against me--in England there is no mercy for the woman that repenteth. And getting myself mixed up in this business was scarcely a promising beginning.
The arrival of my friend, the gentleman, acted as a pick-me-up. It did a poor, nerveless creature good to gaze on so vivid a representative of sunshine and of strength. I was leaning back upon a couch when he came in--somehow his knocking at the door had set all my pulses twittering. It was with an effort I looked up and met his eyes.
He looked so well in evening dress--it was the first time I had seen him in it. When one has lived for years with savages one notices such little things.
"It is good of you to come to cheer me. I am so much in want of being cheered."
He laughed, retaining my hand for a minute in his.
"The want is common to us both. I am in want of being cheered as much as you--we will cheer each other." He sat down on a little easy-chair, which he drew in front of me. "I have only just returned from Devonshire, which is like coming from the sunshine into the night."
"Have you been there alone?"
"I have been staying with a friend--Sir Haselton Jardine."
Sir Haselton Jardine? Where, quite recently, had I heard that name? Of course! It was the name of the famous counsel. I had seen it stated in that day's paper that he was to be retained by the Crown to prosecute Tommy.
I wondered if that item of news had come Mr. Townsend's way.