But Joseph came not. Noon passed, the shadows crept round and lengthened, but still no sign. It might be that Sophia required time to consider his letter. In that there was at least this much of hope, that if she had become engaged to the Englishman there would have been no occasion for her to delay in saying so. He grew restless as the afternoon advanced, and by evening was so flushed and increasingly feverish that they gave him a composing draught, and so got him to sleep.
In the morning he was dull and stupid for some hours, but gradually the fumes of the night's potion dissipated. His first enquiry was what letters or messages had come. There had been none. It seemed strange that no member or office-bearer of his hitherto attached flock should have come near him. Some of the more remote and scattered would not know, but it was strange the villagers should hold aloof. Could they have imagined that his illness might be infectious? and yet they were not wont thus to avoid contagion. The very elders, part of whose duty it was to visit the sick, had kept away; and although they might have been expected to take some interest in seeing the pulpit filled, they yet had allowed Saturday to pass without coming near him. Even Mr. Sangster, the presiding elder had not come, although the illness had been brought on in attending upon his wife, and he must have known all about it. He would know also of the letter to Sophia. Could it be on account of that that he did not come? Yet why? If he had other views for the settlement of his daughter, why did he not say so? The silence was getting unbearable.
Sunday proved to be rainy, greatly to Mrs. Sangster's relief. She availed herself of the excuse to remain at home, her son and daughter were both laid up with severe colds, and Mr. Wallowby was not inclined to get himself wet. Mr. Sangster was therefore the sole occupant of the phaeton, and he did not reach the village till the church hour had arrived, and he had to hasten straight to the tent. There, with the associates Roderick had named, he did his best to extemporize some resemblance to a church service to the few shepherds (proof to rain and tempest) and old women crouching under umbrellas, who alone, defying the elements, had assembled as usual for their weekly meal of doctrine.
The diet of public worship was got over as speedily as possible, and at the conclusion a few parishioners knocked in passing to enquire after the minister's health. They were so few, however, as to excite the surprise of Mary, as well as her brother, and there had been no elder or deacon among them.
In the end Mr. Sangster did appear, he was admitted to the sick-room, and manifested the most cordial sympathy in Roderick's illness. He explained that the previous day being a market in a neighbouring town, he had gone thither, and had only got home a few minutes before Roderick's message, requesting him to assist at public worship, had been delivered.
He returned the heartiest thanks for Roderick's care of his wife, and was in every way as friendly as possible, but he made no allusion to the letter to Sophia or to the proposal which it contained, which is not remarkable seeing he had not heard of it.
Roderick lay and listened. The free and friendly tone did not look as if his suit had been received unfavourably, and yet it was alluded to in no way whatever. He gathered courage at last to enquire for Sophia, and was answered that she was laid up with a severe cold, but the manner of the reply was the most simple and ordinary, and showed no sign of an idea that more could be meant by the enquirer than met the ear.
Roderick inferred that the old man was favourable to his suit, and that the young lady was taking time to make up her mind. For the moment, therefore, his hopes rose, his mind grew easier, his body more at rest, and he spent a calmer evening and night than the preceding.
On Monday morning he was very hopeful. She had had a long Sunday undisturbed by the possibility of doing anything else, for it had rained steadily, to reflect on his petition, and she must surely return him an answer to-day.
Neither message, letter, or visitor appeared, however. 'Ah well,' he concluded at last, 'her father will no doubt bring it with him in the evening, when he comes to be present at the meeting of Session.'