I am afraid I began to feel glad that I had not thought of closing the lattice until it was too late.
It seems strange that after such thoughts I should have resolved not to see Mr. Marsden again. He had called me brave. I said to myself, "I will deserve his good opinion. He shall not have to take Mr. Winn's advice, and run away from me. I will run away from him. I will not bring him into a contest with his mother, or sow the seeds of trouble between them. If there is a trial to be borne, I will take the larger share. Besides, Lois Anstey is not quite without pride, or a sense of her own value. I do care for Mr. Marsden, but even he should seek me and take pains to win me; and into no family would I enter unless the mother could hold out motherly arms and bid me welcome as a daughter."
Two circumstances enabled me to carry out my resolution without difficulty. Mr. Marsden and Mr. Winn had started on one of their usual expeditions before I was down in the morning, and the post brought me a letter from Mary Baxendell, in which she implored me to spend the rest of my holidays at High Lea.
"We are at home," she wrote, "ten days sooner than was at first arranged. At least, my mother and I are here, and feeling rather dull, as my father is still away. If you will come to us, darling Miss Anstey, I shall be quite reconciled to our shortened tour. Do not trouble to write—come."
Go I did, and on that very day. I told Mrs. Jennings that a friend wanted me, and must set out with as little delay as possible; that I was not going straight to Hillstowe, but should be there in due time to resume my teaching. I soon packed my belongings, which were placed in the farmer's trap amid many regrets and hopes that I would go to Roundtree Farm next summer. Then, having more than satisfied my kind landlady, I turned my back on Hailsby-le-Beck, and thus passed that fourth milestone out of the six I wish specially to remember.
[CHAPTER V.]
MARY BAXENDELL gave me a delightful welcome. She clung round my neck, kissed me, called me the best of darlings for coming so quickly, and then danced off to tell her mother of my arrival.
Mrs. Baxendell, less demonstrative, was no less kind, and the remainder of my holidays sped very happily, in spite of memories of the kitchen at Roundtree Farm, and those who gathered round its hearth.
Stop! I must be true. Was I quite happy? Did I rejoice in the thought that Mr. Marsden would have no means of tracing me if he wished to do so, and that under the circumstances I should soon be forgotten? Again, I must own that my happiness was not quite without alloy, and I wondered whether, if he cared so much for me, I had a right to risk his as well as my own.
I was half tempted to send a line to Mrs. Jennings, "just to inform her of my arrival," I said to myself, and then I scouted the idea. If I had written, my letter would have been for no such purpose, but from a cowardly regret for having run away, and to give Mr. Marsden a chance of following and finding me. In my own mind I pictured the scene at the farm, when Mrs. Jennings delivered my farewell messages to them. I could imagine Mr. Marsden's dismay and his friend's sympathy, which would be half congratulatory. I seemed to hear inquiries after my destination, and Mrs. Jennings' reply that she did not know it. Then there would be a hunt for the letter I had written when seeking accommodation; but that would be vain, as I had myself twisted it up as a pipe-lighter for Mr. Jennings.