Captain Loveday felt a kind of sinking in his poetry at the possibility of her for whom they had made such preparations being in the slow, unwieldy vehicle which crunched its way towards him; but he would not give in to the weakness. Neither would he walk down the street to meet the waggon, lest she should not be there. At last the broad wheels drew up against the kerb, the waggoner with his white smock-frock, and whip as long as a fishing-line, descended from the pony on which he rode alongside, and the six broad-chested horses backed from their collars and shook themselves. In another moment something showed forth, and he knew that Matilda was there.
Bob felt three cheers rise within him as she stepped down; but it being Sunday he did not utter them. In dress, Miss Johnson passed his expectations—a green and white gown, with long, tight sleeves, a green silk handkerchief round her neck and crossed in front, a green parasol, and green gloves. It was strange enough to see this verdant caterpillar turn out of a road-waggon, and gracefully shake herself free from the bits of straw and fluff which would usually gather on the raiment of the grandest travellers by that vehicle.
‘But, my dear Matilda,’ said Bob, when he had kissed her three times with much publicity—the practical step he had determined on seeming to demand that these things should no longer be done in a corner—‘my dear Matilda, why didn’t you come by the coach, having the money for’t and all?’
‘That’s my scrimping!’ said Matilda in a delightful gush. ‘I know you won’t be offended when you know I did it to save against a rainy day!’
Bob, of course, was not offended, though the glory of meeting her had been less; and even if vexation were possible, it would have been out of place to say so. Still, he would have experienced no little surprise had he learnt the real reason of his Matilda’s change of plan. That angel had, in short, so wildly spent Bob’s and her own money in the adornment of her person before setting out, that she found herself without a sufficient margin for her fare by coach, and had scrimped from sheer necessity.
‘Well, I have got the trap out at the Greyhound,’ said Bob. ‘I don’t know whether it will hold your luggage and us too; but it looked more respectable than the waggon on a Sunday, and if there’s not room for the boxes I can walk alongside.’
‘I think there will be room,’ said Miss Johnson mildly. And it was soon very evident that she spoke the truth; for when her property was deposited on the pavement, it consisted of a trunk about eighteen inches long, and nothing more.
‘O—that’s all!’ said Captain Loveday, surprised.
‘That’s all,’ said the young woman assuringly. ‘I didn’t want to give trouble, you know, and what I have besides I have left at my aunt’s.’
‘Yes, of course,’ he answered readily. ‘And as it’s no bigger, I can carry it in my hand to the inn, and so it will be no trouble at all.’