But as Rex walked back to Oafham that evening it was with a weight on his mind that he saw no chance of removing. Hitherto he had only pictured to himself an ideal pastoral shepherd as Fairy’s foster-father, and though John Shelley might have sat to an artist as a patriarchal shepherd, there was nothing ideal or poetical about Charlie: a more realistic clod-hopping youth it would be hard to meet with, even in the South Downs. And this was Fairy’s foster-brother! Just imagine his mother’s face or Lady Oafham’s if they were introduced to Charlie as the foster-brother of Rex’s future wife. Such a thought was so appalling that it actually prevented Rex from paying his accustomed visit the next day, though he was miserable, and so afraid he might have offended Fairy by his absence, that after a sleepless night and a very impatient morning, he presented himself at the shepherd’s house the next day as usual.
“Why didn’t you come yesterday?” were Fairy’s first words.
“My dear Fairy, we can’t expect Mr. de Courcy to honour us with a visit every day,” said Mrs. Shelley, reprovingly.
“Did you miss me? If I only dared to think you did!” said Rex, in French.
“Never mind that; I want to know why you did not come yesterday. Come, confess my foster-brother frightened you away now, didn’t he?” said Fairy, in the same language.
And Rex, bargaining first for absolution, made a full confession of his fault, and, in spite of Mrs. Shelley’s presence, would have gone on, under cover of a foreign language, to confess his love too, if the arrival of John Shelley had not stopped him. The shepherd looked grave when he saw Mr. de Courcy, but Rex made himself so pleasant and agreeable that the frown vanished from his face, and it was only after Rex had left that he resumed his grave look.
The shepherd was very silent during supper, and Mrs. Shelley was not wrong in her conjecture that there was a marital lecture in store for her when Fairy was gone to bed and they were alone.
“Polly,” said the shepherd, suddenly, as Fairy’s door closed, “how long has this been going on?”
“Has what been going on?” returned Mrs. Shelley, knowing well enough all the while what her husband meant.
“How long have you been deceiving me and allowing that young gentleman to steal my poor little Fairy’s heart?” said John, sternly.