Hearing this, the best of genial old maids was unable to restrain her curiosity. “Where are you going?” she asked.
Too confused to think of an excuse, I said I was going to the farm.
“To see my dear Euneece?” Miss Jillgall burst out. “Oh, we will go with you!” Mrs. Tenbruggen’s politeness added immediately, “With the greatest pleasure.”
CHAPTER XLVII. THE JOURNEY TO THE FARM.
My first ungrateful impulse was to get rid of the two cumbersome ladies who had offered to be my companions. It was needless to call upon my invention for an excuse; the truth, as I gladly perceived, would serve my purpose. I had only to tell them that I had arranged to walk to the farm.
Lean, wiry, and impetuous, Miss Jillgall received my excuse with the sincerest approval of it, as a new idea. “Nothing could be more agreeable to me,” she declared; “I have been a wonderful walker all my life.” She turned to her friend. “We will go with him, my dear, won’t we?”
Mrs. Tenbruggen’s reception of this proposal inspired me with hope; she asked how far it was to the farm. “Five miles!” she repeated. “And five miles back again, unless the farmer lends us a cart. My dear Selina, you might as well ask me to walk to the North Pole. You have got rid of one of us, Mr. Governor,” she added, pleasantly; “and the other, if you only walk fast enough, you will leave behind you on the road. If I believed in luck—which I don’t—I should call you a fortunate man.”
But companionable Selina would not hear of a separation. She asked, in her most irresistible manner, if I objected to driving instead of walking. Her heart’s dearest wish, she said, was to make her bosom friend and myself better acquainted with each other. To conclude, she reminded me that there was a cab-stand in the next street.
Perhaps I might have been influenced by my distrust of Mrs. Tenbruggen, or perhaps by my anxiety to protect Eunice. It struck me that I might warn the defenseless girl to be on her guard with Mrs. Tenbruggen to better purpose, if Eunice was in a position to recognize her in any future emergency that might occur. To my mind, this dangerous woman was doubly formidable—and for a good reason; she was the bosom friend of that innocent and unwary person, Miss Jillgall. So I amiably consented to forego my walk, yielding to the superior attraction of Mrs. Tenbruggen’s company. On that day the sunshine was tempered by a delightful breeze. If we had been in the biggest and worst-governed city on the civilised earth, we should have found no public vehicle, open to the air, which could offer accommodation to three people. Being only in a country town, we had a light four-wheeled chaise at our disposal, as a matter of course.