A Tale of a Lonely Parish Part 6

John felt that he blushed violently as he took Mrs. G.o.ddard's hand. He would not have believed that he could feel so much embarra.s.sed, and he hated himself for betraying it. But n.o.body noticed his colour. The weather was bright and cold, and even Mrs. G.o.ddard's pale and delicate skin had a rosy tinge.

"We were just going for a walk," she explained.

"And we were going to see you at the Hall," said the vicar to Mr. Juxon.

"Let us do both," said the latter. "Let us walk to the Hall and have a cup of tea. We can look at the ice and see whether it will bear to-morrow."

Everybody agreed to the proposal, and it so fell out that the squire and the vicar went before while John and Mrs. G.o.ddard followed and Nellie walked between them, holding Stamboul by the collar, and talking to him as she went. John looked at his companion, and saw with a strange satisfaction that his first impression, the impression he had cherished so long, had not been a mistaken one. Her deep violet eyes were still sad, beautiful and dreamy. Her small nose was full of expression, and was not reddened by the cold as noses are wont to be. Her rich brown hair waved across her forehead as it did on that day when John first saw her; and now as he spoke with her, her mouth smiled, as he had been sure it would. John felt a curious sense of pride in her, in finding that he had not been deceived, that this ideal of whom he had dreamed was really and truly very good to look at. He knew little of the artist's rules of beauty; he had often looked with wonder at the faces in the ill.u.s.trations to Dr. Smith's cla.s.sical dictionary, and had tried to understand where the beauty of them lay, and at Cambridge he had seen and studied with interest many photographs and casts from the antiques. But to his mind the antique would not bear comparison for a moment with Mrs. G.o.ddard, who resembled no engraving nor photograph nor cast he had ever seen.

And she, too, looked at him, and said to herself that he did not look like what she had expected. He looked like a lean, fresh young Englishman of moderate intelligence and in moderate circ.u.mstances. And yet she knew that he was no ordinary young fellow, that he was wonderfully gifted, in fact, and likely to make a mark in the world. She resolved to take a proper interest in him.

"Do you know," she said, "I have heard so much about you, that I feel as though I had met you before, Mr. Short."

"We really have met," said John. "Do you remember that hot day when you came to the vicarage and I waked up Muggins for you?"

"Yes--was that you? You have changed. That is, I suppose I did not see you very well in the hurry."

"I suppose I have changed in two years and a half. I was only a boy then, you know. But how have you heard so much about me?"

"Billingsfield," said Mrs. G.o.ddard with a faint smile, "is not a large place. The Ambroses are very fond of you and always talk of what you are doing."

"And so you really live here, Mrs. G.o.ddard? How long is it since you came? Mr. Ambrose never told me--"

"I have been here more than two years--two years last October," she answered quietly.

"The very year I left--only a month after I was gone. How strange!"

Mrs. G.o.ddard looked up nervously. She was frightened lest John should have made any deductions from the date of her arrival. But John was thinking in a very different train of thought.

"Why is it strange?" she asked.

"Oh, I hardly know," said John in considerable embarra.s.sment. "I was only thinking--about you--that is, about it all."

The answer did not tend to quiet Mrs. G.o.ddard's apprehensions.

"About me?" she exclaimed. "Why should you think about me?"

"It was very foolish, of course," said John. "Only, when I caught sight of you that day I was very much struck. You know, I was only a boy, then.

I hoped you would come back--but you did not." He blushed violently, and then glanced at his companion to see whether she had noticed it.

"No," she said, "I did not come back for some time."

"And then I was gone. Mr. Ambrose never told me you had come."

"Why should he?"

"Oh, I don't know. I think he might. You see Billingsfield has been a sort of home to me, and it is a small place; so I thought he might have told me the news."

"I suppose he thought it would not interest you," said Mrs. G.o.ddard. "I am sure I do not know why it should. But you must be very fond of the place, are you not?"

"Very. As I was saying, it is very like home to me. My father lives in town you know--that is not at all like home. One always a.s.sociates the idea of home with the country, and a vicarage and a Hall, and all that."

"Does one?" said Mrs. G.o.ddard, picking her way over the frozen mud of the road. "Take care, Nellie, it is dreadfully slippery!"

"How much she has grown," remarked John, looking at the girl's active figure as she walked before them. "She was quite a little girl when I saw her first."

"Yes, she grows very fast," answered Mrs. G.o.ddard rather regretfully.

"You say that as though you were sorry."

"I? No. I am glad to see her grow. What a funny remark."

"I thought you spoke sadly," explained John.

"Oh, dear no. Only she is coming to the awkward age."

"She is coming to it very gracefully," said John, who wanted to say something pleasant.

"That is the most any of us can hope to do," answered Mrs. G.o.ddard with a little smile. "We all have our awkward age, I suppose."

"I should not think you could remember yours."

"Why? Do you think it was so very long ago?" Mrs. G.o.ddard laughed.

"No--I cannot believe you ever had any," said John.

The boyish compliment pleased Mrs. G.o.ddard. It was long since any one had flattered her, for flattery did not enter into the squire's system for making himself agreeable.

"Do they teach that sort of thing at Cambridge?" she asked demurely.

"What sort of thing?"

"Making little speeches to ladies," said she.

"No--I wish they did," said John, laughing. "I should know much better how to make them. We learn how to write Greek odes to moral abstractions."

"What a dreadful thing to do!" exclaimed Mrs. G.o.ddard.

"Do you think so? I do not know. Now, for instance, I have written a great many Greek odes to you--"

"To me?" interrupted his companion in surprise.

"Do you think it is so very extraordinary?"

"Very."

"Well--you see--I only saw you once--you won't laugh?"

"No," said Mrs. G.o.ddard, who was very much amused, and was beginning to think that John Short was the most original young man she had ever met.