English
‘Andsoyouareresolvedtobemytravellingcompanionthismorning;eh?’
saidthedoctor,asHarryMayliejoinedhimandOliveratthebreakfast-table.
‘Why,youarenotinthesamemindorintentiontwohalf-hourstogether!’
‘Youwilltellmeadifferenttaleoneofthesedays,’saidHarry,colouringwithoutanyperceptiblereason.
‘IhopeImayhavegoodcausetodoso,’repliedMr.Losberne;‘thoughIconfessIdon’tthinkIshall.
Butyesterdaymorningyouhadmadeupyourmind,inagreathurry,tostayhere,andtoaccompanyyourmother,likeadutifulson,tothesea-side.
Beforenoon,youannouncethatyouaregoingtodomethehonourofaccompanyingmeasfarasIgo,onyourroadtoLondon.
Andatnight,youurgeme,withgreatmystery,tostartbeforetheladiesarestirring;theconsequenceofwhichis,thatyoungOliverhereispinneddowntohisbreakfastwhenheoughttoberangingthemeadowsafterbotanicalphenomenaofallkinds.Toobad,isn’tit,Oliver?’
‘IshouldhavebeenverysorrynottohavebeenathomewhenyouandMr.Mayliewentaway,sir,’rejoinedOliver.
‘That’safinefellow,’saidthedoctor;‘youshallcomeandseemewhenyoureturn.
But,tospeakseriously,Harry;hasanycommunicationfromthegreatnobsproducedthissuddenanxietyonyourparttobegone?’
‘Thegreatnobs,’repliedHarry,‘underwhichdesignation,Ipresume,youincludemymoststatelyuncle,havenotcommunicatedwithmeatall,sinceIhavebeenhere;nor,atthistimeoftheyear,isitlikelythatanythingwouldoccurtorendernecessarymyimmediateattendanceamongthem.’
‘Well,’saidthedoctor,‘youareaqueerfellow.
ButofcoursetheywillgetyouintoparliamentattheelectionbeforeChristmas,andthesesuddenshiftingsandchangesarenobadpreparationforpoliticallife.There’ssomethinginthat.
Goodtrainingisalwaysdesirable,whethertheracebeforplace,cup,orsweepstakes.’
HarryMaylielookedasifhecouldhavefollowedupthisshortdialoguebyoneortworemarksthatwouldhavestaggeredthedoctornotalittle;buthecontentedhimselfwithsaying,‘Weshallsee,’andpursuedthesubjectnofarther.
Thepost-chaisedroveuptothedoorshortlyafterwards;andGilescominginfortheluggage,thegooddoctorbustledout,toseeitpacked.
‘Oliver,’saidHarryMaylie,inalowvoice,‘letmespeakawordwithyou.’
Oliverwalkedintothewindow-recesstowhichMr.Mayliebeckonedhim;muchsurprisedatthemixtureofsadnessandboisterousspirits,whichhiswholebehaviourdisplayed.
‘Youcanwritewellnow?’saidHarry,layinghishanduponhisarm.
‘Ihopeso,sir,’repliedOliver.
‘Ishallnotbeathomeagain,perhapsforsometime;Iwishyouwouldwritetome—sayonceafort-night:everyalternateMonday:totheGeneralPostOfficeinLondon.Willyou?’
‘Oh!certainly,sir;Ishallbeproudtodoit,’exclaimedOliver,greatlydelightedwiththecommission.
‘Ishouldliketoknowhow—howmymotherandMissMaylieare,’saidtheyoungman;‘andyoucanfillupasheetbytellingmewhatwalksyoutake,andwhatyoutalkabout,andwhethershe—they,Imean—seemhappyandquitewell.Youunderstandme?’
‘Oh!quite,sir,quite,’repliedOliver.
‘Iwouldratheryoudidnotmentionittothem,’saidHarry,hurryingoverhiswords;‘becauseitmightmakemymotheranxioustowritetomeoftener,anditisatroubleandworrytoher.
Letitbeasecretbetweenyouandme;andmindyoutellmeeverything!Idependuponyou.’
Oliver,quiteelatedandhonouredbyasenseofhisimportance,faithfullypromisedtobesecretandexplicitinhiscommunications.
Mr.Maylietookleaveofhim,withmanyassurancesofhisregardandprotection.
Thedoctorwasinthechaise;Giles(who,ithadbeenarranged,shouldbeleftbehind)heldthedooropeninhishand;andthewomen-servantswereinthegarden,lookingon.
Harrycastoneslightglanceatthelatticedwindow,andjumpedintothecarriage.
‘Driveon!’hecried,‘hard,fast,fullgallop!Nothingshortofflyingwillkeeppacewithme,to-day.’
‘Halloa!’criedthedoctor,lettingdownthefrontglassinagreathurry,andshoutingtothepostillion;‘somethingveryshortofflyingwillkeeppacewithme.Doyouhear?’
Jinglingandclattering,tilldistancerendereditsnoiseinaudible,anditsrapidprogressonlyperceptibletotheeye,thevehiclewounditswayalongtheroad,almosthiddeninacloudofdust:nowwhollydisappearing,andnowbecomingvisibleagain,asinterveningobjects,ortheintricaciesoftheway,permitted.
Itwasnotuntileventhedustycloudwasnolongertobeseen,thatthegazersdispersed.
Andtherewasonelooker-on,whoremainedwitheyesfixeduponthespotwherethecarriagehaddisappeared,longafteritwasmanymilesaway;for,behindthewhitecurtainwhichhadshroudedherfromviewwhenHarryraisedhiseyestowardsthewindow,satRoseherself.
‘Heseemsinhighspiritsandhappy,’shesaid,atlength.‘Ifearedforatimehemightbeotherwise.Iwasmistaken.Iamvery,veryglad.’
Tearsaresignsofgladnessaswellasgrief;butthosewhichcourseddownRose’sface,asshesatpensivelyatthewindow,stillgazinginthesamedirection,seemedtotellmoreofsorrowthanofjoy.
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