Page:010 Once a week Volume X Dec 1863 to Jun 64.pdf/616

 The moments flew, however, to no purpose. Nobody came. Eight o’clock struck, and half-past eight struck, and the servants gazed at each other in puzzled wonderment as to what could be the cause of the delay.

Ben, the surgery boy, went out to the front gate, inserted the tips of his boots between the upright iron wires, and stood there taking a little riding recreation on it, which he accomplished by swinging the gate backwards and forwards. There was no troublesome household authority near, either Hannah or Evan, to box his ears and send him off, so he enjoyed his ride as long as he pleased, whistling a popular tune, and keeping his eyes fixed in the direction of the town.

“I say,” cried he, to a butcher-boy of his acquaintance, who passed on his way home from his day’s work, “do you know what makes the train so late to-night?”

“What train?” asked the young butcher, stopping and gazing at Ben.

“The seven train to Great Wennock. It ought to ha’ been in a good hour ago.”

“It is in,” said the boy.

“It isn’t,” responded Ben. “Who says it is?”

“I says it. I see the omnibus come in with my own eyes. Why, it’s on its road back again to take the folks to the nine train.”

Indisputable evidence to Ben’s mind. He jumped off the gate and dashed in-doors, without the ceremony of saying good night to his friend.

“I say, the train’s in; it have been in ever so long,” he cried to Hannah and the others.

“No!” exclaimed Hannah.

“It have, then. Bill Jupp have just told me. He see the omnibus a-coming back at its time with his own eyes.”

“Then something has detained them,” decided Hannah, “and they won’t be here to-night.”

Quite comforting assurance. A whole night’s further holiday! “Let’s have supper,” said Sarah, the additional maid who had been this week engaged by Hannah according to master’s written directions.

“I say, though,” cried Ben, “there’s another train. Bill Jupp, he see the omnibus a-going back again for it.”

“That don’t come from their way, stupid!” corrected Hannah. “The trouble I’ve had, laying out their tea and things in the dining-room, and all to no purpose!” she added crossly.

Of course, their master and mistress not being home to tea or supper, there was all the more reason why they should enjoy theirs. And they were doing so to their hearts’ content, sitting over a well-spread table, at which much laughter prevailed, and rather more noise than is absolutely necessary for digestion, when a loud ring startled them from their security.

“My goodness!” exclaimed Hannah. “If it should be them, after all! What on earth—get along, Evan, and open the door!” Don’t sit staring there like a stuck pig.”

Thus politely urged, Evan sprang out of the kitchen and into the hall. He opened the front door with a swing grand enough to admit a duke, and found himself confronted with nothing but a woman and a bundle.

A large awkward bundle, which appeared to have been put hastily together, and was encased by a thick old shawl to protect it from the rain. The bearer of it was Judith. She passed Evan without ceremony or preface, and dropped the bundle on a chair in the hall.

Why, what’s that?” exclaimed Evan, in surprise, who did not recognise Judith. In fact, he did not know her.

“Can I speak a word to Lady Laura Carlton?” was the answer.

Evan looked at the woman. Hannah, who had come into the hall, looked also; the boy Ben pushed himself forward and took his share of looking.

“I come from Cedar Lodge, from Lady Jane Chesney,” explained Judith, perceiving she was unknown. “These are some of Lady Laura’s things; but her trunks will be sent tomorrow.”

Hannah cast a contemptuous glance at the bundle. She thought it rather an uncerimonious way of forwarding an instalment of a bride’s wardrobe. In truth, Judith felt the same herself, but there was no help for it.

On the day of Laura’s marriage, subsequent to the ceremony, she had written a half-penitent note to Jane for the escapade of which she had been guilty, and stated that the ceremony had taken place. In this was enclosed a wholly penitential letter to her father. The superscriptions “Captain Chesney, R. N.,” and “Miss Chesney,” proved that Laura was in ignorance of the rise in their condition. Jane had forwarded the note to her father to Chesney Oaks, and he had flung it into the fire without reading; her own letter she did not dare to answer, for she had been strictly forbidden to hold further communication of any sort with her offending sister. After the late earl’s funeral, which took place on the Monday, Lord Oakburn returned to Cedar Lodge, and on the Wednesday morning there arrived another letter from Laura to Jane stating that she and Mr. Carlton purposed to be at South Wennock on Wednesday evening, and begging Jane to