"Pull round the settle, Giles," said the timber-merchant, as soon as
they were within. "I should like to have a serious talk with you."
Thereupon he put the case to Winterborne frankly, and in quite a
friendly way. He declared that he did not like to be hard on a man
when he was in difficulty; but he really did not see how Winterborne
could marry his daughter now, without even a house to take her to.
Giles quite acquiesced in the awkwardness of his situation. But from a
momentary feeling that he would like to know Grace's mind from her own
lips, he did not speak out positively there and then. He accordingly
departed somewhat abruptly, and went home to consider whether he would
seek to bring about a meeting with her.
In the evening, while he sat quietly pondering, he fancied that he
heard a scraping on the wall outside his house. The boughs of a
monthly rose which grew there made such a noise sometimes, but as no
wind was stirring he knew that it could not be the rose-tree. He took
up the candle and went out. Nobody was near. As he turned, the light
flickered on the whitewashed rough case of the front, and he saw words
written thereon in charcoal, which he read as follows: "O Giles, you've lost your dwelling-place,
And therefore, Giles, you'll lose your Grace."
Giles went in-doors. He had his suspicions as to the scrawler of those
lines, but he could not be sure. What suddenly filled his heart far
more than curiosity about their authorship was a terrible belief that
they were turning out to be true, try to see Grace as he might. They
decided the question for him. He sat down and wrote a formal note to
Melbury, in which he briefly stated that he was placed in such a
position as to make him share to the full Melbury's view of his own and
his daughter's promise, made some years before; to wish that it should
be considered as cancelled, and they themselves quite released from any
obligation on account of it.
Having fastened up this their plenary absolution, he determined to get
it out of his hands and have done with it; to which end he went off to
Melbury's at once. It was now so late that the family had all retired;
he crept up to the house, thrust the note under the door, and stole
away as silently as he had come.
Melbury himself was the first to rise the next morning, and when he had
read the letter his relief was great. "Very honorable of Giles, very
honorable," he kept saying to himself. "I shall not forget him. Now
to keep her up to her own true level."