'Is Lady Constantine at home?' asked Swithin, with a disingenuousness now
habitual, yet unknown to him six months before.
'No, Mr. St. Cleeve; my lady has not returned from Bath. We expect her
every day.' 'Nobody staying in the house?' 'My lady's brother has been here; but he is gone on to Budmouth. He will
come again in two or three weeks, I understand.' This was enough. Swithin said he would call again, and returned to the
cabin, where, waking Viviette, who was not by nature an early riser, he
waited on the column till she was ready to breakfast. When this had been
shared they prepared to start.
A long walk was before them. Warborne station lay five miles distant,
and the next station above that nine miles. They were bound for the
latter; their plan being that she should there take the train to the
junction where the whip accident had occurred, claim her luggage, and
return with it to Warborne, as if from Bath.
The morning was cool and the walk not wearisome. When once they had left
behind the stubble-field of their environment and the parish of Welland,
they sauntered on comfortably, Lady Constantine's spirits rising as she
withdrew further from danger.
They parted by a little brook, about half a mile from the station;
Swithin to return to Welland by the way he had come.
Lady Constantine telegraphed from the junction to Warborne for a carriage
to be in readiness to meet her on her arrival; and then, waiting for the
down train, she travelled smoothly home, reaching Welland House about
five minutes sooner than Swithin reached the column hard by, after
footing it all the way from where they had parted.