ne cannot help thinking the inmates must sleep
sounder than anywhere else. Here, as it was very near, they were in the
habit of attending, and Chatty, though she was not a great musician,
played the organ, as so many young ladies in country places do. When
the little green curtain that veiled the organ loft was drawn aside
for a moment Dick had a glimpse of her, looking out her music before she
began, with a chubby-faced boy who was to "blow" for her at her hand:
and this foolish lover thought of Luca della Robbia's friezes, and
the white vision of Florentine singers and players on the lute. The
puffy-cheeked boy was just like one of those sturdy Tuscan urchins, but
the maiden was of finer ware, like a madonna. So Dick thought: although
Chatty had never called forth such fine imaginations before. They all
walked home together very peacefully in a tender quiet, which lasted
until the Eustace Thynnes came back with their remarks upon everybody.
And in the afternoon Dick told Mrs. Warrender that he must go over and
see Wilberforce at Underwood. There were various things he had to talk
to Wilberforce about, and he would be back to dinner, which was late
on Sunday to leave time for the evening church-going. Chatty had her
Sunday-school, so it was as well for him to go. He set out walking,
having first engaged the people at the Plough Inn to send a dog-cart
to bring him back. It was a very quiet unexciting road, rather dusty,
with here and there a break through the fields. His mind was full of a
hundred things to think of; his business was not with Wilberforce, but
with Lizzie Hampson, whom he must see, and ask--what was he to ask? He
could scarcely make out to himself. But she was the sole custodian of
this secret, and he must know how she could be silenced, or if it would
be necessary to silence her, to keep her from interfering. The walk,
though it was six long miles, was not long enough for him to decide what
he should say. He went round the longest way, passing the Elms in order
to see if the house was still empty, with a chill terror in his heart of
seeing some trace of those inhabitants whose presence had been an insult
to him. But all was shut up, cold and silent; he knew that they were
gone, and yet it was a relief to him when he saw with his eyes that this
was so. Then he paused and looked down the little path opening by a
rustic gate into the wood, which led to the Warren. It was a footpath
free to the villagers, and