Christopher had put the nosegay within her fingers. Whatever pleasant
expression of thanks may have appeared in her eyes fell only on the bunch
of flowers, for during the whole transaction they reached to no higher
level than that. To say that he was coming no more seemed scarcely
necessary under the circumstances, and wishing her 'Good afternoon' very
heartily, he passed on.

He had learnt by this time her occupation, which was that of
pupil-teacher at one of the schools in the town, whither she walked daily
from a village near. If he had not been poor and the little teacher
humble, Christopher might possibly have been tempted to inquire more
briskly about her, and who knows how such a pursuit might have ended? But
hard externals rule volatile sentiment, and under these untoward
influences the girl and the book and the truth about its author were
matters upon which he could not afford to expend much time. All
Christopher did was to think now and then of the pretty innocent face and
round deep eyes, not once wondering if the mind which enlivened them ever
thought of him.




3. SANDBOURNE MOOR (continued)


It was one of those hostile days of the year when chatterbox ladies
remain miserably in their homes to save the carriage and harness, when
clerks' wives hate living in lodgings, when vehicles and people appear in
the street with duplicates of themselves underfoot, when bricklayers,
slaters, and other out-door journeymen sit in a shed and drink beer, when