'Query, how long will she wait for him (for it is a man to a certainty)?'
resumed the elder of the smokers, at the end of several minutes of
silence, when, full of vacillation and doubt, she became lost to view
behind some bushes. 'Will she reappear?' The smoking went on, and up
she came into open ground as before, and walked by.

'I wonder who the girl is, to come to such a place in this weather? There
she is again,' said the young man called Ladywell.

'Some cottage lass, not yet old enough to make the most of the value set
on her by her follower, small as that appears to be. Now we may get an
idea of the hour named by the fellow for the appointment, for, depend
upon it, the time when she first came--about five minutes ago--was the
time he should have been there. It is now getting on towards five--half-
past four was doubtless the time mentioned.'

'She's not come o' purpose: 'tis her way home from school every day,'
said the waterman.

'An experiment on woman's endurance and patience under neglect. Two to
one against her staying a quarter of an hour.'

'The same odds against her not staying till five would be nearer
probability. What's half-an-hour to a girl in love?'

'On a moorland in wet weather it is thirty perceptible minutes to any
fireside man, woman, or beast in Christendom--minutes that can be felt,
like the Egyptian plague of darkness. Now, little girl, go home: he is
not worth it.'