It is but justice to Thomas Worboise to mention that he made no
opportunities of going to his "governor's" house after this. But the
relations of the families rendered it impossible for him to avoid
seeing Mary Boxall sometimes. Nor did he make any great effort to
evade each meetings: and it must be confessed that it was not without
a glow of inward satisfaction that he saw her confusion and the rosy
tinge that spread over her face and deepened the color of her eyes
when they thus happened to meet. For Mary was a soft-hearted and too
impressible girl. "I never said anything to her," were the words with
which he would now and then apply an unction to his soul, compounded
of self-justification and self-flattery. But he could not keep an
outward appearance of coolness correspondent to the real coldness of
his selfish heart, and the confusion which was only a dim reflection of
her own was sufficient to make poor Mary suppose that feelings similar
to her own were at work in the mind of the handsome youth. Why he did
not _say_ anything to her had not yet begun to trouble her, and her
love was as yet satisfied with the ethereal luxuries of dreaming and
castle-building.
It had been arranged between Amy Worboise and the Boxall girls, that if
Christmas Day were fine, they would persuade their fathers to go with
them to Hampstead Heath in the morning. How much of this arrangement
was owing to sly suggestion on the part of Mary in the hope of seeing
Tom, I do not know. I believe Jane contrived that Charles Wither should
have a hint of the possibility. It is enough that the plan was accepted
by the parents, and that the two families, with the exception of Mrs.
Boxall, who could not commit the care of the Christmas dinner to the
servants, and the invalid Mrs. Worboise, who, indeed, would always
have preferred the chance of a visit from Mr. Simon to the certainty
of sunshine and extended prospect, found themselves, after morning
service, on the platform of the Highbury railway station, whence they
soon reached Hampstead.
The walk from the station, up the hill to the top of the heath, was
delightful. It was a clear day, the sun shining overhead, and the
ground sparkling with frost under their feet. The keen, healthy air
brought color to the cheeks and light to the eyes of all the party,
possibly with the sole exception of Mr. Worboise, who, able to walk
uncovered in the keenest weather, was equally impervious to all the
gentler influences of Nature. He could not be said to be a disbeliever
in Nature, for he had not the smallest idea that she had any existence
beyond an allegorical one. What he did believe in was the law, meaning
by that neither the Mosaic nor the Christian, neither the law of love
nor the law of right, but the law of England as practiced in her courts
of justice. Therefore he was not a very interesting person to spend
a Christmas morning with, and he and Mr. Boxall, who was equally a
believer in commerce, were left to entertain each other.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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