Tom to
wait any longer."
Rhoda looked at the clock in some alarm. She had not been conscious of the
lapse of time. "I don't think Miss Rosie meant to stop anywhere, Wilmot.
But they ought to be home. I hope nothing has happened."
At that moment Tom entered the room. "It is getting very late," he said to
Rhoda. "How long did Jones mean to take to put that shoe right? Not very
long, surely."
"Miss Merivale thought they would be at home by six o'clock," Rhoda
answered.
"And it is seven now," Tom said, glancing at the clock. "It will be dark
in half an hour. They were coming by the high road all the way, didn't you
say?"
"Yes; Miss Smythe did not want to go up the lane. But the high road is not
very much longer, is it, Mr. Merivale?"
"About two miles longer. But it is a better road. They ought to be home by
this time."
Rhoda was standing by the window, and he came to her side and looked out.
He carefully avoided glancing at her, yet he knew that her face was very
proud and cold.
"I think I will go down the road to meet them," he said. His voice shook a
little. It was very hard--it was almost harder than he could bear--to let
her go on misunderstanding him. Yet how could he explain?
"I wish they would come home," Rhoda answered. "Do go and meet them, Mr.
Merivale. Miss Smythe wanted to drive, and I do not trust her driving.
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