“Is yours,” suggested Bella.
“No. Most clearly and distinctly yours.”
So the interview terminated with pleasant words on both sides, and with many reminders on the part of Bella that they were friends, and pledges that she would soon come down into that part of the country again. There with Lizzie returned to her occupation, and Bella ran over to the little inn to rejoin her company.
“You look rather serious, Miss Wilfer,” was the Secretary’s first remark.
“I feel rather serious,” returned Miss Wilfer.
She had nothing else to tell him but that Lizzie Hexam’s secret had no reference whatever to the cruel charge, or its withdrawal. Oh yes though! said Bella; she might as well mention one other thing; Lizzie was very desirous to thank her unknown friend who had sent her the written retractation. Was she, indeed? observed the Secretary. Ah! Bella asked him, had he any notion who that unknown friend might be? He had no notion whatever.
They were on the borders of Oxfordshire, so far had poor old Betty Higden strayed. They were to return by the train presently, and, the station being near at hand, the Reverend Frank and Mrs. Frank, and Sloppy and Bella and the Secretary, set out to walk to it. Few rustic paths are wide enough for five, and Bella and the Secretary dropped behind.
“Can you believe, Mr. Rokesmith,” said Bella, “that I feel as if whole years had passed since I went into Lizzie Hexam’s cottage?”
“We have crowded a good deal into the day,” he returned, “and you were much affected in the churchyard. You are overtired.”