And once more he
found Nesta alone, and though he had no spice of vanity in his
composition it seemed to him that she was glad when he walked into the
room in which they had first met.
"My mother is out--gone to town--to the mill," she said. "And Harper is
knocking around the park with a gun--killing rabbits--and time. He'll be
in presently to tea--and he'll be delighted to see you. Are you going to
stay in Barford much longer?"
"I'm going up to town this evening--seven o'clock train," answered
Collingwood, watching her keenly. "All my business is finished now--for
the present."
"But--you'll be coming back?" she asked.
"Perhaps," he said. "I may come back--after a while."
"When you do come back," she went on, a little hurriedly, "will you come
and see us again? I--it's difficult to explain--but I do wish Harper
knew more men--the right sort of men. Do you understand?"
"You mean--he needs more company?"
"More company of the right kind. He doesn't know many nice men. And he
has so little to occupy him. He's no head for business--my mother
attends to all that--and he doesn't care much about sport--and when he
goes into Barford he only hangs about the club, and, I'm afraid, at two
or three of the hotels there, and--it's not good for him."
"Can't you get him interested in anything?" suggested Collingwood. "Is
there nothing that he cares about?"
"He never did care about anything," replied Nesta with a sigh.
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