In a few days her letter was returned.
"Not known," said Valmai; "then we have not read the address aright. I
will go myself, Nance. I will go next week." And the following days
were occupied with arrangements for her departure and Nance's comfort
during her absence.
On one of these latter days Mr. Francis came in.
"I am glad you have come to-day," said Valmai, holding out her hand.
"I wanted to thank you before I left for all your kindness to me, and
to ask you to continue to see Nance sometimes."
"Are you going to leave us, then?" said the young man, in a
disappointed tone.
He had felt deeply interested in the girl who bore her desertion and
sorrow with such patience, and had unconsciously been looking forward
to a continuance of the friendship begun between them.
"You are not going away for long, I hope?"
"Yes, for long; possibly for ever, except for a hasty visit to Nance
sometimes I shall trust her to you, Mr. Francis, and I hope you will
be as kind to her as you have been to me."
"Certainly I will; but do not talk of kindness. It has been a great
privilege to me, and a pleasure to know you, and I hope in the future
if I can be of any service to you, you will let me know."
Valmai took out her purse nervously, she hesitated to speak of
remuneration to this kind friend.
"You are not going to wound me," he said, gently laying his hand on her
purse, "by offering to pay me?"
"No, no," said Valmai; "only for the future, for your care of Nance."
"There will be nothing much to do for her, I think; just a call in
passing and a few cheering words, and they don't cost much." And he
rose to go.
"Good-bye, then," said Valmai. "I shall never forget your kindness."
"Good-bye," said Mr. Francis, holding her hand for a moment. He seemed
about to say something more, but changed his mind, and abruptly left
the house.
The next day was Valmai's last in Nance's cottage. She rose early,
and, after her simple breakfast, put on her white hat, and, kissing the
old woman tenderly, said: "I am going out for a few hours; there are one or two people I want to
see--Peggi Bullet, and Shôn, the sexton. Then I am going to cross the
Rock Bridge."
She did not tell Nance that her chief object was to pay a last visit to
her old haunts by the Berwen. After making all arrangements with Peggi
Bullet and Shôn, she took her way across the bridge. The year that had
passed since Cardo had left her, with its varied experiences and
trials, the bitter sense of loneliness and desertion, the pains and the
delights of motherhood, the desolation and sorrow of bereavement, all
had worked a change in the simple girl's character, that now surprised
even herself, and she thankfully realised that her troubles had at all
events generated a strength which enabled her to act for herself and
attend to matters of business which had before been unapproachable
mysteries to her. She shrank a little as she met the bold, admiring
gaze of a knot of sailors, who stood at the door of the Ship Inn, where
she explained to the buxom landlady that she wanted the car to meet her
at the Rock Bridge on the following morning at ten.