But oh, she blessed him for that letter. How deeply must he
love her when he could offer to do this for her sake!
Hark! the children were waiting; she must go and teach. The letter,
Geoffrey's dear letter, could be answered in the afternoon. So she
thrust it in her breast with the other, but closer to her heart, and
went.
That afternoon as Mr. Granger, in a happy frame of mind--for were not
his debts paid, and had he not found a most convenient way of providing
against future embarrassment?--was engaged peaceably in contemplating
his stock over the gate of his little farm buildings, he was much
astonished suddenly to discover Owen Davies at his elbow.
"How do you do, Mr. Davies?" he said; "how quietly you must have come."
"Yes," answered Owen absently. "The fact is, I have followed you because
I want to speak to you alone--quite alone."
"Indeed, Mr. Davies--well, I am at your service. What is wrong? You
don't look very well."
"Oh, I am quite well, thank you. I never was better; and there's nothing
wrong, nothing at all. Everything is going to be bright now, I know that
full surely.
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