He took a long, unhappy walk up into the Park, and then he walked back to the Walholland. By this time he thought Mrs. Rock and Miss Hernshaw must have been to church, but he had not the courage to send up his name to them. He waited about in the region of the dining-room, in the senseless hope that it would be better for him to surprise them on their way to luncheon, and trust to some chance for introducing his confession, than to seek a direct interview with Miss Hernshaw. But they did not come to luncheon, and then Hewson had the clerk send up his card. Word came back that the ladies would see him, and he followed the messenger to Mrs. Rock’s apartment, where if he was surprised, he was not disappointed to be received by Miss Hernshaw alone.
“Mrs. Rock is lying down,” she explained, “but I thought that it might be something important, and you would not mind seeing me.”
“Not at all,” said Hewson, with what seemed to him afterwards superfluous politeness, and then they both waited until he could formulate his business, Miss Hernshaw drooping forward, and looking down in a way that he had found was most characteristic of her. “It _is_ something important--at least it is important to me. Miss Hernshaw, may I ask whether you have done anything--it seems a very unwarrantable question--about St. Johnswort?”
“Yes. It will be useless to make any offer for it.”
“Because--because I have bought it myself.”
“Yes; when he came to me last night, and made those representations--Well, in short, I have bought the place.”
“To save him from losing money by that--story?”
“Well--yes. I ought to have told you the fact this morning, as soon as you said you would buy the place. I know that you like people to be perfectly truthful. But--I couldn’t--without seeming to--brag.”
“I took the risk of your writing to St. John; but then I realized that if he answered and told you what I ought to have told you myself, it would make it worse, and I came back.”
“I don’t know whether it would have made it worse; but you have come too late,” said Miss Hernshaw. “I’ve just written to Mr. St. John.”
They were both silent for what Hewson thought a long time. At the end of it, he asked, “Did you--you must excuse me--refer to me at all?”