Chapter 14: On the High Road

All that day nothing happened. Miss Arnott went in the morning to church; in the afternoon for a run on her motor, which had been neglected during the whole period of her absence abroad. She continued in a state of expectation. Before she started for church from everyone who approached her she looked for news; being persuaded that, if there were news of the kind she looked for, it would not be hidden from her long. But, plainly, no one had anything to tell.

Mrs Plummer accompanied her to church. Miss Arnott would rather she had refrained. A conviction was forcing itself upon her that, at the back of Mrs Plummer’s mind, there was something which she was doing her best to keep to herself, but which now and then would peep out in spite of her--something hostile to herself. A disagreeable feeling was growing on her that the lady knew much more about her movements on the previous night than she was willing to admit. How she knew she did not attempt to guess, or even whether the knowledge really amounted to anything more than a surmise. She had an uncomfortable impression that her companion, who was obviously ill at ease, was watching her with a furtive keenness which she intuitively resented.

When they reached the church she was scarcely in a religious mood. She was conscious that her unexpected appearance made a small sensation. Those who knew her smiled at her across the pews. Only servants were in the Oak Dene pew; the master was absent. She wondered if anything had yet transpired; half expecting some allusion to the matter during the course of the sermon. While the vicar preached her thoughts kept wandering to the mossy nook beneath the beech tree. Surely someone must have been there by now, and seen. She would hear all about it after church--at anyrate, when she reached home.

But no, not a word. Nothing had stirred the tranquil country air. One item of information she did receive on her entering the house--Hugh Morice had called. She probably appeared more startled than the occasion seemed to warrant. The fact being that she had forgotten the appointment he had made with her the night before. In any case she would not have expected him to keep it. That he should have done so almost took her breath away. He had merely inquired if she was in; on learning that she was not had gone away. He had left no message.

If she had stayed at home and seen him, what would he have said to her?

That was the question which she kept putting to herself throughout the run on her motor; fitting it not with one answer, but a dozen. There were so many things he might have said, so many he might have left unsaid.

She expected to be greeted with the news when she brought the car to a standstill in front of her own hall door. No; still not a word. Not one during the whole of the evening. A new phase seemed to be developing in Mrs Plummer’s character--she had all at once grown restless, fidgety. Hitherto, if she had had a tendency, it had been to attach herself too closely to her charge. She was disposed to be too conversational. Now, on a sudden, it was all the other way. Unless the girl’s fancy played her a trick she was not only desirous of avoiding her, but when in her society she was taciturn almost to the verge of rudeness. Miss Arnott was anxious neither for her company nor her conversation; but she did not like her apparent unflattering inclination to avoid her altogether.

That night the girl went early to bed. Hardly had she got into her room than she remembered the key; the key of the wardrobe drawer, which, in the small hours of the morning, she had put under her pillow before she got into bed. Until that moment she had forgotten its existence. Now, all at once, it came back to her with a jarring shock. She went to the bed and lifted the pillows--there was nothing there.