Chapter 8

George Gravener didn't follow her, for late in September, after the
House had risen, I met him in a railway-carriage. He was coming up
from Scotland and I had just quitted some relations who lived near
Durham. The current of travel back to London wasn't yet strong; at
any rate on entering the compartment I found he had had it for some
time to himself. We fared in company, and though he had a blue-
book in his lap and the open jaws of his bag threatened me with the
white teeth of confused papers, we inevitably, we even at last
sociably conversed. I saw things weren't well with him, but I
asked no question till something dropped by himself made, as it had
made on another occasion, an absence of curiosity invidious. He
mentioned that he was worried about his good old friend Lady Coxon,
who, with her niece likely to be detained some time in America, lay
seriously ill at Clockborough, much on his mind and on his hands.

"Ah Miss Anvoy's in America?"

"Her father has got into horrid straits--has lost no end of money."

I waited, after expressing due concern, but I eventually said: "I
hope that raises no objection to your marriage."

"None whatever; moreover it's my trade to meet objections. But it
may create tiresome delays, of which there have been too many, from
various causes, already. Lady Coxon got very bad, then she got
much better. Then Mr. Anvoy suddenly began to totter, and now he
seems quite on his back. I'm afraid he's really in for some big
reverse. Lady Coxon's worse again, awfully upset by the news from
America, and she sends me word that she MUST have Ruth. How can I
supply her with Ruth? I haven't got Ruth myself!"

"Surely you haven't lost her?" I returned.

"She's everything to her wretched father. She writes me every
post--telling me to smooth her aunt's pillow. I've other things to
smooth; but the old lady, save for her servants, is really alone.
She won't receive her Coxon relations--she's angry at so much of
her money going to them. Besides, she's hopelessly mad," said
Gravener very frankly.

I don't remember whether it was this, or what it was, that made me
ask if she hadn't such an appreciation of Mrs. Saltram as might
render that active person of some use.

He gave me a cold glance, wanting to know what had put Mrs. Saltram
into my head, and I replied that she was unfortunately never out of
it. I happened to remember the wonderful accounts she had given me
of the kindness Lady Coxon had shown her. Gravener declared this
to be false; Lady Coxon, who didn't care for her, hadn't seen her
three times. The only foundation for it was that Miss Anvoy, who
used, poor girl, to chuck money about in a manner she must now
regret, had for an hour seen in