Tatham afterward devoted himself till nearly midnight to composing a
letter to Lydia. He had unaccountably missed her that afternoon, for when
he arrived at the cottage from Pengarth she was out, and neither Mrs.
Penfold nor Susy knew where she was. In fact she was at Mainstairs, and
with Faversham. She had mistaken a phrase in Tatham's note of the
morning, and did not expect him till later. He had waited an hour for
her, under the soft patter of Mrs. Penfold's embarrassed conversation;
and had then ridden home, sorely disappointed, but never for one instant
blaming the beloved.
But later, in the night silence, he poured out to her all his budget: the
arrival of the Melroses; their story; his interview with Faversham; and
his plans for helping them to their rights. To a "friend" it was only
allowed, besides, to give restrained expression to his rapturous joy in
being near her again, and his disappointment of the afternoon. He thought
over every word, as he wrote it down, his eyes sometimes a little dim in
the lamp-light. The very reserve imposed upon him did but strengthen his
passion. Nor could young hopes believe in ultimate defeat.
At the same time, the thought of Faversham held the background of his
mind. Though by now he himself cordially disliked Faversham, he was quite
aware of the attraction the new agent's proud and melancholy personality
might have for women. He had seen it working in Lydia's case, and he had
been uncomfortably aware at one time of the frequent references to
Faversham in Lydia's letters.
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