He drew up in the first bay and awaited the approach of the
sleigh. He saw that it contained visitors for himself, because the
driver, on recognising him, had turned round and spoken to the occupants
of the vehicle. As it came along, the man drew up and nodded to Kenyon,
who, although ordinarily the most polite of men, did not return the
salutation. He was stricken dumb with astonishment on seeing who was in
the sleigh. One woman was so bundled up that not even her nose appeared
out in the cold, but the smiling rosy face of the other needed no
introduction to John Kenyon.
'Well, Mr. Kenyon,' cried a laughing voice, 'you did not expect to see me
this morning, did you?'
'I confess I did not,' said John, 'and yet--.' Here he paused; he was
going to say, 'and yet I was thinking of you,' but he checked himself.
Miss Longworth, who had a talent for reading the unspoken thoughts of
John Kenyon, probably did not need to be told the end of the sentence.
'Are you going to the village?' she asked.
'I _was_ going. I am not going now.'
'That's right. I was just about to invite you to turn round with us. You
see, we are on our way to look at the mine, and, I suppose, we shall have
to obtain the consent of the manager before we can do so.'
Miss Longworth's companion had emerged for a moment from her wraps and
looked at John, but instantly retired among the furs again with a
shiver. She was not so young as her companion, and she considered this
the most frightful climate she had ever encountered.
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