And so forth. They had once more got on to the subject of sailors and officers, regarded from their different points of view; and it was not until they had reached Brighton that the sight of Lewes Crescent reminded Nan that she had now to part from her companion and go in search of mutton bones for the thrushes and blackbirds.
Not only was she successful in this work of charity, but she must needs also institute a similar system of outdoor relief at her own end of the town; so that it was nearly dusk when she re-entered the house in Brunswick Terrace. She did not think of asking if there were any visitors; she went upstairs; perceived that the drawing-room door was an inch or two open, and was just about to enter when she heard voices. Inadvertently she paused.
It was Mr. Jacomb's voice. Then her mother said--
'I married happily myself, and I have never tried to influence my daughters----'
Nan shrank back, like a guilty thing. She had only listened to discover whether it was some one she knew who had called; but these few words of her mother's made her heart jump. She stole away noiselessly to her own room. She sat down, anxious and agitated, fearing she scarcely knew what.
She was not long left in suspense. Her mother came into the room and shut the door.
'I thought I heard you come in, Nan,' she said; 'and it's lucky you have, for Mr. Jacomb is here.'
'But I don't want to see Mr. Jacomb, mamma,' she said, breathlessly.
'He wants to see you,' her mother said, quietly; 'and I suppose you know what it is about.'
'I--I suppose so--yes, I can guess----. Oh, mother, dear!' cried Nan, going and clinging to her mother. 'Do me this great kindness! I can't see him. I don't want to see him. Mother, you will go and speak to him for me!'
'Well, that is extraordinary,' said Lady Beresford, who, however, had far too great a respect for her nerves to become excited over this matter or anything else. 'That's a strange request. I have just told him I would not interfere. Of course I don't consider it a good match; you might do a great deal better from a worldly point of view. But you have always been peculiar, Nan. If you think it would be for your happiness to become a poor clergyman's wife, I will not oppose it. At the same time, I have always thought you might do better----'