Chapter 37 Chapter Thirty-Six

(This chapter is very short, and it seems insignificant in isolation, but as a continuation of the previous chapter, and as a foreshadowing of a chapter that readers will read by then, it should be read.) "So you've decided to come with me this morning, eh?" asked the Doctor, as Harry Maylie came up to the table, and joined him and Oliver to breakfast. "Why, your mood or plan is different in the first half hour and the second half hour." "At least one day, you'll change your mind." Harry said, blushing for no reason. "I hope I will," replied Mr. Rosbery, "but I admit I'm afraid I can't. But yesterday morning you made a hasty decision to stay, like a dutiful son, to accompany your mother to the seaside. Before noon, you announced that you would accompany me to London by the way, and you did me such a big favor. In the evening, you mysteriously encouraged me to leave before the ladies got up. As a result, little Oliver has Pinned up here for breakfast, he should have gone out to the pastures and looked for all kinds of exotic plants. Too bad, isn't it, Oliver?"

"I should be very sorry, sir, if I were not at home when you set off with Mr. Maylie," replied Oliver. "That's friendship enough," said the doctor, "and you'll have to come and see me when you get back. But seriously, Harry, is there any news from the great man that you're in such a hurry to go?" "Big Man," Harry replied, "under that title, I'm afraid you're including my very respectable old man. The Big One hasn't contacted me at all since I've been here, and this time of year It seems unlikely that something will happen at the time, and I must rush to them."

"Well," said the doctor, "you're a queer fellow. But then again, they might put you in Parliament at the election before Christmas, and your blah blah blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. There's a grain of truth to that. Whether it's for status, titles, or betting on the races, discipline is always needed." Harry Maylie looked as if he had no intention of continuing this short conversation, otherwise he could have choked the doctor with a sentence or two. go down.After a while, the stagecoach drove up to the gate, and Kyles came in to get the luggage, and the kind doctor ran outside to see if the luggage was tied securely.

"Oliver," said Harry in a low voice, "I have a word with you." Oliver went up to Mr. Maylie, who stood at the window and greeted him, and was startled at the mixture of sorrow and excitement which he expressed in his whole countenance. "You can write now, don't you?" Harry put a hand on his shoulder. "I am afraid so, sir," replied Oliver. "I'm going out again, maybe for a while. I'd like you to write to me—let's say once a fortnight. Every other Monday, to the London Post Office. Will you?" "Oh. It goes without saying, sir, that I am glad to do it," cried Oliver, very pleased with the mission.

"I want to know--know if my mother and Miss Ruth are well," said the young gentleman, "you can fill a sheet of paper and tell me how you walked, what you talked about--she Don't—I mean them—look very happy, very healthy. You know what I mean?" "Oh, yes, sir, perfectly," replied Oliver. "You don't mention it to them," said Harry hastily, "because then my mother will be anxious to write to me more often, and it will be a nuisance and a worry to her. .It's a secret between you and me, don't forget to tell me everything. It's all up to you."

Oliver, somewhat flattered and flattered at the realization of his own importance, pledged with all sincerity to keep his mouth shut and to tell the truth.Mr. Maylai bid him farewell, and repeatedly promised to take care of him and protect him. The doctor got into the carriage.Kels stood aside with his hands on the open car door (it had been arranged, he took a step back).Two maids watched them from the garden.Harry stole a glance at the latticed window and jumped into the carriage. "Go!" he yelled, "hard, fast, as fast as I can! The only thing I care about today is flying."

"Hey, hello." The doctor hurriedly put down the glass in front of him, and yelled at the coachman, "Don't drive too fast, that's what I like, you hear me?" The tinkling of bells and the clattering of hooves, the stage-coach moved farther along the road, and the sound was gradually lost, and only the carriage was seen speeding along, almost lost in the flying dust, sometimes disappearing altogether, and sometimes reappearing, it depended. Whether the line of sight is obstructed or the road conditions are complicated.It wasn't until the puff of smoke was no longer visible, that the people who watched each other dispersed separately.

The stagecoach had driven away for several miles, but there was still a person who saw him off still staring at the place where the stagecoach disappeared.It turned out that when Harry looked up at the window, Rose herself was sitting behind the white curtain that blocked Harry's view. "He seemed very happy," she said at last. "I wondered for a moment what would happen to him. I was wrong. I'm very, very happy." Tears are a sign of sorrow as well as a sign of joy.But when Ruth sat by the window in thought, her eyes still fixed in the same direction, the tears rolling down her face seemed more sorrowful than joyful.