Knowing his mission, the younger man hastened down from the copse and managed to intercept the timber-merchant.
"I have been thinking of this, sir," he said, "and I am of opinion that it would be best to put off your visit for the present." But Melbury would not even stop to hear him.

His mind was made up, the appeal was to be made; and Winterborne stood and watched him sadly till he entered the second plantation and disappeared.
Melbury rang at the tradesmen's door of the manor-house, and was at once informed that the lady was not yet visible, as indeed he might have guessed had he been anybody but the man he was.

Melbury said he would wait, whereupon the young man informed him in a neighborly way that, between themselves, she was in bed and asleep.
"Never mind," said Melbury, retreating into the court, "I'll stand about here." Charged so fully with his mission, he shrank from contact with anybody.
But he walked about the paved court till he was tired, and still nobody came to him.

At last he entered the house and sat down in a small waiting-room, from which he got glimpses of the kitchen corridor, and of the white-capped maids flitting jauntily hither and thither.

They had heard of his arrival, but had not seen him enter, and, imagining him still in the court, discussed freely the possible reason of his calling.