The Girl's Own Paper, Vol. XX, No. 983, October 29, 1898

By SARAH DOUDNEY.
'OH, YOU RICH MEN!' SHE INTERRUPTED WITH A WEARY SIGH.
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CHAPTER III.
The next day was Sunday. Cardigan, who had learnt from his young hostess all that she could tell of her dressmaker, looked eagerly for Alice's face in the village church. But he could not find her there. She had gone away over the hills to a smaller church, to which the Monteagles never went, and was not to be seen with the Bowers in the seat allotted to the tenants of Swallow's Nest.
He was restless, and longed to secure a little time to himself in the afternoon. Somehow, without being observed, he contrived to slip away, out of the Hall, through the gardens, and then up to that high ground from whence he had first looked down upon the old farm.
There it lay in the still sunshine, asleep in a Sunday peace. He waited there, and watched until he saw the slender, upright figure of a young woman come out of the porch. She went down the little garden-path, opened the wicket, and then sauntered slowly across the grass to the lane.
She was in a very thoughtful mood as she paced deliberately under the shade of the old oaks. The sun, now getting low, burnished the brown hair, wound so simply around her uncovered head. Once she paused to reach a spray of late honeysuckle growing on the top of the hedge, and then stood still to tuck it into the front of her dress. When she moved again and lifted her eyes, she saw Cardigan standing before her under a tree.
Miss Harper, he said, rather awkwardly, it is a great pleasure to see you again. You have been hidden away so long!
I wanted to be hidden, she answered, as she gave him her hand. Is it not very natural that I should hide myself, Mr. Cardigan? My life was darkened; it was best to live it all alone.