"Lord Hope!"
For a moment the two men stood face to face. They had changed since their last parting; still that was but dimly seen in the light of a young moon, which was rising over the trees as the rich crimson faded away.
Hepworth saw that all the wild passion of those times had died out of that face, leaving it calm and hard; but other change was concealed by the silvery quiver of light that fell upon it through the leaves.
Hepworth was the first to speak.
"My lord, you have received my letter, I trust?"
"Yes—and came at once to answer it."
"By your tone, by your manner, I should fear—"
"While this young lady is by, we will not speak of your fears," said the earl, with a slow motion of the hand. "Clara, you will find your—Lady Hope. She will, perhaps, be glad to hear that I have returned."
"Not while you meet me and—and Hepworth in this fashion, papa. I don't like it. One would think you intended to make trouble."
"Foolish child! Go as I tell you."