John Temple had watched this meeting, and fully appreciated it. Mr. Churchill was busy talking to one of the jurymen, a neighbor, and John once more speedily found himself at May’s side.
“Let us go outside,” he said, and May went. They stood talking together until Mr. Churchill joined them, and Mr. Churchill spoke very cordially to John.
“I want you to come over to Woodside again, Mr. Temple, and try the mare before I send her to the Hall stables,” he said. “When will it be convenient for you to do so? This afternoon?”
“Yes; that will suit me very well,” answered John; and while a few moments later her father went to see after his trap, John had a word to half-whisper into May’s willing ears.
“I will see you again, then,” he said, and May smiled her answer, and as her father drove her back to Woodside, John Temple’s words and looks recurred again and again to her mind.
As for John, he walked back to the Hall, thinking only of her.
“She is the dearest little girl,” he told himself, and he wished the afternoon were already come. But he found when he arrived at his uncle’s house that he was eagerly awaited for, and that he was expected to give a complete account of all that had taken place during the inquest.
The news of Elsie Wray’s tragic death had indeed created an immense sensation in the neighborhood. Young Henderson of Stourton Grange was so well known, and had frequently visited at Woodlea Hall, and when John Temple entered the dining-room he found both Mrs. Temple and her mother, Mrs. Layton, eagerly talking of him.
“Well, here you are at last,” said Mrs. Temple. “Now come and tell us all about it, and what had Tom Henderson to do with it?”
“A good deal, I fear,” answered John, seating himself at the luncheon table.