“Ask Mr. John Temple kindly to come to the library for a few minutes.”
The footman bowed and disappeared, and a few moments of uncomfortable silence passed between the squire and his tenant. The squire was remembering his advice to John on the subject of May Churchill; her father seeing the two together in the moonlit garden.
Then John Temple appeared, calm, assured, and a little pale.
He shook hands with Mr. Churchill, and then looked at him inquiringly.
“John,” said the squire, as the farmer hesitated, “Mr. Churchill has called here about his daughter; it seems that the young lady disappeared from her home yesterday in the absence of Mr. and Mrs. Churchill, and as you were a good deal thrown with her about that unfortunate affair at Fern Dene, Mr. Churchill wishes to know if she ever gave you any hint regarding her intention of leaving her home?”
“Yes, Mr. John, that’s just it; just as the squire says,” put in Mr. Churchill, eagerly.
“Certainly not,” replied John Temple, calmly. “I was, as you say, a good deal thrown with Miss Churchill regarding that unfortunate affair, but she never mentioned anything whatever to me about leaving her home.”
“And she made no complaints?” asked Mr. Churchill.
“None. I think she once said she disliked that young Henderson very much; that was at the inquest.”
“And when did you last see her, Mr. John?”