“Yes, but Mr. Churchill seemed to think nothing of it, and I have never seen him here since; still, one never can tell.”
“She changed to me from the day he came,” went on Henderson, in a broken voice; “before that she was always pleasant and friendly, if nothing more. If I thought this fellow had induced May to leave her home I would be even with him, that is all.”
“My dear Mr. Henderson, do not speak in that way. We have really nothing to go on regarding Mr. John Temple. As I have told you, I never saw him here except that once, when we came home, and I have no reason to believe she ever met him outside, and he certainly did not run away with her. She went alone for one thing, and for another Mr. John Temple is at present at the Hall; Mr. Churchill saw him when he went to tell the squire of May’s disappearance on the morning when we found she was gone.”
“And what did he say?”
“I don’t think anything particular. Oh, yes, he said May had never said anything to him of her intention of leaving home. No, I think we may leave him out of the question; now what I want to ask you is, is there no one else, do you think, likely? Is there any young farmer about here, or even in a lower class?”
“May never would look at them.”
“That’s what her father said, but one never can tell.”
“I don’t believe it,” answered Henderson, roughly. “No, if it’s anyone, it’s this Temple! He’s a sly, quiet fellow, with a sneer on his face always, and if he’s done any harm to May he had best look to himself. He came between her and me, I know; and he’ll rue the day, I swear it on my soul, if he’s done any wrong to the girl.”
“My dear Mr. Henderson, this is folly,” began Mrs. Churchill.