“Perhaps I have good cause,” she retorted, with such marked emphasis that John Temple felt somewhat uneasy.
“I hope not,” he replied; “I have always done my best to avoid offending you.”
Mrs. Temple deigned to make no reply. She gave a little toss of her head and walked on her way, and John went his, reflecting what a sad thing it was for a woman to have a bad temper!
And all the rest of the day it was the same thing. When Mrs. Temple spoke to him at all, it was either in taunting or bitter words. Her husband even noticed this, and asked why she spoke thus to his nephew.
“You will soon learn,” she answered, and the squire said nothing more. He was accustomed to the changeful temper of his handsome wife, but all the same he was sorry that her manner had changed to John Temple.
And the next morning, at breakfast, John noticed how restless she was. There was some disturbing element in her mind he plainly saw, though he had no idea it was caused by himself. He had, as we know, his own anxieties and troubles, but he never dreamed of Mrs. Temple’s being connected with them.
In the meantime at Stourton Grange her letter had caused the strongest excitement in young Henderson’s breast, for she had discovered something about May Churchill, he told himself; something connected with Temple, no doubt. He waited impatiently until the time she had appointed to meet him came, and then walked to the lane that led to the West Lodge at Woodlea Hall. Here he waited nearly half an hour before Mrs. Temple appeared. At last, however, he saw her, and went eagerly forward to meet her.
“You got my letter?” said Mrs. Temple, as she shook hands with him.
“Yes, this morning,” answered Henderson, quickly, and his brown face flushed as he spoke. “You have something to tell me?”