“Yes, what harm was there in that? I met him near the West Lodge for a few minutes the day before yesterday, and I gave him the address I had seen on Miss Churchill’s letter to John Temple, and I asked him to go up to town and find out the truth about this girl. He went the same night, and this is the letter I received from him this morning.”
She handed the squire Henderson’s letter, with a trembling hand as she spoke, and her husband’s hand trembled also as he took it. Then he read the words it contained, and a terribly shocked look came over his face.
“If this be true—” he said, with faltering lips.
“It is true,” answered Mrs. Temple, positively. “Don’t you remember she ran away, and then after a week or so he said he was going abroad? He went no doubt to join her; she was with him all those weeks abroad, and then he must have brought her back to town, and no doubt would have gone up from time to time to see her. The whole thing is perfectly plain.”
“Then in that case all I can say is that it is a shameful affair. Most shameful—but he may have married her—probably has, and if he has not done so, he must.”
Mr. Temple went hastily to the bell of the room and rang it as he spoke, and when the footman answered it, he said sharply and distinctly:
“Ask Mr. John Temple to come here at once; tell him I wish to see him.”
The footman disappeared with his message, and Mrs. Temple stood still. She was excited, pale, and determined, and she did not flinch when she heard John Temple’s step outside the door.
Then he entered and looked at his uncle.
“You wish to see me, Johnson says,” he began, but something in the squire’s face told him it was no ordinary message that he had received.