“After all he had a right to choose a woman he liked best,” she thought; “but it is a terrible mistake. A man who marries a woman of inferior birth and position always repents it—and with such relations!”
After awhile, however, she pulled herself together, and went down-stairs, and when she entered the library she found the village doctor there, as well as her husband and Mr. Churchill.
Henderson was lying on the couch ghastly pale, with a handkerchief bound around his head, and still insensible, and the doctor was bending over him holding his wrist.
Then when the squire saw his wife, he stepped back toward her and half-whispered in her ear:
“Where is John Temple?” he said.
“He is gone,” she answered, “and he says he will never return.”
Mr. Temple upon this beckoned to Mr. Churchill.
“Mrs. Temple says my nephew has left the house, Mr. Churchill,” he said.
“Then I’ll follow him,” answered the farmer, sturdily; “you have told me, squire, that if he has not already done my girl justice that you wish him and authorize him to do so?”
“Most certainly,” replied Mr. Temple; “I am ready and wishful to receive your daughter as his wife.”