....
Under the trees it was charming, though many of them were now losing their leaves. Agatha and Dillwyn sat beneath a huge beech, and made sweet plans for their future. It was lovely to be alone, and to be able to say everything that came straight from their hearts without the necessity of whispering. Of course they could not tell that just behind them, kneeling in the shelter of a thick growth of young trees, was a man—a man whose face was the face of a devil at that moment.
They arranged that they should live at Medlands, and they named the day for their wedding. There was nothing to grieve them in old Reginald's death.
"I feel as if I ought to be sorry for him," said he, with a little self-reproach. "But somehow I can feel nothing but that I can claim you now before the world."
"I was yours, whether the world knew it or not," said she.
"I know—I know.... Mrs. Greatorex has written to Darkham?"
"Yes; immediately after you left. He knows by this time that even a question of an engagement is at an end."
The man behind smiled. There was a look on his face as though he were jotting down something in his memory.
Dillwyn looked at his watch, and suddenly sprang to his feet.
"By Jove!" said he, "it's just two."