Aldyth smiled; but her eyes grew moist. The very thought of that joy affected her like pain.
"It is a pity you are going away just as there is a chance of some skating," remarked Charlie to his tutor as they walked on. "You should see Aldyth skate. I think she is as clever on her skates as Kitty; though every one says Kitty is the best girl skater at Woodham. Guy was trying to teach Hilda last winter; but she is a duffer! She is too afraid of falling to do anything."
Glynne scarcely heard his words. He was lost in thought. Surely it was more than the hope of her mother's return which made Aldyth Lorraine speak so confidently of a happy New Year. Well, Guy Lorraine was a happy fellow. If only he had seemed a little more capable of appreciating the treasure he had won!
Finding his remarks met with no attention, Charlie ran on to overtake the other boys. His company was not missed. John Glynne walked slowly, and his vacant glance took no notice of two persons who were to be seen coming along a narrow lane which ran between the fields and led from the London Road to the Tolleshunt Road. In summer, the overhanging trees made the narrow walk delightfully shady, and wild flowers grew luxuriantly on either side; but now, when the trees were bare and not a flower to be seen, the lane had no attraction save such as its loneliness offered.
Glynne received an impression that the two walking there must be lovers; but he did not recognize the tall, squarely-built form nor the petite, girlish figure, which was such an extreme contrast to its height and strength. He could not suppose it to be of any consequence to him who the two were who found such pleasure in each other's society.
But a pair of eyes, very much on the alert to mark all that passed before them, had observed the two at the other end of the lane ere they passed into its shelter. Guy had been far from thinking, when he asked Hilda to meet him at Wood Corner that afternoon, that his uncle was likely to be anywhere in that neighbourhood. But Stephen Lorraine owned a farm not far from Wood Corner, and driving homewards from another direction, he remembered that his tenant had spoken to him about repairs. No time like the present, he decided, though to call at the farm would take him several miles out of his way.
Thus it happened that he suddenly appeared in the London Road, near the spot where Guy and Hilda had met. He was quick to recognize the tall, handsome form of his nephew, and the diminutive size of his companion revealed her identity. As soon as Guy perceived his uncle's gig coming along, he tried to escape observation by hurrying down the lane, an action which increased his uncle's displeasure.
What might have passed for a chance meeting had thus the appearance of a clandestine appointment.
"Little minx! Why does not her mother look after her?" he said to himself. "Well, I'll let her know, and she shall hear my mind on the subject, too."
"Straight down Woodham;" he said to the servant who was driving. "I have a call to make there."