Durban nodded and grinned. "To young Mr. Snow," he replied. "I saw."
"Well, I want to go to Convent Grange this evening at six, to see Miss Paslow, and talk over the matter."
Durban shook his head. "Master is angry with Mr. Paslow for some reason, and will not let you go. Besides, at night----" Durban shook his head again very sagely.
"That's just it," said Beatrice, rising; "I know that my father would object, therefore I wish to slip out of the small gate secretly, and return about nine; he will never know."
"He will never know, certainly, missy; but the way to Convent Grange is dark and lonely."
"Not on a summer night; the moon is out, and there will be plenty of people on the road."
"Would you like me to come, missy?"
"If you will," assented Beatrice carelessly. She would rather have gone alone, but since the Grange was now her goal, and not the Witch Oak, Durban's presence did not matter. "But there is no need."
"Oh, I think so; there will be a storm to-night, and then it will grow dark. Besides, people may not be about, and the path to Convent Grange is lonely. I shall come also."
"Very good; and the key----