“I have no doubt of it,” said he. “Nineteen is a great age. But not quite great enough to bear the burden of such a pitiful story. Come.”
Reluctantly letting her hand drop, he followed her down the steps into the garden, and Mabin, with all the interest of the visit in her mind, could not repress her delight at finding herself once more in the garden she loved so well. Mr. Banks watched her bright face, as her eyes wandered from the smooth lawn to the borders full of geraniums and pansies, rose-bushes and tall white lilies.
And when she found herself once more in the grass walk, she could not repress an exclamation of pleasure.
“You are fond of your garden,” said he. “You must have found it hard to give it up to a stranger!”
Mabin acknowledged the fact with a blush, and, encouraged by his questions, told him some details about her own gardening, and her own pet flowers. Chatting upon such matters as these, they soon reached the side gate in the wall, and passing into the lane, came to the plantation behind “The Towers.”
And suddenly to the consternation of Mabin, she heard two voices, within the wood, which she recognized as those of Rudolph and Mrs. Dale.
She turned quickly to Mr. Banks.
He stopped and held out his hand.
“I have not forgotten my promise,” said he; “I will leave you now and—and I promise that I will not try to see her again.”
The next moment he had disappeared—only just in time. For as the garden gate shut behind him, Mrs. Dale, with a white face and wild eyes, broke through the trees and confronted Mabin.