“No, thank you, John,” said Eve, smiling at the young man’s confusion. “We have only just come.”
“But it is getting damp, Miss,” said the young fellow, who was foreman at Bultitude’s farm.
“You didn’t think it was damp the other night, John, when you were up here in the wood with Jessie.”
“No, Miss, very true,” said the young man; “but perhaps Thomas Brough will come back.”
“Then,” said Mrs Glaire, quietly, “I should advise you to go back home at once, John.”
“Well, if you will have it, you will,” muttered the young man. “I did my best to stop it;” and with a rough salutation he went on his way.
“Eve, my dear, I should not go too often to Bultitude’s,” said Mrs Glaire. “Jessie is very well, but she is rather below the station you are to take, and—quick—here, come away—this way.”
She started up, and tried to drag Eve away, but she was too late; and her efforts to prevent the scene down the glade before them being seen by her young companion were in vain. For there, plainly visible in the golden glow, and framed as it were in the bower-like hazels, stood, with their backs to them, Richard Glaire and Daisy Banks.
The young couple were as motionless as those who gazed, for in an impetuous angry way, Eve had snatched herself free, and stood looking down the glade, while Mrs Glaire seemed petrified.
The next moment though, just as she was about to whisper hastily to Eve something about an accidental meeting, they saw Richard pass his arm round Daisy, who, nothing loth, allowed the embrace, and then as his lips sought hers, she threw her arms round his neck and responded to his caress.