“I remember everything now,” she repeated; “the garden which I am not to see, and the poor afflicted lady, and the dreadful man who walked across the grass.”
“The man has gone, dearest. I trust you may not be troubled with him again—in any case he has nothing whatever to do with you.”
“Then what unpleasant thing have you to tell me, Adrian?”
“Only that I must leave thee, sweetheart.”
“Leave me, leave me?” she asked, her face turning very white.
“But not for long.” Rowton bent forward and kissed her lips. “Only for a few hours at the worst. That man brought me a message which makes it imperative for me to go to town to-night. In fact, I am leaving almost immediately—I shall take the very next train from Pitstow. If my business is happily concluded I shall be back in time to go to church with you to-morrow, if not——”
“Why do you say ‘if not’?” she asked. “Is there any fear?”
“No, none really. Of course there is a possibility that I may not return in time for church—in that case, you will go with Murray; be sure you go, Nance, whether I am with you or not. Now I have not a moment to spare.”
Rowton walked across the room and rang the bell. When the servant appeared he gave orders that his dog-cart was to be brought round in a quarter of an hour. He then prepared to leave the room.
“Let me come with you and help you to pack,” said Nancy.