"In my belief she is at Sandford Abbey."
"At Sandford!" cried the young man under his breath. "Visit that scoundrel in his own house!"
"It appears she has once or twice declared that, in spite of us all, she would go and see his house and his pictures. In my belief, she has done it this morning. It is her last chance. We go to Paris to-morrow. However, we shall soon know."
The Rector pushed on at redoubled speed. Stephen kept up with him, his lips twitching.
"Why did you separate us?" he broke out at last, in a low, bitter voice.
And yet he knew why—or suspected! But the inner smart was so great he could not help the reproach.
"I tried to act for the best," said Meynell, after a moment, his eyes on the ground.
Stephen watched his friend uncertainly. Again and again he was on the point of crying out—
"Tell me the truth about Hester!"—on the point also of warning and informing the man beside him. But he had promised his father. He held his tongue with difficulty.
When they reached the spot where Stephen's path diverged from that which led by a small bridge across the famous trout-stream to Sandford Abbey, Stephen suddenly halted.