Fortunately the morning was fine, and a faint gleam of sunshine tried to penetrate the thin haze brooding over the Gardens. Although it was the last day of October, the air was mild; but, contrary to his usual custom, Malcolm failed to notice the effect of the clinging mist round the leafless trees, the nebulous distances, and the faint golden streaks of sunshine; his mind was full of the approaching interview and the difficult work that lay before him.
It was so early that the place seemed quite deserted; but presently he heard dogs barking, and the next moment two little fox-terriers, curiously alike, rushed past him intent on their play. He recognised them at once from Cedric's description—they were Tim and Tartar, belonging to Saul Jacobi; and he knew their mistress was at hand.
He looked at her intently as she came slowly towards him. She wore a dark red dress and jacket, that set off her graceful figure, and her close velvet hat was a darker shade of the same colour.
On any one else the effect might have been too striking, but it exactly suited her; and as Malcolm noticed the exquisite colour of her face and the wonderful coils of black hair, he was obliged to acknowledge that Cedric's temptation had been strong, and that many an older man might have lost his heart to so beautiful a creature.
Leah's eyes had been fixed on the ground, and she did not see Malcolm until she was quite close to him; but, though she was evidently surprised to meet him, she only bowed gravely, and would have passed on. But Malcolm placed himself at her side.
"You are an early riser, Miss Jacobi," he observed in a friendly tone. "Are you always so energetic?"
"I like an early morning walk," she replied quietly; but there was an uneasy flush on her face, as though she found Malcolm's society embarrassing. "I generally have the Gardens to myself at this hour. My brother is a late riser, and this is my leisure time. I have never met you here before, Mr. Herrick;" and here Leah gave him a quick, furtive glance from under her long lashes.
"I daresay not," he returned coolly, "this is hardly my beat. To tell you the truth. Miss Jacobi, my errand is to you this morning." A quick, undefinable expression almost resembling fear came over her face; but she answered him quietly.
"You have come here to talk to me?" with an air of well-simulated surprise. "How could you know my habits? I think," a little stiffly, "we have only met twice."
"You are quite right, Miss Jacobi. I spoke to you first in the porch at Cookham church, and the second time at the Etheridges—as far as that goes we are little acquainted with each other; but we have a mutual friend, you and I." Then he saw her eyes suddenly droop.