“I’m so glad you’re here, Peter,” she said. Let her see what she could make here. ” She had a moment of sheer panic at the thing she had done. What had urged her to wrench loose and fly was the guarding instinct of the good woman. It would not have been for her an anomaly to read a love story in which there were no kisses. Up to this moment, hopes had been entertained of a respite, strong representations in his favour having been made in the highest quarter; but now that his fate seemed sealed, the curiosity of the sight-seeing public to behold him was redoubled. The elusive Jane tapped her on the shoulder after class. Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved. Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. A fever of shame ran through her being. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees.
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