"Don't think me ungrateful," she added, looking up into his eyes.
"No indeed--not that there is anything to be grateful for." In a moment more he was gone, feeling that he had done his duty like a man, and that it had not been so hard after all.

He was glad it was done, however, and he felt that he could face the vicar with a bold front at their next meeting.

He went quickly down the path and crossed the road to his own gate with a light step.

As he entered the park he was not aware of a wretched-looking tramp who slouched along the quickset hedge and watched his retreating figure far up the avenue, till he was out of sight among the leafless trees.

If Stamboul had been with the squire the tramp would certainly not have passed unnoticed; but for some days the roads had been so muddy that Stamboul had been left behind when Mr.Juxon made his visits to the cottage, lest the great hound should track the mud into the spotless precincts of the passage.