’I must go, Mr Owen—­Miss Gwynne will be waiting for me.  Will you give my duty to the dear mistress?’

’I will take your love to her, Gladys, and keep half of it.  May I walk with you?’

‘If you please not, Mr Owen.  I would rather not.’

‘Are you happy? just tell me this.’

’Very—­very.  Miss Gwynne is so good.  I can only be happy.  Good-bye, Mr Owen.’

‘Good-bye, dear Gladys,’ said Owen, pressing her trembling hand that she held out to him, and opening the farm-yard gate for her to go out.

As Gladys hurried on with a light heart and light step, she little thought that those kind eyes which had looked so lovingly at her were clouded with the mists of jealousy in less than five minutes after she had left the farm.  She could not guess that the boy who had picked up the half sovereign for Colonel Vaughan would give Owen the history of the same, and would tell him that Gladys had dropped it, but that he was pretty sure she had more money in her hand.

Unconscious of anything but sunshine above and within, she hastened on, thinking of Owen, in spite of her resolution not to think of him—­a resolution she was making and breaking from morning till night.  Her thoughts were turned into another channel, however, by the appearance of Colonel Vaughan, who suddenly came upon her from one of the many cross-paths in the wood.

She curtseyed slightly, and was about to pass him, but he turned and walked with her.

‘Gladys,’ he began, ’I wish to know why you refused the money I offered you yesterday.’

‘Because, sir, I did not think it right to take it,’ answered Gladys, promptly.

‘Why! what harm could there have been?’

Gladys quickened her steps, but did not answer.

’Not so fast, Gladys.  I have you at last, in spite of yourself.  You have avoided me hitherto, both when you were at Prothero’s and here, and purposely misunderstood me—­now you must walk through the wood with me, and at my pace, for I must speak to you.’

‘Sir, Miss Gwynne expects me early,’ said Gladys, with wonderful dignity of manner, which was not lost upon the colonel—­’she is my mistress, and I must obey her.  I shall be obliged by your letting me go on.’

’We will both go on, but leisurely and together.  I have much to say to you, and I may not have another opportunity.’

Gladys tried to pass on, but finding that Colonel Vaughan’s hand was on her arm, and that he was resolved to detain her, she endeavoured to summon up all her resolution and sense, and to answer his questions, whatever they might be, according to what she might think right.

‘You will be so good as to account to my mistress for this delay, sir,’ she said.  ‘I am no longer a free agent.’

‘I shall do no such thing; neither will you, I hope?’

‘I most certainly shall, if necessary.’

‘Never mind; I must know, at all risks, who and what you are.’