Henderson had never seen her since the great scandal about himself and poor Elsie Wray had occurred, and he was by no means sure that she would take any notice of him now. He put up his hand nervously therefore to take off his hat, but Mrs. Temple stopped, and so he also drew rein. "Good-morning," she said; "it's a long time since I last saw you, Mr. Henderson." "Yes," he answered, rather huskily, while a dusky flush spread over his face. "Why don't you come and see us?" continued Mrs. Temple. "I was not sure you would care to see me." Mrs. Temple gave a little airy shrug of her handsome shoulders. She was looking very well, and had apparently got over her deep grief for the loss of her boy, and at one time Henderson had been rather a frequent visitor at Woodlea Hall. "Oh, yes, I shall be glad to see you," she said. "I lost my nephew yesterday, you know," she added; "John Temple has gone away." "Gone away?" echoed Henderson, sharply, and the dusky flush faded from his face. "Yes, he has gone for a week or so, I believe; abroad, I think, but he was rather vague about his movements." Henderson did not speak. Had he gone to May, he was thinking, with a sharp and bitter pang. "By the by," continued Mrs. Temple, "has anything ever been heard of that pretty girl, Miss Churchill, who ran away from home? You were one of her swains, were you not, Mr. Henderson?" And Mrs. Temple laughed and showed her white teeth. "I knew them very well, at all events," muttered Henderson, with downcast eyes. "Oh, you were one of her many admirers, they told me," said Mrs. Temple, with a smile. "Well, she certainly is pretty; such a fine complexion. John Temple called her beautiful; do you?" "She is handsome," said Henderson, hoarsely. "Well, I am rather curious about her flight, or disappearance, or whatever it was. Will you call to-morrow at four o'clock and tell me all about it?" "I know nothing," began Henderson, but Mrs. Temple stopped him with a little wave of her driving whip. "Never mind; call to-morrow at four; and now good-morning, Mr. Henderson," and she nodded her head and drove on. But for a moment or two Henderson sat still on his saddle after she had passed him. What did she mean, he was asking himself. Did she suspect that there was anything between John Temple and May Churchill? that he had anything to do with her flight? This idea which had haunted Henderson in spite of himself now recurred to his mind with threefold force. At all events he would go to the Hall and hear what Mrs. Temple had to say. And he did go, and was received by Mrs. Temple, who smilingly held out her hand to him. "You see," she said in that half-reckless way which was one of her characteristics, "I have not turned my back on you in spite of your troubles." "It is very good of you," answered Henderson.