"Perhaps you like new friends better?" he said. "Well, good-morning, Miss Churchill," and once more touching his cap he strode away, whistling for his dogs to follow him. "Who is the country Adonis?" asked John Temple, smiling. "Oh, he is called Mr. Tom Henderson of Stourton Grange," replied the Mayflower, demurely. "Ah!" said John, still smiling. He understood now, he thought, the cause of Mr. Henderson's clouded brow and sullen words. "He is a handsome fellow, don't you think, Miss Churchill?" he asked. "People call him good-looking," answered Miss Churchill, and she cast down her eyes a little consciously. "But I don't think he has a nice temper; fancy him striking the poor dog!" "Perhaps he was jealous because she seemed fond of you." "That was very foolish then." "Ah, but jealousy is a devouring demon," said John Temple. "But, of course, you never felt it?" "Oh, yes, I have!" "I can not believe it, Miss Churchill, though I am sure you have caused much." Again that puzzled look stole over the girl's face. She could not help feeling as though she knew Mr. Temple very well, and would like to talk nonsense to him, and yet she was conscious that perhaps she should not. "Do you know Mrs. Layton, the vicar's wife?" now inquired John Temple, remembering the character she had given Miss Churchill. "Oh, yes, and she's such a spiteful old woman!" "She's an awful old woman, I think. She bored me to death last night when she dined at the Hall." "Did she mention me?" now asked the Mayflower, with a glance of fun in her dark blue eyes. "Well, to tell the truth, she did," answered John Temple. "And she abused me, of course?" "That was impossible." "Oh, but I know she did if she mentioned me. I am one of her pet aversions. She says all sorts of hard things about me, and because they call me May at home she always addresses me as 'Miss Margaret,' as she thinks it is an ugly name, and I hate it." "The vicar told me they called you the Mayflower," said John, looking earnestly at the girl's lovely face. "Oh! that is a foolish name," she answered, with a blush and a smile rippling over her rosy lips. "I think it is a charming name, and forgive me if I say--" "Please don't say any nonsense--at least I mean--" She paused here, and blushed more deeply than before. "You mean I have not to pay you any compliments? What I was going to say is no compliment, but the simple truth. But I will not tell you even the truth unless you like it." "I--I do not care for compliments." "You do not need them." "That is all right then," smiled the Mayflower. "And--now I must say good-by, Mr. Temple; it is time I was going home." She put out her little hand quite timidly, and John Temple took it in his own. "May I see you again sometimes?" he said. "Will you come here again?" "I--do sometimes come here." "I shall hope to see you then. Good-by, Miss Churchill."