He took off his cap and stood bare-headed before her, and as with her light feet the Mayflower turned homeward, she was not thinking of her lover, young Henderson, but of the stranger who had just crossed her path. CHAPTER IV. THE OLD LOVE AND THE NEW. After Mr. Tom Henderson had left the Mayflower with John Temple in Fern Dene, he walked onward with a frowning brow and an angry heart. He was in love with the pretty girl he had just seen sitting with another man lying at her feet; in love with her, and jealous of her very words, and moreover he knew who this other man was. He had seen John Temple at poor young Phil Temple's funeral the day before, and knew therefore that this good-looking, pleasant-tongued man was the new heir of Woodlea. "And how on earth did Margaret Churchill pick up his acquaintance?" he asked himself, scowlingly. He felt savage at the very thought. He was a hot-tempered man, and had been brought up at home, and always had had very much his own way at Stourton Grange. And now he was master there, and had no small opinion of his own importance. He knew that in point of family and position he was a good match for Margaret Churchill. Margaret's father was a tenant farmer, and Tom Henderson a land-owner, and he quite appreciated the difference. But the beauty of the neighborhood apparently did not. She did not treat the young squire of Stourton as he expected to be treated, and perhaps this really only added to her attractions in his eyes. At all events he felt very angry at seeing her with John Temple. He walked on with hasty steps, and never noticed that presently he was followed by a woman. By and by he came to a field of tall uncut corn, which was swaying in the summer breeze. Then she made haste to overtake him. She quickened her steps, she almost ran, and a few moments later she called out his name. "Tom!" she cried, and young Henderson hearing her voice turned quickly round, and a dusky flush rose to his face as he did so. "Well, Elsie," he said, stopping and looking by no means well-pleased, "where have you cast up from?" "Ah! I've followed you ever so far, Tom," panted the girl; "I've been waiting about all the morning trying to see you." "That was wasting your time then, Elsie." "No, don't say that, but I could not rest till I saw you. Why did you not come last night, Tom, as you promised?" "I could not get away; some one came to the Grange." "Well I've got something to tell you; something that's nearly driven me mad, though I know it's nothing but lies--oh, yes, I know that, Tom." She looked up in his handsome face as she spoke--the half-averted face--and there was beseeching love and tenderness in her eyes. "And what is this wonderful thing then, Elsie?" he asked. "It was Elizabeth Jenkins, and she said--" "Well, what did she say?" "I know it's all nonsense, and you mustn't be angry, Tom--but she said you often went to Woodside Farm; that you--were running after Miss Churchill, in fact."