Mrs. Temple, in fact, knew this to be the case. The squire's will had been read, and though she was most amply provided for, the Hall and its contents went to the heir. This arrangement was only in accordance with the original entailment of the property. Mrs. Layton, as we know, had tried hard to have this clause set aside, but the squire would listen to no such suggestion. The Hall went with the estate, and John Temple was now its owner. "And--does he mention anything about bringing anyone home with him?" now inquired Mrs. Layton. "Not a word; I don't believe that girl is his wife." "Yet Mr. Churchill assured your father and myself that she is. And your father knows by name the clergyman who he says married them, Mr. Mold." "Well, we shall see, at all events; he will soon be here." Mrs. Temple, however, sent no message to Mr. Churchill that John was expected shortly at Woodlea. She desired her mother not to mention it; she wished to be the first, at all events, to know the truth about John Temple's marriage. And until the day of his arrival she was very restless. A second telegram came on the morning of that day to tell her he expected to be at Woodlea by about seven o'clock in the evening. A carriage was, therefore, sent to the station to meet him, and Mrs. Temple wandered about the house after this in a state of great excitement. At last she heard the sound of the carriage wheels returning, and, looking very pale and handsome, she went into the hall to meet the new owner. But when John Temple entered the house, and the lights fell on his altered face, she gave a little start and a sort of cry. "What is the matter?" she said, as she went forward and took his hand. "Have you been ill?" John Temple scarcely answered her. He looked brown, lined, and haggard, and naturally returning to Woodlea was very painful to him. Yet he bore himself with a certain calmness and dignity. He nodded to some of the servants that he knew, and then, on Mrs. Temple beckoning him to do so, he followed her into the morning room, and she hastily closed the door behind him. "Well," she said, after she had done this, looking quickly up in his face; "are you alone?" "Yes," answered John Temple, and his eyes fell. "Where is she then?" went on Mrs. Temple, excitedly. "The girl you took away?" John Temple's pale face grew a little paler, and his lips quivered. "Would to God I could tell you," he said, in a hoarse and broken voice; "but I know nothing." "Know nothing!" repeated Mrs. Temple in the greatest surprise. "What do you mean by this, John Temple? You can not expect us to believe you; her father, I am certain, will not." "I have returned here to tell what I know," continued Temple, still in that broken voice; "and I would give all I possess in the world to be able to tell more. But I can not--she--she left me one night--" "Left you?" interrupted Mrs. Temple, sharply.