At all events during the next few days he went constantly to Woodside. Mr. Churchill's marriage had taken place, and the wealthy widow from Castle Hill would, no doubt, soon be installed at the farm. May tried not to think of it, and she tried also to tell herself that she must not think seriously of Mr. Temple. But do what she would she did think of him. After all, if he really loved her, would not that sweep away the social difference between them? And he did love her. May felt sure of this, and this surety alone brought her great happiness. People might try to separate them; his uncle probably would try, but true love can overcome all obstacles. In these sweet dreams the girl lived during the few days following her father's marriage. Then the time for the adjourned inquest approached, and in due course May received a letter from her father to tell her that on the following evening that he and his newly-made wife would arrive at Woodside. The preparations for this event were intensely disagreeable to May. John Temple also heard the news with great annoyance. No more quiet walks in the lonely garden then; no more tender hand-clasps, nor long, uninterrupted interviews. He gathered from May that her stepmother was not a lady; that she was bustling and interfering. "Perhaps it is better," John told himself. May's two young brothers, Hal and Willie Churchill, had been away for their holidays for a week or two also during this time, so that John Temple and the Mayflower practically had been able to see each other whenever they liked. They knew now this state of things would end. The boys were coming home; Mr. and Mrs. Churchill were on the point of arriving, and moreover, John Temple had received a hint from his uncle that his visits to Woodside Farm had been remarked on, and that it would be well that they should cease. "It can end in nothing, you know, John," the squire had said, not unkindly. "Certainly it will end in nothing, uncle," answered John, gravely. "I think, if you do not mind, after the adjourned inquest on that poor girl is over, I will leave Woodlea for a month or two." "My dear boy, you are your own master, and must guide your own actions," said the squire; "only I do not think it quite fair to this pretty girl that you should pay her so much attention when you can not marry her." "No, I can not marry her," replied John, and after this the subject was not mentioned again, but the conversation was not without effect on John Temple. So he went to see May for the last time before her stepmother's arrival in a very sober frame of mind. It was a dull, wet day, and when May saw him crossing the garden she went to open the house door for him, and gave him her hand with a warm clasp of welcome. "Thank you for coming to cheer me, as I feel so dreadfully dull," she said, smiling.