Amy hesitated ere she entered the park. Should she retrace her steps? She turned as if to do so, then the thought came across her, what if he should think she wished him to walk home with her? Hurriedly she went through the gate, and tried to shake off the fear she felt of being seen with him, but the very speed she walked at now, showed she could not, while, instead of walking up the long avenue, she struck across the park. But all to no purpose, for just as she emerged again into the drive, close to the house, a horse's hoofs rang out over the ground, and Charles Linchmore came up with her, his horse bespattered with mud, as though he had ridden hard and fast. "Here is your letter, Miss Neville," said he, "I almost feared I should miss you, and that you would have reached home," and again he dismounted, so that there was no chance of escape, or of hurrying on. "I am sorry you should have had so much trouble on my account, Mr. Linchmore, thank you very much for my letter," and her eyes brightened, as at length she recognized her mother's hand writing on the envelope. "I am fully repaid by seeing the pleasure the sight of the letter gives you." "Yes, it is my mother's writing, so she must be better." "You would have had it sooner, but there had been some accident or delay with the train, I did not stop to hear what. It had not arrived long before I got there." "Had you to go all the way to Standale? How very kind of you!" "Not at all. It was just as well you turned back," and he pointed smilingly at the muddy state of his boots. "I think it very kind indeed of you," replied Amy again, and then wished she had never said it, because he looked so more than pleased. They were close to the house now; to the windows of which Amy dared not raise her eyes, but hurriedly wished him "good-bye." "I will get your letters for you every day, Miss Neville," he said, as he pressed her hand rather warmly in his. "No, no. Do not think of it for a moment," she said, and passed on. That evening, when Amy took her pupils down stairs, she found on entering the drawing-room, all the ladies clustered around Mrs. Linchmore. "Such a piece of work, Miss Neville," said Anne, advancing from the circle, and going over to her, "here are all the men wild to go on a poaching expedition--so fool-hardy, isn't it?" "What does Mr. Linchmore say to it?" "He's going too, I believe. It is all that abominable Charles's doing; he came home with some fine story or another Grant had told him, and sent all the rest mad. I call it downright folly." "I met Mr. Charles Linchmore this afternoon," replied Amy, "and he mentioned his intention of going with Grant, but I thought little of it then, as I fancied it would most likely fall to the ground when the time for action came."