For a long time after that--long, indeed, after Honora Jackman had left the Baffalls in peace and gone again upon her journeyings--Old Paul would sometimes, in moments of confidence, tenderly call Jimmy by that curious name, so that between them it rather stuck to him. It was, moreover, a reminder of something that must not be known by others--a sweet and beautiful confidence--the first of that kind between them. But Honora Jackman was not of the kind to be ignored, nor did she mean to give up the pursuit so easily. The children were a nuisance, but she remembered that they were not always in evidence; there was a time when the tiresome creatures were safely shut away with the Rev. Temple Purdue, and when Old Paul had, in a manner of speaking, lost his bodyguard. It would be hard if Honora did not contrive to get hold of the man at that time, and her confidence in herself told her that she could soon bring the man to her feet if once she had got him out of his usual surroundings. He was a good creature, and he was rich, and he was simply wasting his life. Apart from all else, too, Honora's pride was piqued at the thought of his apparent inaccessibility; she would challenge him, and that, too, before the children. To do her justice, she felt that ordinary honesty demanded that she should not attack Paul behind their backs. The opportunity arrived easily enough. On the following morning, behold Honora at the gate leading to the grounds, standing tall and slim and straight as the children came out on their way to the rectory; behold Old Paul standing sheepishly in the gateway, and giving her "Good morning!" Jimmy flushed hotly, and gave her his hand; Alice did likewise; Moira shyly drew back and bowed. Honora Jackman gaily nodded to Paul, and proffered her blunt request. "I lost my way again in the woods this morning, Mr. Nannock," she said. "You will really have to show me the way through them--and I'll promise not to go near your sacred haunts," she added, with a glance at Jimmy. "I--I should be delighted," said the recreant Paul in a low voice. "I can't manage it this morning; I've got some shopping to do in the village for Mrs. Baffall," said Honora. "Shall we say--to-morrow?" "To-morrow," echoed Paul, with a nod. The three children walked in silence to the rectory; it was a dismal day for everyone. And that night, for the second time, Old Paul sat in his room smoking, and listening for a little light footfall on the stairs--a footfall that never came. CHAPTER IV THE ELOPING PERSONS