John himself went off peremptorily to the gardener, and disturbed him among his vegetables. He was busy with the cucumbers, and considered the lawn at that moment worse than vanity. But John’s temper was up, thanks to his father who had thus carried her off from him under his very nose, and poor Roots had no chance against him. When he had effectually spoiled that poor man’s morning’s work, the young fellow went off sullenly enough with his fishing-rod. She was out of his reach, no doubt. She thanked heaven she was no clergyman’s wife; but yet---- The only man in the world, so far as John knew, who had any right to her was himself--more right than her father. Her life was his, for he had given it back to her. Of all ties on earth, could there be one more binding? not that he meant to make any ungenerous use of his claim, or even to breathe it in words; but yet he knew it, and she knew it. He had given her back her life. CHAPTER VI. As for Kate and Dr Mitford, they did not know very well what to say to each other. “What a charming day!” the girl said at intervals; “and what a pretty country! I never knew it until I took that unfortunate ride.” “Don’t speak of that,” said the old gentleman; “at least don’t speak of it _so_. It was a most fortunate ride, I am sure, for us.” “It makes me giddy when I think of it,” said Kate, shutting her eyes. “You are very fond of riding, I suppose? I am always rather nervous when I see a lady on a spirited horse. You are very charming riders, and very full of courage, and all that,” said the Doctor, who was himself considerably bothered by the mild animal he was driving; “but it requires a man’s hand, my dear Miss Crediton. There are some things, believe me, that require a man’s hand.” “Yes, no doubt,” said Kate, politely, longing all the time to take the reins into her own small nervous fingers. Dr Mitford had a nice little white soft hand--a clergyman’s hand--without any bone or fibre in it. “We made up our minds quite suddenly,” she went on, “that we would go back from Humbledon to Camelford, riding. I had often heard of Fanshawe Regis, but I never saw it before.” “Most people have heard of Fanshawe Regis,” said the Doctor. “I consider my library one of the lions of the country--not that it is so very old, only Elizabethan, or, at the farthest, Henry the Seventh; but household architecture is a thing by itself. We expect the Archæological Society to hold its next meeting at Camelford, and then I hope much light may be thrown upon our antiquities. We shall make an excursion to Dulchester, Miss Crediton, and you must come with us there.” “Oh, I am sure I am much obliged,” said Kate.