An enormous wave of relief rolled up and enveloped Jack. He had been exceedingly uncomfortable this morning, ever since the letter had come. His first impulse had been to ride over instantly after breakfast; then he had postponed it till lunch; then he had eaten some cold beef about half-past twelve and come straight away. He told himself he must give her plenty of time to write by the late Sunday night post. He had not exactly distrusted Jenny; Frank's confidence was too overwhelming and too infectious. But he had reflected that it was not a wholly pleasant errand to have to inform a girl that her lover had been in prison for a fortnight. But the tone in which she had just said those four words was so serene and so compassionate that he was completely reassured. This really was a fine creature, he said to himself. "I'm extraordinarily glad you take it like that," he said. Jenny looked at him out of her clear, direct eyes. "You didn't suppose I should abuse him, did you?... How exactly like Frank! I suppose he did it to save some blackguard or other." "I expect that was it," said Jack. "Poor, dear old boy!" she said again. There was a moment's silence. Then Jack began again: "You see, I've got to go and tell Lord Talgarth. Miss Launton, I wish you'd come with me. Then we can both write by to-night's post." Jenny said nothing for an instant. Then: "I suppose that would be best," she said. "Shall we go up pretty soon? I expect we shall find him in the garden." Jack winced a little. Jenny smiled at him openly. "Best to get it over, Mr. Jack. I know it's like going to the dentist. But it can't be as bad as you think. It never is. Besides, you'll have somebody to hold your hand, so to speak." "I hope I shan't scream out loud," observed Jack. "Yes, we'd better go--if you don't mind." He stood up and waited. Jenny rose at once. "I'll go and get a hat. Wait for me here, will you? I needn't tell father till this evening." (II) The park looked delicious as they walked slowly up the grass under the shade of the trees by the side of the drive. The great beeches and elms rose in towering masses, in clump after clump, into the distance, and beneath the nearest stood a great stag with half a dozen hinds about him, eyeing the walkers. The air was very still; only from over the hill came the sound of a single church bell, where some infatuated clergyman hoped to gather the lambs of his flock together for instruction in the Christian religion. "That's a beauty," said Jack, waving a languid hand towards the stag. "Did you ever hear of the row Frank and I got into when we were boys?" Jenny smiled. She had been quite silent since leaving the Rectory. "I heard of a good many," she said. "Which was this?" Jack recounted a story of Red Indians and ambuscades and a bow and arrows, ending in the flight of a frantic stag over the palings and among the garden beds; it was on a Sunday afternoon, too.