He ended on a little laugh of triumph, and therewith, catching hold of both her hands, he drew her gently forward, looked close into her face, murmured "May! My beautiful May!" In that moment there came the strangest look upon May's countenance, a look of alarm, almost of terror. Her eyes were turned to a spot among the trees, some ten yards away. Dyce, seeing the sudden change of her expression, turned in the direction of her gaze. He was just in time to perceive the back of a retreating figure, which disappeared behind bushes. "Who was that?" he asked in a startled voice. May could only whisper. "It was Lord Dymchurch." "I thought so. Confound that fellow! What is he doing here at this time of the morning?" "He saw us," said May, her cheeks burning. "Oh, who could have expected--! He saw us distinctly. I shouldn't wonder if he heard what you were saying Why," she added, angrily, "did you speak so loud?" "Nonsense! He couldn't hear at that distance." "But he had been nearer." "Then the fellow is a sneak! What right has he to steal upon us?" "He didn't!" cried the girl. "I saw him as he stopped. I saw his face, and how astonished he looked. He turned away instantly." "Well, what does it matter?" exclaimed Dyce, who was quivering with excitement. "What do I care? What need you care? Haven't we perfect liberty to meet? After all, what _does_ it matter?" "But you forget," said May, "that he knows of your engagement." "My engagement! Let him know, and let him think what he likes! My engagement, indeed! Why, I haven't once thought of it since I left London--not once! There'll have to be an end to this intolerable state of things. Dymchurch isn't likely to tell anyone what he sees; he's a gentleman." "I must go in at once," cried May, losing her head. "Somebody else may come. Go away, please! Don't stay another minute." "But it's impossible. We have to come to an understanding. Listen to me, May!" He grasped her hand, passed his other arm around her. There was resistance, but Dyce used his strength in earnest. The girl's beauty fired him; he became the fervid lover, leaving her no choice between high resentment and frank surrender. Indignation was dying out of May's look. She ceased to struggle, she bent her head to his shoulder. "Isn't that much better?" he whispered, laughingly. "Isn't that the way out of our difficulties?" May allowed him to breathe a few more such soothing sentences, then spoke with troubled accent. "But you don't understand. What must Lord Dymchurch think of me--believing that you are engaged?" "I'll tell him the truth. I'll go and tell him at once." "But still you don't understand. My aunt wants me to marry him." "I know she does, and know she'll be disappointed," cried Dyce, exultantly. "But do you suppose that Lord Dymchurch will stay here any longer? He will leave this very morning, I'm sure he will. My aunt will want to know what it means. There'll be dreadful explanations."