But, when I had put on my hat and mantle, and Mrs. Manners had led me down into the drawing-room again, to say a few last words to me, and I was wondering how I could wait until Mr. Reade kept his promise and returned, I heard a ring and Mr. Rayner’s voice in the hall. I started and blushed, and Mrs. Manners stopped in her talk and looked at me very searchingly. “Mr. Rayner must have come to fetch you home,” she said coldly. I would not have missed the walk home with Mr. Reade for the world. “I am afraid so,” I stammered. She looked colder still at my confusion; but there was only one way out of it, so I burst out-- “Oh, Mrs. Manners, Mr. Reade said he would come to fetch me! What shall I do?” “You would rather go with him?” “Oh, yes, yes!” Her manner changed all at once. She put her arm around me and drew me to the French window. “There, my dear--run out there and wait at the gate on the left. That’s the way they always come from the Hall. It is a little deception, I am afraid; but there--go, child, go! He is a good lad.” So I ran swiftly across the lawn in the dusk, afraid of Mr. Rayner’s seeing me, and up the path between the laurel hedges which led to the side gate. The path curved just at the end, and I heard the gate swing to; but I could not stop myself. And, as Mr. Reade dashed round the corner, running too, I fell against him, and then panted out, “I beg your pardon,” very much confused. He had caught me by the arms, and he did not let me go, but held them very gently, while he said-- “Miss Christie! Pray don’t apologize. Where were you running?” “I--I was going home,” I stammered in a low voice. “But that is not the way.” A pause--then very softly--“Were you coming to meet me?” “N-o,” said I, half crying, and disengaging myself. It was so humiliating to have been caught running to meet Mr. Reade. “No? I had hoped you were. For I’ve been running like a race-horse to meet you.” I said nothing. “Why did you want to run home so fast alone, when I had promised to come and fetch you?” “I--I didn’t want to trouble you.” “That was very kind of you. But, if I happen not to mind the trouble, may I see you home now I am here? Or would you prefer to go alone?” “I would rather go alone, thank you,” said I, though it was heart-breaking to have to say it. But I thought it was time to show some spirit, for I saw that Mr. Reade did not believe me. He stepped aside to let me pass, and raised his hat very stiffly; then his manner changed all at once. “Why, you are crying! My darling, I didn’t mean to make you cry!” I could not stop him--I did try--but he was so much bigger than I that he had his arms around me before I could get away. “Oh, Mr. Reade, let me go!” I said, frightened. But, as I held up my face to say it, he kissed me, and, after that, of course it did not matter, for I knew that he loved me and that I was safe with him.