He repressed a shudder, and then a pang that seemed to pierce his heart shot through him, for with a malicious smile Rockley said: "I did not know the lady had made an appointment with you. Of course, she had to keep up appearances. But there: I'll say no more." He raised his cap mockingly, and went off across the cornfield, leaving Richard Linnell stung to the heart, his brow knit, and his eyes fixed upon Claire, who, white as ashes, and her face convulsed by the agony within her breast, crouched where she had sunk upon the lower steps of the stile. Volume Two, Chapter II. "IMPOSSIBLE!" "Claire--Miss Denville," cried Richard Linnell, mastering the cruel thoughts suggested by Rockley's words, "how dared that scoundrel insult you like this!" "Hush!" said Claire agitatedly. "Don't--pray don't speak to me. I cannot bear it." "You are ill. You are faint. Let me help you over these bars and get you to one of the cottages." "No; I shall be better directly. Don't speak to me now." She bent down, covered her face with her hands, and the tears came now in a passionate burst, while he went down on his knee beside her, laid one hand upon her arm, and, his doubts and suspicions all driven away by her grief, tried to whisper words of comfort as he bade her be calm. Major Rockley had walked with jaunty military stride for the first two or three hundred yards with assumed calmness; then he gave vent to his rage in a torrent of oaths, and strode on rapidly out of sight, beating the air fiercely with his whip, and leaving the fields clear of his presence as Richard Linnell knelt by the sobbing girl. "Miss Denville--Claire," he said again, as he now possessed himself of her hand, while in his anger and remorse at having doubted her he poured forth his words in quick, excited tones. "I had not thought to speak to you like this, and at such a time, but I cannot bear to see you weep--it cuts me to the heart, for I love you-- Claire, dear Claire, I love you dearly as man can love." "Oh, hush, hush!" she moaned piteously, weak now with her emotion and the scene she had gone through. "I must speak now," he went on. "I have no opportunities of seeing you and telling you all I feel. Claire, I would have come and asked permission to address you, but I have been obliged to feel that my presence was not welcome to Mr Denville, and you--you have been so cold and distant to me of late." She did not speak, but kept one hand to her bent-down face, while he held the other tightly clasped in his. "You do not speak," he whispered. "Claire--you are not angry? I have suffered so--there, I confess--such jealous thoughts, such bitter cruel thoughts, though I had no right--no claim upon your love. But now, forgive me--only tell me--there was nothing between you and that man?" She raised her head quickly, and dropped her hand. "You ask me that!" she said proudly.