"It cannot be," Maude whispered. "He is miles and miles away. Even allowing that he had returned, what should bring him here?--he would have gone direct to the Hold." But George was positive that it was Chattaway. The voices were advancing down the path on the other side the hedge, and would probably come through the gate, right in front of George and Maude. To meet Chattaway was not particularly coveted by either of them, even at the most convenient times, and just now it was not convenient at all. George drew Maude under one of the great elm trees, which overshadowed the hedge on this side. "Just for a moment, Maude, until they have passed. I am certain it is Chattaway!" The gate swung open and someone came through it. Only one. Sure enough it was Chattaway. He strode onwards, muttering to himself, a brown paper parcel in his hand. But ere he had gone many steps, he halted, turned, came creeping back and stood peering over the gate at the man who was walking away. A little movement to the right, and Mr. Chattaway might have seen George and Maude standing there. But he did not. He was grinding his teeth and working his disengaged hand, altogether too much occupied with the receding man, to pay attention to what might be around himself. Finally, his display of anger somewhat cooling down, he turned again and continued his way towards Trevlyn Hold. "Who can it be that he is so angry with?" whispered Maude. "Hush!" cautioned George. "His ears are sharp." Very still they remained until he was at a safe distance, and then they went through the gate. Almost beyond their view a tall man was pacing slowly along in the direction of Trevlyn Farm, whirling an umbrella round and round in his hand. "Just as I thought," was George's comment to himself. "Who is it, George?" "That stranger who is visiting at the parsonage." "He seemed to be quarrelling with Mr. Chattaway." "I don't know. Their voices were loud. I wonder if Rupert has found his way to the Farm?" "Octave forbade him to go." "Were I Ru I should break through _her_ trammels at any rate, and show myself a man," remarked George. "He may have done so to-night." They turned in at the garden-gate, and reached the porch. All signs of the stranger had disappeared, and sounds of merriment came from within. George turned Maude's face to his. "You will not forget, Maude?" "Forget what?" she shyly answered. "That from this night we begin a new life. Henceforth we belong to each other. Maude! you will not forget!" he feverishly continued. "I shall not forget," she softly whispered. And, possibly by way of reminder, Mr. George, under cover of the silent porch, took his first lover's kiss from her lips. CHAPTER XXVIII AT DOCTORS' COMMONS But where had Mr. Chattaway been all that time? And how came he to be seen by George Ryle and Maude hovering about his own ground at night, when he was supposed to be miles away? The explanation can be given.