Last week he had spoken at Beechcote itself. Since Mrs.
Roughsedge's visit, Diana had borrowed the local paper from Brown, and
had read two of Oliver's speeches therein reported. As she looked up to
the downs, or caught through the nearer trees the lines of distant
woods, it was as though the whole scene--earth and air--were once more
haunted for her by Oliver--his presence--his voice. Beechcote lay on the
high-road from Tallyn to Dunscombe, the chief town of the division.
Several times a week, at least, he must pass the gate. At any moment
they might meet face to face.
The sooner the better! Unless she abandoned Beechcote, they must learn
to meet on the footing of ordinary acquaintances; and it were best
done quickly.
Voices on the lawn! Diana, peeping through the trees, beheld the Vicar
in conversation with Muriel Colwood. She turned and fled, pausing at
last in the deepest covert of the wood, breathless and a little ashamed.
She had seen him once since her return. Everybody was so kind to her,
the Vicar, the Miss Bertrams--everybody; only the pity and the kindness
burned so. She wrestled with these feelings in the wood, but she none
the less kept a thick screen between herself and Mr.
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