"Oh, we will wait for your invaluable presence," replied Sir Francis. "We will not proceed without your sapient counsel and advice, depend upon it. There are many preliminaries to be gone through. I have to receive the other magistrates, for I do not choose to act in this matter by myself. I have several other things to communicate to them, and besides, who would venture to proceed in the absence of Mr. Charles Tyrrell? No, no, if you will condescend to walk to Mrs. Effingham's, and explain to her why I cannot come, we will, by all means, wait till you return."
Charles Tyrrell made no reply, but quitted the room, took his hat, and issued out into the park, to seek his way by the shortest path to Mrs. Effingham's.
As soon as he was out of the house, he felt glad that he had been sent; for the fresh air, the glorious sunshine, the sweet, bright, calm aspect of nature, were a solace and a refreshment to a mind which had been harassed throughout the whole morning with petty irritations.
As soon as he had reached the angle of the wood, close to the house, and was beneath the cool checkered shade of the green boughs, he pulled off his hat to let the reviving influence of the air play round his heated temples, and neither walking very quickly nor very slowly, moved on towards the other side of the park, endeavouring to fill his mind with thoughts unlike those which had so lately occupied him.
The path was wide and nicely kept, but it had been purposely rendered tortuous, and, though often approaching to the verge of the woods where they joined the wide, open deer-park, it still remained beneath the shelter of the trees, which prevented any one from seeing along it for more than twenty or thirty yards in advance; occasionally indeed, in spots where the trees were thinner, one could catch a glimpse of the onward course of the path at some distance; but it was only momentary, and everything had been done which the art of gardening could do, to give a sort of mysterious and lonely effect to the green light and shade which poured in upon it.
As Charles Tyrrell walked along, and when he had reached a spot about half way between his own dwelling and the manor-house, he thought he heard some one speaking, and, raising his eyes, saw through the boles of the trees at some distance before him one or two figures, he could not well distinguish which, coming rapidly along as if towards him. They were hidden in a moment by the other trees, and Charles, advancing more rapidly with some degree of curiosity--excited! why or by what he could not tell--plainly distinguished the voice of Lucy Effingham before he had proceeded twenty yards farther, saying in a loud and angry tone, "I insist upon your leaving me directly, sir. I am not now unprotected, and, depend upon it, you shall have cause to regret such conduct."