nce, and
prudence were to be banished.

"I fear I must now leave you," said Dorothy, as darkness began to gather.

"I hope I may soon see you again," said John.

"Sometime I will see you if--if I can," she answered with downcast eyes.
"It is seldom I can leave the Hall alone, but I shall try to come here at
sunset some future day." John's silence upon a certain theme had given
offence.

"I cannot tell you how greatly I thank you," cried John.

"I will say adieu," said Dorothy, as she offered him her hand through the
bars of the gate. John raised the hand gallantly to his lips, and when she
had withdrawn it there seemed no reason for her to remain. But she stood
for a moment hesitatingly. Then she stooped to reach into her pocket while
she daintily lifted the skirt of her gown with the other hand and from the
pocket drew forth a great iron key.

"I brought this key, thinking that you might wish to unlock the gate--and
come to--to this side. I had great difficulty in taking it from the
forester's closet, where it has been hanging for a hundred years or more."

She showed John the key, returned it to her pocket, made a courtesy, and
moved slowly away, walking backward.

"Mistress Vernon," cried John, "I beg you to let me have the key."

"It is too late, now," said the girl, with downcast eyes. "Darkness is
rapidly falling, and I must return to the Hall."

John began to climb the gate, but she stopped him. He had thrown away his
opportunity.

"Please do not follow me, Sir John," said she, still moving backward. "I
must not remain longer."

"Only for one moment," pleaded John.

"No," the girl responded, "I--I may, perhaps, bring the key when I come
again. I am glad, Sir John, that you came to meet me this evening." She
courtesied, and then hurried away toward Haddon Hall. Twice she looked
backward and waved her hand, and John stood watching her through the bars
till her form was lost to view beneath the crest of Bowling Green Hill.

"'I brought this key, thinking that you might wish to unlock the gate and
come to this side,'" muttered John, quoting the girl's words. "Compared
with you, John Manners, there is no other fool in this world." Then
meditatively: "I wonder if she feels toward me as I feel toward her?
Surely she does. What other reason could bring her here to meet me unless
she is a brazen, wanton creature who is for every man." Then came a
jealous thought that hurt him like the piercing of a knife.