far as Lornton Inn--the spot
between the Forest and the Chase at which he had waited for night on the
evening of their elopement. Thither she drove at the appointed hour in a
little pony-chaise, presented her by her father on her birthday for her
especial use in her new house; which vehicle she sent back on arriving at
the inn, the plan agreed upon being that she should perform the return
journey with her husband in his hired coach.

There was not much accommodation for a lady at this wayside tavern; but,
as it was a fine evening in early summer, she did not mind--walking about
outside, and straining her eyes along the highway for the expected one.
But each cloud of dust that enlarged in the distance and drew near was
found to disclose a conveyance other than his post-chaise. Barbara
remained till the appointment was two hours passed, and then began to
fear that owing to some adverse wind in the Channel he was not coming
that night.

While waiting she was conscious of a curious trepidation that was not
entirely solicitude, and did not amount to dread; her tense state of
incertitude bordered both on disappointment and on relief. She had lived
six or seven weeks with an imperfectly educated yet handsome husband whom
now she had not seen for seventeen months, and who was so changed
physically by an accident that she was assured she would hardly know him.
Can we wonder at her compound state of mind?

But her immediate difficulty was to get away from Lornton Inn, for her
situation was becoming embarrassing. Like too many of Barbara's actions,
this drive had been undertaken without much reflection. Expecting to
wait no more than a few minutes for her husband in his post-chaise, and
to enter it with him, she had not hesitated to isolate herself by sending
back her own little vehicle. She now found that, being so well known in
this neighbourhood, her excursion to meet her long-absent husband was
exciting great interest. She was conscious that more eyes were watching
her from the inn-windows than met her own gaze. Barbara had decided to
get home by hiring whatever kind of conveyance the tavern afforded, when,
straining her eyes for the last time over the now darkening highway, she
perceived yet another dust-cloud drawing near. She paused; a chariot
ascended to the inn, and would have passed had not its occupant caught
sight of her standing expectantly. The horses were checked on the
instant.

'You here--and alone,