WYLDER'S HAJVD.
173
With a start, Rachel glanced back, and saw. the pale,
peculiar face of her brother. His yellow eyes for a mo-
ment gleamed into hers, and then on the Vicar, and, with
his accustomed smile, he extended his hand.
"How do you do ? — better, I hope, Radie? How are
you, William?"
Rachel grew deadly pale, and then flushed, and then
was pale again.
"I thought, Stanley, you were in London."
"So I was; but I arrived here this morning; I'm stay-
ing for a few days at the Lodge — Larkin's house; you're
going home, I suppose, Radie?"
"Yes — oh, yes — but I don't know that I'll go this
way. You say you must return to Gylingden now, Mr.
Wylder; I think I'll turn also, and go home that way."
"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," said the
Vicar, truly as well as kindly, for he had grown interested
in their conversation; "but I fear you are tired " — he
looked very kindly on her pale face — " and you know it
will cost you a walk of more than two miles."
"I forgot — yes — I believe I am a little tired; I'm
afraid I have led you, too, farther than you intended."
She fancied that her sudden change of plan on meeting
her brother would appear odd.
"I'll see you a little bit on your way home, Radie," said
Stanley.
It was just what she wished to escape. She was more
nervous, though not less courageous than formerly. But
the old, fierce, defiant spirit awoke. Why should she fear
Stanley, or what could it be to her whether he was beside
her in her homeward walk?
So the Vicar made his adieux there, and began, at a
brisker pace, to retrace his steps toward Gylingden; and
she and Stanley, side by side, walked on toward Redman's
Dell.