At last, one day, when he was driving, by a seldom-used road, past the
fields near the Abbey House on his way from Roxham, chance gave him
the opportunity that he had for so long sought without success. For,
far up a by-lane that led to a turnip-field, his eye caught sight of
the flutter of a grey dress vanishing round a corner, something in the
make of which suggested to him that Angela was its wearer. Giving the
reins to the servant, and bidding him drive on home, he got out of the
dog-cart and hurried up the grassy track, and on turning the corner
came suddenly upon the object of his search. She was standing on the
bank of the hedge-row, and struggling with a bough of honeysuckle from
which she wished to pluck its last remaining autumn bloom. So engaged
was she that she did not hear his step, and it was not until his hard
voice grated on her ear, that she knew that she was trapped.
"Caught at last. You have given me a pretty hunt, Angela."
The violent start she gave effectually carried out her purpose as
regards the honeysuckle, which snapped in two under the strain of her
backward jerk, and she turned round upon him panting with fear and
exertion, the flowery bough grasped within her hand.
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