Meanwhile Sir Philip Meryon had laid aside his rod and was apparently
enjoying the encounter between his companion and the Rector.

"Perhaps you have forgotten--this is _my_ side of the river, Meynell!" he
shouted across it.

"I am quite aware of it," said the Rector, as he shook hands with the
embarrassed Mary. She was just moving away with a shy good-bye to the
angry young goddess on the farther bank, when the goddess said:

"Don't go, Mary! Here, Sir Philip--take the fly-book!" She flung it
toward him. "Goodnight."

And turning her back upon him without any further ceremony, she walked
quickly along the stream toward the little bridge which Meynell had
pointed out.

"Congratulations!" said Meryon, with a mocking wave of the hand to the
Rector, who made no reply. He ran to catch up Mary, and the two joined
the girl in white at the bridge. The owner of Sandford Abbey stood
meanwhile with his hand on his hip watching the receding figures. There
was a smile on his handsome mouth, but it was an angry one; and his
muttered remark as he turned away belied the unconcern he had affected.

* * * * *

"That comes, you see, of not letting me be engaged to Stephen!" said
Hester in a white heat, as the three walked on together.

Mary looked at her in astonishment.