w occupied by another tenant.
John Randolph's visits to "The Shrubbery" began to be more frequent, and
were certainly not unacceptable. Gratitude to him for her rescue
forbade Mary's repelling him; and, indeed, the more she and her mother
came to know him, the more they learnt to value his manly and Christian
character. They began likewise to perceive that he was more than he
seemed to be. Mr Tankardew had given them to understand latterly that
he was their equal both in birth and fortune. A mystery there was about
him, it was true; but the veil was now getting so thin that they could
both see pretty distinctly through it, but were content to wait for the
proper time of its withdrawal. And so it was felt by all that, in time,
John Randolph and Mary Franklin would be drawn together by a closer bond
than that of esteem and respect, but no one as yet gave outspoken
expression to this conviction.

Things were thus hanging in no unpleasing suspense, when, in the
twilight of an October evening, two men of rather suspicious appearance
might have been seen climbing the paling _fence_ at the back of "The
Shrubbery." Scarcely had one of them reached the top, when a third
person approached, at first hastily; then he suddenly checked himself,
and cautiously crept along, so as to keep himself out of the sight of
the two others who were climbing into the grounds. This third person
was John Randolph, who had lately left "The Shrubbery," and had come
round by the road at the back, to call, by Mrs Franklin's request, on a
poor sick cottager in the village. The road in this part was lonely,
and the trespassers evidently imagined themselves unobserved. The first
who scaled the palings was a stoutish, middle-aged man: but who was the
other? Randolph's heart beat violently with a terrible suspicion. Did
he know this second figure? He could not be quite sure, for he was
afraid to approach too near; but he was almost convinced that he had
seen him before. When fairly over the fence, both men crept along as
quietly as possible under the shelter of a large bank of evergreens. He
who had climbed over last led the way, and was plainly well acquainted
with the grounds; he was a much younger man than his companion, and
seemed scarcely sober, yet without having lost self-possession and the
knowledge of what he was doing. John waited till they were fairly out
of hearing, and then himself rapidly and noiselessly followed them
towards th