It was Catherine--Catherine just emerged from a footpath across the fields, battling with wind and rain, and quite unconscious of any spectator.

Oh, what a sudden thrill was that! What a leaping together of joy and dread, which sent the blood to his heart! Alone--they two alone again-in the wild Westmoreland mists--and half a mile at least of winding road between them and Burwood.

He flew after her, dreading, and yet longing for the moment when he should meet her eyes.

Fortune had suddenly given this hour into his hands; he felt it open upon him like that mystic valley in the clouds.
Catherine heard the hurrying steps behind her and turned.

There was an evident start when she caught sight of her pursuer--a quick change of expression.