The fact was, his own strip of forest was not very large and therefore he very frequently trespassed on Leonard's property in pursuit of game.

The old gentleman was, therefore, very desirous to keep his passion for the chase a secret, especially as his relations with Leonard were none of the best.
After that Henrietta had visited the little forest house no more.

This prosaic explanation had robbed it in her eyes of all its mysterious interest, nor did she think it becoming to enter a house whose owner was not on very good terms with her husband.

Only now did the recollection of the little forest dwelling recur to her, and in the terror of her soul she began to regard the little moss-covered hut whose doors stood, open, night and day, as a possible asylum.

It was the only place where she could take refuge, the only place where she had no need to fear spies, where nobody would look for her, where she might remain in hiding and from whence she might either return home or wander further out into the world according as fate was kind or unkind to her.
At night there would be nobody in the little house, for the enthusiastic old hunter would be stalking the forest.