She must go home at once, go home to be alone and to think.
She tiptoed back through the grove and across the fields.
Yet, if she had waited, she might have seen something else which would have been, at least, interesting.

She had scarcely reached the outer edge of the grove when another figure passed stealthily along that narrow path by the bluff edge.

A female figure treading very carefully, rising to peer over the bushes at the minister and Grace.

The figure of Miss Annabel Daniels, the "belle" of Trumet.

And Annabel's face was not pleasant to look upon..