Vane of the Timberlands by Harold Bindloss

Dusk was drawing on, but there was still a little light in the western sky, when Vane strolled along the terrace in front of the Dene. In the distance the ranks of fells rose black and solemn out of filmy trails of mist, but the valley had faded to a trough of shadow. A faint breeze was stirring, and the silence was broken by the soft patter of withered leaves which fluttered down across the lawn. Vane noticed it all by some involuntary action of his senses, for although, at the time, he was oblivious to his surroundings, he afterward found that he could recall each detail of the scene with vivid distinctness. He was preoccupied and eager, but fully aware of the need for coolness, for it was quite possible that he might fail in the task he had in hand.

Presently he saw Evelyn, for whom he had been waiting, cross the opposite end of the terrace. Moving forward he joined her at the entrance to a shrubbery walk. A big, clipped yew with a recess in which a seat had been placed stood close by.