Grace made an impatient gesture.  “Our men could have done nothing useful if they had been left alone, and the others wouldn’t have helped if you had not persuaded them.  Why did you?”

“To some extent, my object was selfish.  If the flood had broken through, it might have done much damage to all the crops, besides your father’s.”

“It could not have damaged yours.”

“Oh, well,” said Kit, “I hate to see things spoiled, and am afraid I’m meddlesome.”

Grace’s color rose, but she fixed her eyes on him.  “That is not kind; I hardly think it’s just.  I have not accused you of meddling.”

“No,” said Kit; “I’m sorry!  It was a stupid remark.  But I expect you know what your father thinks.”

Grace was silent for a few moments.  She did know and would rather not have met Kit, but was too proud to turn back.  Besides, she felt her father was prejudiced, and although it was a family tradition that the Osborns stood together, she rebelled and wanted to be just.  The situation was embarrassing, but there was no use in pretense.

“I think you were generous and imagine my mother agrees,” she said.  “She wanted to send some lunch to the beck, but the rain was very heavy and there was nobody to go.”  Then, remembering something Osborn had said, she hesitated.  “I understand your helpers were paid.”

“Oh, yes,” said Kit, not with malice, but because he saw he must be frank.  “I was not left out.”

Grace turned her head.  This was worse than she had thought.  She was angry, and would not let Kit think she approved.  Her eyes sparkled as she looked up.  “Ah,” she said, “you deserved something very different!  I wish you had not told me!”

“I didn’t tell you because I was hurt,” Kit replied with grave quietness.  “It looks as if we had got to face things.  Your father thinks me his enemy.  I’m not; I have never tried to injure him, and if the dyke was threatened by another flood, I believe I’d mend it.  But, whatever happens, I mean to do what I think proper, and it’s possible we may clash again.”

“Yes,” said Grace.  “I am afraid this may happen.”

“Well, I value your friendship and don’t mean to give it up, but I can’t pretend, and think you wouldn’t be deceived if I tried.”

“You mean you would not do what you thought was shabby in order to avoid a clash?”

“I mean something like that.  Now you know how things are, you must choose your line.  I can’t judge how far your duty to your parents binds you; you can.”

Grace felt her heart beat and was silent for a moment or two.

“I cannot criticize my father’s deeds and agree with people who are opposed to him,” she said.  “All the same, unless he expressly orders it, I cannot give up my friends.”

Kit tried to hide his satisfaction.  “We’ll let it go; I understand!”

He expected her to move away, and wondered whether it was tactful for him to stop, but to his surprise she smiled and sat down on the bridge.