‘With all my heart,’ he said; and it was manifest from his tone that he had no thought of her happiness as he spoke.  It was true that she had been angry with him—­angry, as she had herself declared; but nevertheless, in what she had said and what she had done, she had thought more of his happiness than of her own.  Now she was angry once again.

’With all your heart, Captain Broughton!  Well, so be it.  If with all your heart, then is the necessity so much the greater.  You go tomorrow.  Shall we say farewell now?’

‘Patience, I am not going to be lectured.’

‘Certainly not by me.  Shall we say farewell now?’

‘Yes, if you are determined.’

’I am determined.  Farewell, Captain Broughton.  You have all my wishes for your happiness.’  And she held out her hand to him.

‘Patience!’ he said.  And he looked at her with a dark frown, as though he would strive to frighten her into submission.  If so, he might have saved himself any such attempt.

‘Farewell, Captain Broughton.  Give me your hand, for I cannot stay.’  He gave her his hand, hardly knowing why he did so.  She lifted it to her lips and kissed it, and then, leaving him, passed from the summer-house down through the wicket-gate, and straight home to the parsonage.

During the whole of that day she said no word to anyone of what had occurred.  When she was once more at home she went about her household affairs as she had done on that day of his arrival.  When she sat down to dinner with her father he observed nothing to make him think that she was unhappy, nor during the evening was there any expression in her face, or any tone in her voice, which excited his attention.  On the following morning Captain Broughton called at the parsonage, and the servant-girl brought word to her mistress that he was in the parlour.  But she would not see him.  ’Laws miss, you ain’t a quarrelled with your beau?’ the poor girl said.  ‘No, not quarrelled,’ she said; ’but give him that.’  It was a scrap of paper containing a word or two in pencil.  ’It is better that we should not meet again.  God bless you.’  And from that day to this, now more than ten years, they have never met.

‘Papa,’ she said to her father that afternoon, ’dear papa, do not be angry with me.  It is all over between me and John Broughton.  Dearest, you and I will not be separated.’

It would be useless here to tell how great was the old man’s surprise and how true his sorrow.  As the tale was told to him no cause was given for anger with anyone.  Not a word was spoken against the suitor who had on that day returned to London with a full conviction that now at least he was relieved from his engagement.  ‘Patty, my darling child,’ he said, ‘may God grant that it be for the best!’

‘It is for the best,’ she answered stoutly.  ’For this place I am fit; and I much doubt whether I am fit for any other.’

On that day she did not see Miss Le Smyrger, but on the following morning, knowing that Captain Broughton had gone off,—­having heard the wheels of the carriage as they passed by the parsonage gate on his way to the station,—­she walked up to the Colne.