’You wanted to know why I interfered the other night as I did; and I promised, I believe, to explain it to you when I had an opportunity.  I will, if you bid me; but I may do the people injustice, and I would rather you took the view of an unprejudiced person—­Mr. Falkirk, for instance.  But if you wish it, I will tell you myself.’

‘No,’ she said; ‘I do not wish it.’

Rollo was quite as willing to let the matter drop; and in a few minutes more they were at the mill he had proposed to visit.  There they dismounted, the horses were sent on to the bend in the valley, beyond the mills; and presenting a pass, Rollo and Wych Hazel were admitted into the building, where strangers rarely came.  One of the men in authority was known to Mr. Rollo; he presented himself now, and with much civility ushered them through the works.

They made a slow progress of it; full of interest, because full of intelligent appreciation.  Perhaps, in the abstract, one would not expect to find a gay young man of the world versed in the intricacies of a cotton mill; but however it were, Rollo had studied the subject, and was now bent on making Wych hazel understand all the beautiful details of the machinery and the curiosities of the manufacture.  This was a new view of him to his companion.  He took endless pains to make her familiar with the philosophy of the subject, as well as its history.  Patient and gentle and evidently not in the least thinking of himself, his grey eyes were ever searching in Wych Hazel’s face to see whether she comprehended and how she enjoyed what he was giving her.  As to the relations between them, his manner all the while, as well as during the ride, was very much what it had been before the disclosure made by Mrs. Coles had sent Wych Hazel off on a tangent of alienation from him.  Nothing could exceed the watch kept over her, or the care taken of her; and neither could make less demonstration.  There was also the same quiet assumption of her, which had been in his manner for so long; that also was never officiously displayed, though never wanting when there was occasion.  And now, in the mill, all these went along with that courtier-like deference of style, which paid her all the honour that manner could; yet it was the deference of one very near and not of one far off.

Wych Hazel for her part shewed abundant power of interest and of understanding, in their progress through the mill; quick to catch explanations, quick to see the beauty of some fine bit of machinery; but very quiet.  Her eyes hardly ever rose to the level of his; her questions were a little more free to the conductor than to him.  Even her words and smiles to the mill people seemed to wait for times when his back was turned, as if she were shy of in any wise displaying herself before him.