Her spirits suffered depression as she communed thus with herself; all the drearier aspects of her present life were emphasised; she longed, longed with aching of the heart for the day which should set her free for ever from these fears and sorrows.  Another secret would henceforth trouble her.  Would that it might remain a secret!  If Jessie indeed knew of this morning’s events, there was small likelihood that it would remain unknown to others; then the whole truth must be revealed.  Would it not be better to anticipate any such discovery, to tell her father this very day what had happened and why it was so painful to her?  Yet to speak of Dagworthy might make her father uneasy in his position at the mill—­would inevitably do so.  Therein lay a new dread.  Was Dagworthy capable of taking revenge upon her father?  Oh surely, surely not!—­The words passed her lips involuntarily.  She would not, she could not, believe so ill of him; had he not implored her to do him justice?...

When Mr. Hood returned from business on the following day, he brought news that Dagworthy had at last gone for his holiday.  It was time, he said; Dagworthy was not looking himself; at the mill they had been in mortal fear of one of his outbreaks.

‘Did he speak harshly to you, father?’ Emily was driven to ask, with very slight emphasis on the ‘you.’

‘Fortunately,’ was the reply, with the sad abortive laugh which was Mr. Hood’s nearest approach to mirth, ’fortunately he left me alone, and spoke neither well nor ill.  He didn’t look angry, I thought, so much as put out about something.’

Emily was relieved from one fear at least, and felt grateful to Dagworthy.  Moreover, by observation, she had concluded that Jessie could not possibly be aware of what had taken place in the garden.  And now Dagworthy was likely to be away for three weeks.  Her heart was lighter again.

CHAPTER IX

CIRCUMSTANCE

Dagworthy was absent not quite a fortnight, and he returned looking anything but the better for his holiday.  The wholesome colour of his cheeks had changed almost to sallowness those who met him in Dunfield looked at him with surprise and asked what illness he had been suffering.  At the mill, they did not welcome his re-appearance; his temper was worse than it had been since the ever-memorable week which witnessed his prosecution for assault and battery.  At home, the servants did their best to keep out of his way, warned by Mrs. Jenkins.  She, good woman, had been rash enough to bring the child into the dining-room whilst Dagworthy was refreshing himself with a biscuit and a glass of wine upon his arrival; in a minute or two she retreated in high wrath.

‘Let him dom me, if he loikes,’ she went away exclaiming; ’ah’m ovver auld to care much abaht such fond tantrums; but when he gets agaate o’ dommin his awn barn, it fair maaks my teeth dither ageean.  The lad’s aht on his ‘eead.’