Reading this, Sylvia had the sense of listening to an echo.  Some of the phrases recalled to her quite a different voice from Sidwell’s.  She smiled and mused.

On the morning appointed for her journey to Exeter Sidwell rose early, and in unusually good spirits.  Mrs. Warricombe was less animated by the prospect of five hours in a railway carriage, for London had a covering of black snow, and it seemed likely that more would fall.  Martin suggested postponement, but circumstances made this undesirable.

‘Let Fanny go with me,’ proposed Sidwell, just after breakfast.  ’I can see to everything perfectly well, mother.’

But Fanny hastened to decline.  She was engaged for a dance on the morrow.

‘Then I’ll run down with you myself, Sidwell,’ said her father.

Mrs. Warricombe looked at the weather and hesitated.  There were strong reasons why she should go, and they determined her to brave discomforts.

It chanced that the morning post had brought Mr. Warricombe a letter from Godwin Peak.  It was a reply to one that he had written with Christmas greetings; a kindness natural in him, for he had remembered that the young man was probably hard at work in his lonely lodgings.  He spoke of it privately to his wife.

’A very good letter—­thoughtful and cheerful.  You’re not likely to see him, but if you happen to, say a pleasant word.’

‘I shouldn’t have written, if I were you,’ remarked Mrs. Warricombe.

’Why not?  I was only thinking the other day that he contrasted very favourably with the younger generation as we observe it here.  Yes, I have faith in Peak.  There’s the right stuff in him.’

’Oh, I daresay.  But still’——­

And Mrs. Warricombe went away with an air of misgiving.

CHAPTER V

In volunteering a promise not to inform her brother of Peak’s singular position, Marcella spoke with sincerity.  She was prompted by incongruous feelings—­a desire to compel Godwin’s gratitude, and disdain of the circumstances in which she had discovered him.  There seemed to be little likelihood of Christian’s learning from any other person that she had met with Peak at Budleigh Salterton; he had, indeed, dined with her at the Walworths’, and might improve his acquaintance with that family, but it was improbable that they would ever mention in his hearing the stranger who had casually been presented to them, or indeed ever again think of him.  If she held her peace, the secret of Godwin’s retirement must still remain impenetrable.  He would pursue his ends as hitherto, thinking of her, if at all, as a weak woman who had immodestly betrayed a hopeless passion, and who could be trusted never to wish him harm.