‘Not silly also, I hope?’

‘Anything but that.  I should say she is very clever.’

‘I’m afraid you don’t like her, Will.’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes; really.’

‘And did she take your coming well?’

‘Very well.  I think she is much obliged to me for going.’

‘And Mr Amedroz?’

‘He liked my coming too very much.’

’What after that cold letter?

’Yes, indeed.  I shall explain it all by degrees.  I have taken a lease of all the land, and I’m to go back at Christmas; and as to the old gentleman he’d have me live there altogether if I would.’

‘Why, Will?’

’Is it not odd?  I’m so glad I didn’t make up my mind not to go when I got that letter.  And yet I don’t know.’  These last words he added slowly, and in a low voice, and Mary at once knew that everything was not quite as it ought to be.

‘Is there anything wrong, Will?’

’No, nothing wrong; that is to say, there is nothing to make me regret that I went.  I think I did some good to them.’

‘It was to do good to them that you went there.’

’They wanted to have some one near them who could be to them as one of their own family.  He is too old too much worn out to be capable of managing things; and the people there were, of course, robbing him.  I think I have put a stop to that.’

‘And you are to go again at Christmas?’

’Yes; they can do without me at my uncle’s, and you will be there.  I have taken the land, and already bought some of the stock for it, and am going to buy more.’

‘I hope you won’t lose money, Will.’

’No not ultimately, that is.  I shall get the place in good condition, and I shall have paid myself when he goes, in that way, if in no other.  Besides, what’s a little money?  I owe it to them for robbing her of her inheritance.’

‘You do not rob her, Will.’

‘It is hard upon her, though.’

‘Does she feel it hard?’

’Whatever may be her feelings on such a matter, she is a woman much too proud to show them.’

‘I wish I knew whether you liked her or not.’

’I do like her I love her better than any one in the world; better even than you, Mary; for I have asked her to be my wife.’

‘Oh, Will!’

’And she has refused me.  Now you know the whole of it the whole history of what I have done while I have been away.’  And he stood up before her, with his thumbs thrust into the arm-holes of his waistcoat, with something serious and almost solemn in his gait, in spite of a smile which played about his mouth.

‘Oh, Will!’

’I meant to have told you, of course, Mary to have told you everything; but I did not mean to tell it to-night; only it has somehow fallen from me.  Out of the full heart the mouth speaks, they say.’

‘I never can like her if she refuses your love.’