"Ay, verily thou hast!" answered Cuthbert warmly. "I have chidden
thee many a time before this for the meekness that raised no
protest let him be never so harsh. Thou hast done more than thy
share, sweet Petronella. None can blame thee for rebellious
thoughts or words. If he will none of our love or service, the
fault is his, not ours--thine least of all, for thou wast ever
gentle and meek."

"I have tried," repeated Petronella sadly; "and when thou hadst
gone and the tempest had something subsided, I tried as never
before to be a loving daughter, and make up to him for the loss of
his son. But he would have none of my love. He drove me from his
presence with bitter words. I had perforce to seek others, if I
were to live at all; and though he hurled taunts and harsh speeches
at me oftentimes, he did not forbid me that house, albeit he scarce
knew perchance how oft I was there, since he shut himself up more
and more, and sometimes saw me not from one week's end to the
other."

"What a lone life for thee, my sister!"

"Yes, it was lone, save for the comradeship of our cousins. But
that was better, far better, than what followed."

Cuthbert looked quickly at her, and his eyes darkened.

"And what did follow, Petronella?"

She bent her head a little, that he might not see the expression of