And father and daughter cried together, like two happy children, in
very excess of gladness. They had met alone, but Mrs. Dinneford came
in, her presence falling on them like a cold shadow.

"Two great babies," she said, a covert sneer in her chilling voice.

The joy went slowly out of their faces, though not out of their
hearts. There it nestled, and warmed the renewing blood. But a
vague, questioning fear began to creep in, a sense of insecurity, a
dread of hidden danger. The daughter did not fully trust her mother,
nor the husband his wife.






CHAPTER II.





_THE_ reception of young Granger was as cordial as Mrs. Dinneford
chose to make it. She wanted to get near enough to study his
character thoroughly, to discover its weaknesses and defects, not
its better qualities, so that she might do for him the evil work
that was in her heart. She hated him with a bitter hatred, and there
is nothing so subtle and tireless and unrelenting as the hatred of a