"How do I find thee in this company, Faith?" There was reproach
unutterable in his voice, in his face. He seemed humiliated and shamed,
though all the while a violent spirit in him was struggling for the
mastery.

"As I came this way to visit my sister's grave I met my lord by the mill.
He spoke to me, and, as I wished a favour of him, I walked with him
thither--but a little way. I was going to visit my sister's grave."

"Thy sister's grave!" The fire flamed up again, but the masterful will
chilled it down, and he answered: "What secret business can thee have
with any of that name which I have cast out of knowledge or notice?"

Ignorant as he was of the old man's cause for quarrel or dislike,
Eglington felt himself aggrieved, and, therefore, with an advantage.

"You had differences with my father, sir," he said. "I do not know what
they were, but they lasted his lifetime, and all my life you have treated
me with aversion. I am not a pestilence. I have never wronged you.
I have lived your peaceful neighbour under great provocation, for your
treatment would have done me harm if my place were less secure. I think
I have cause for complaint."

"I have never acted in haste concerning thee, or those who went before
thee. What business had thee with him, Faith?" he asked again. His
voice was dry and hard.

Her impulse was to tell the truth, and so for ever have her conscience
clear, for there would never be any more need for secrecy. The wheel of
understanding between Eglington and herself had come full circle, and