deftness and diplomacy had he worked upon her father! He had crossed a
stream which seemed impassable by adroit, insincere diplomacy.

She saw that it was time to go, while yet Eglington's disparagement of
rank and aristocracy was ringing in the old man's ears; though she knew
there was nothing in Eglington's equipment he valued more than his title
and the place it gave him. Grateful, however, for his successful
intervention, Faith now held out her hand.

"I must take my father away, or it will be sunset before we reach the
Meeting-house," she said. "Goodbye-friend," she added gently.

For an instant Luke Claridge stared at her, scarce comprehending that his
movements were being directed by any one save himself. Truth was, Faith
had come to her cross-roads in life. For the first time in her memory
she had seen her father speak to an Eglington without harshness; and, as
he weakened for a moment, she moved to take command of that weakness,
though she meant it to seem like leading. While loving her and David
profoundly, her father had ever been quietly imperious. If she could but
gain ascendency even in a little, it might lead to a more open book of
life for them both.

Eglington held out his hand to the old man. "I have kept you too long,
sir. Good-bye--if you will."

The offered hand was not taken, but Faith slid hers into the old man's
palm, and pressed it, and he said quietly to Eglington:

"Good evening, friend."