"And when I bring my wife, sir?" Eglington added, with a smile.

"When thee brings the lady, there will be occasion to consider--there
will be occasion then."

Eglington raised his hat, and turned back upon the path he and Faith had
travelled.

The old man stood watching him until he was out of view. Then he seemed
more himself. Still holding Faith's hand, he walked with her on the
gorse-covered hill towards the graveyard.

"Was it his heart spoke or his tongue--is there any truth in him?" he
asked at last.

Faith pressed his hand. "If he help Davy, father--"

"If he help Davy; ay, if he help Davy! Nay, I cannot go to the
graveyard, Faith. Take me home," he said with emotion.

His hand remained in hers. She had conquered. She was set upon a new
path of influence. Her hand was upon the door of his heart.

"Thee is good to me, Faith," he said, as they entered the door of the Red
Mansion.

She glanced over towards the Cloistered House. Smoke was coming from the
little chimney of the laboratory.