ight and Grace admitted
he had some grounds. Although her brother was indolent and
philosophical, he did not forget. Rude disputes jarred him, but if by
some chance he was able to injure the other, Grace thought he would do
so. Grace, herself, strongly disapproved of Cartwright. All the same, he
was her step-father and she had tried to cultivate her sense of duty.
She was prejudiced, cold, and censorious, but she meant to be just and
did not like Mortimer's bitterness.

Cartwright was occupied for some time at Montreal, and the birch leaves
had fallen when he returned. The evening was dark, and chilly mist
rolled down the dale, but a big fire burned in the hall at Carrock and
tall lamps threw a cheerful light on the oak paneling. A flooded beck
roared in the hollow of a ghyll across the lawn and its turmoil echoed
about the hall. Mrs. Cartwright stood by the fire, Grace moved
restlessly about, and Mortimer appeared to be absorbed by the morning's
news.

"I wish you would sit down, mother," he said presently. "You can hear
the car, you know, and the train is often late."

For a few minutes Mrs. Cartwright did not move, and then she started and
fixed her eyes on the door. She heard an engine throb, there was a noise
in the porch, and a cold wind blew into the room. Then the door opened
and Cartwright entered, shaking the damp from his fur coat. He turned,
beckoning somebody behind, and Barbara came out from the arch. Her face
was flushed, her eyes were hard, and she stopped irresolutely. Mortimer
advanced to take the coat she carried and Grace crossed the floor, but
Barbara waited, as if she did not see them. Then her strained look
vanished, for Mrs. Cartwright went forward with awkward speed and took
her in her arms.

Cartwright saw his wife had forgotten him, and turning to the others
with a commanding gesture, drove them and the servants from the hall.
When they had gone he gave Mrs. Cartwright a smile.

"I've brought her back," he said. "Not altogether an easy job. Barbara's
ridiculous, but she can fight."

He went off and Barbara clung to her mother. She was shaking and her
breath came hard.

"You were ridiculous," said Mrs. Cartwright in a gentle voice. "I expect
you were very obstinate. But he was kind?"

"He's a dear; I love him!" Barbara replied. "He understands everything.
I think he ought to have stopped at Liverpool; the secretary met us and
talked about some business, but if he hadn't come with me,