ould add not a cubit to his stature. If he had such a thing by
right"--his voice hardened, his eyes grew angry once again--"I would
wish it sunk into the sea."

"You are hard on us, sir, who did not give ourselves our titles, but
took them with our birth as a matter of course. There was nothing
inspiring in them. We became at once distinguished and respectable by
patent."

He laughed good-humouredly. Then suddenly he changed, and his eyes took
on a far-off look which Faith had seen so often in the eyes of David,
but in David's more intense and meaning, and so different. With what
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."

"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 grave