f course that a discussion was in progress
between his father and his aunt, and calm waiting upon other people's
decisions was not in his nature. He came forward and seated himself.

'I gather from your look, aunt,' he began, when the others did not seem
disposed to break silence, 'that you take my father's view of what he
has been telling you.'

'I am not sure what your father's view is,' was Mrs. Rossall's reply,
given very coldly. 'But I certainly think you have proposed what is
impossible.'

'Yes, you are right,' rejoined Wilfrid, to the surprise of both. 'The
plan was not well considered. Pray think no more of it.'

'What do you substitute?' his father inquired, after another long
silence.

'I cannot say.' He paused, then continued with some emotion, 'I would
gladly have had your sympathy. Perhaps I fail to see the whole matter in
the same light as yourselves, but it seems to me that in the step I have
taken there is nothing that should cause lasting difference between us.
I involve the family in no kind of disgrace--that, I suppose, you
admit?'

Mrs. Rossall made no answer. Mr. Athel moved uneasily upon his chair,
coughed, seemed about to speak, but in the end said nothing.

'I am afraid I shall not be able to leave England with you,' continued
Wilfrid, rising. 'But that fortunately need cause no change in your
plans.'

Mr. Athel was annoyed at his sister's behaviour. He had looked to her
for mediation; clearly she would offer nothing of the kind. She was
wrapping herself in a cloak of offended dignity; she had withdrawn from
the debate.

'Come with me to my room,' he said moving from his chair.

'I think it will be better to have no further discussion, Wilfrid
replied firmly, 'at all events to-night.'

'As you please,' said his father, shortly.

He went from the room, and Wilfrid, without further speech to his aunt,
presently followed.

CHAPTER V

THE SHADOW OF HOME

The house which was the end of Emily's journey was situated two miles
outside the town of Dunfield, on the high road going southward, just
before it enters upon a rising tract of common land known as the Heath.
It was one of a row of two-storied dwellings, built of glazed brick,
each with a wide projecting window on the right hand of the front door,
and with a patch of garden railed in from the road, the row being part
of a straggling colony which is called Banbrigg. Immediately opposite
these houses stood an ecclesiastic