man, who would not hasten an old man to
his grave by cruelty and hard usage. This hope is at an end. There is
nothing left for me but to repent I ever came hither.'

'But, my dear madam, hearken. I would fain win your favour. I am not
one to make fair speeches, but I am not cruel. Right is right, and--'

'Mercy is mercy,' Bryda said. 'Good-day to you, sir. Flick, Flick!'

The dog was at her side in an instant. He gave an ominous growl as the
Squire tried to follow, and then Mr Bayfield stood like a statue on the
top step of the cracked flight and watched Bryda's light figure as it
passed under the sombre firs, Flick striding at her side as she walked
swiftly, at a pace which was nearly running, towards the white gates,
and then vanished out of sight.

The Squire clenched his teeth and muttered a string of oaths, turned
into the house, swallowed the contents of the silver mug at one draught,
and then sat down before the table, with its many pigeon-holes and
secret drawers, to curse his stupidity in allowing Bryda to depart
without another attempt to detain her.

She was so entirely different from any woman he had met. There was a
mingling of dignity and sweetness which he was not slow to recognise.
Her beauty was not her only attraction. He read in her clear eyes
purity, and strength of purpose in her round, determined chin, with its
slightly upward curve. David Bayfield felt ashamed of himself as he had
never felt before, and unable to settle to any business matters, he went
to the stable, saddled one of the horses, which had been eating off
their heads there since his father's death, and galloped at a furious
pace to Wells to consult his man of business there as to what steps
should be taken.

CHAPTER III

AN ELEGY.

Bryda had just reached the cross roads where she had met the Squire when
a heavy lumbering cart came slowly in sight, which she recognised as Mrs
Henderson's. If Jack was driving it, she would at once tell him what had
happened; but Jack was not likely to be driving at that snail pace.

It was Jack, however, indulging in a slumber as the old horse, who knew
his way in the district as well or better than his master, plodded
soberly along to his destination.

'Oh! it is Jack!' Bryda exclaimed. 'Jack, Jack, do stop!'

Jack Henderson opened his sleepy eyes and called 'Wo, wo!' to the horse.

'Oh, Jack, will you take me up, I am so tired and so--'

Jack brought his huge frame down into th