. Father knows him, I think.
D. T."

A dead silence followed the reading of the letter. Joan sat upright
with a troubled face. She had been washing the dinner dishes; the
towel lay across her lap, and her fingers pleated and unpleated the
bit of coarse linen. John laid his arms across his knees and dropped
a stern face toward them. The bit of white paper was in his big brown
fingers. He did not speak a word; his heart was full, his eyes were
full, his tongue was heavy and dumb. Joan grew restless and hot with
anger, for she was wounded in every sense.

"Aw, my dear, she be so happy with that man she do forget the days she
was happy with you and me, John. She do forget all and everything. Aw,
then, 'tis a cruel, thoughtless letter. Cruel beyond words to
tell--dreadful! aw, dreadful! God help us! And I do wish I could
forget her! And I do be sorry she was ever born."

"Whist! whist! my old dear. She has gone into the wilderness. Our one
little ewe lamb has gone into the wilderness, and aw, my dear, 'twill
keep us busy all night and day to send love and prayer enough after
her. There be wolves there, Joan; wolves, my dear, ready to
devour--and the man she loves, he be one of them. Poor little Denas!"

Then Joan went on with her housework, but John sat silent, bending
down toward the letter. And by and by his white face glowed with a
dull red colour, and he tore the letter up, tore it very slowly into
narrow ribbon-like strips, and let them fall, one by one, at his feet.
He was in a mood Joan did not care to trouble. It reminded her of the
day when he had felled Jacob Trenager. She was glad to see him rise
and go to the inner room, glad to hear that he bolted the door after
him. For in that temper it was better that John should complain to God
than talk with any human being.

CHAPTER X.

A VISIT TO ST. PENFER.

"Oh, waly waly, but love be bonny
A little while while it is new;
But when 'tis auld it waxeth cauld
And fades away like morning dew."
--OLD SONG.

"Oh, and is all forgot--
All school days' friendship, childhood's innocence?

. . . . . . . . . .

Our sex as well as I may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury."
--SHAKESPEARE.

Denasia made her _debut_ in the last ten days of January, and she
retained the favour of that public which frequented Willis Hall for
three months.