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with his eyes； and perhaps envied them their youth and love；
and across the Ivy beck where the mill was splashing and
grumbling low thunder to itself in the chequered shadow of
the dell； and the miller before the door was beating flour
from his hands as he whistled a modulation； and up by the
high spinney； whence they saw the mountains upon either hand；
and down the hill again to the back courts and offices of
Naseby House。 Esther had kept ahead all the way； and Dick
plodded obediently in her wake； but as they neared the
stables； he pushed on and took the lead。 He would have
preferred her to await him in the road while he went on and
brought the carriage back； but after so many repulses and
rebuffs he lacked courage to offer the suggestion。 Perhaps；
too； he felt it wiser to keep his convoy within sight。 So
they entered the yard in Indian file； like a tramp and his
wife。
The grooms eyebrows rose as he received the order for the
pony…phaeton； and kept rising during all his preparations。
Esther stood bolt upright and looked steadily at some
chickens in the corner of the yard。 Master Richard himself；
thought the groom； was not in his ordinary； for in truth； he
carried the hand…bag like a talisman； and either stood
listless； or set off suddenly walking in one direction after
another with brisk； decisive footsteps。 Moreover he had
apparently neglected to wash his hands； and bore the air of
one returning from a prolonged nutting ramble。 Upon the
groom's countenance there began to grow up an expression as
of one about to whistle。 And hardly had the carriage turned
the corner and rattled into the high road with this
inexplicable pair； than the whistle broke forth … prolonged；
and low and tremulous； and the groom； already so far
relieved； vented the rest of his surprise in one simple
English word； friendly to the mouth of Jack…tar and the sooty
pitman； and hurried to spread the news round the servants'
hall of Naseby House。 Luncheon would be on the table in
little beyond an hour； and the Squire； on sitting down； would
hardly fail to ask for Master Richard。 Hence； as the
intelligent reader can foresee； this groom has a part to play
in the imbroglio。
Meantime； Dick had been thinking deeply and bitterly。 It
seemed to him as if his love had gone from him； indeed； yet
gone but a little way； as if he needed but to find the right
touch or intonation； and her heart would recognise him and be
melted。 Yet he durst not open his mouth； and drove in
silence till they had passed the main park…gates and turned
into the cross…cut lane along the wall。 Then it seemed to
him as if it must be now； or never。
'Can't you see you are killing me？' he cried。 'Speak to me；
look at me； treat me like a human man。'
She turned slowly and looked him in the face with eyes that
seemed kinder。 He dropped the reins and caught her hand； and
she made no resistance； although her touch was unresponsive。
But when； throwing one arm round her waist； he sought to kiss
her lips； not like a lover indeed； not because he wanted to
do so； but as a desperate man who puts his fortunes to the
touch； she drew away from him； with a knot in her forehead；
backed and shied about fiercely with her head； and pushed him
from her with her hand。 Then there was no room left for
doubt； and Dick saw； as clear as sunlight； that she had a
distaste or nourished a grudge against him。
'Then you don't love me？' he said； drawing back from her； he
also； as though her touch had burnt him； and then； as she
made no answer； he repeated with another intonation；
imperious and yet still pathetic； 'You don't love me； DO you；
DO you？'
'I don't know；' she replied。 'Why do you ask me？ Oh； how
should I know？ It has all been lies together … lies； and
lies； and lies！'
He cried her name sharply； like a man who has taken a
physical hurt； and that was the last word that either of them
spoke until they reached Thymebury Junction。
This was a station isolated in the midst of moorlands； yet
lying on the great up line to London。 The nearest town；
Thymebury itself； was seven miles distant along the branch
they call the Vale of Thyme Railway。 It was now nearly half
an hour past noon； the down train had just gone by； and there
would be no more traffic at the junction until half…past
three； when the local train comes in to meet the up express
at a quarter before four。 The stationmaster had already gone
off to his garden； which was half a mile away in a hollow of
the moor； a porter； who was just leaving； took charge of the
phaeton； and promised to return it before night to Naseby
House； only a deaf； snuffy； and stern old man remained to
play propriety for Dick and Esther。
Before the phaeton had driven off； the girl had entered the
station and seated herself upon a bench。 The endless； empty
moorlands stretched before her； entirely unenclosed； and with
no boundary but the horizon。 Two lines of rails； a waggon
shed； and a few telegraph posts； alone diversified the
outlook。 As for sounds； the silence was unbroken save by the
chant of the telegraph wires and the crying of the plovers on
the waste。 With the approach of midday the wind had more and
more fallen； it was now sweltering hot and the air trembled
in the sunshine。
Dick paused for an instant on the threshold of the platform。
Then； in two steps； he was by her side and speaking almost
with a sob。
'Esther；' he said； 'have pity on me。 What have I done？ Can
you not forgive me？ Esther； you loved me once … can you not
love me still？'
'How can I tell you？ How am I to know？' she answered。 'You
are all a lie to me … all a lie from first to last。 You were
laughing at my folly； playing with me like a child； at the
very time when you declared you loved me。 Which was true？
was any of it true？ or was it all； all a mockery？ I am weary
trying to find out。 And you say I loved you； I loved my
father's friend。 I never loved； I never heard of； you； until
that man came home and I began to find myself deceived。 Give
me back my father； be what you were before； and you may talk
of love indeed！'
'Then you cannot forgive me … cannot？' he asked。
'I have nothing to forgive；' she answered。 'You do not
understand。'
'Is that your last word； Esther？' said he； very white； and
biting his lip to keep it still。
'Yes； that is my last word；' replied she。
'Then we are here on false pretences； and we stay here no
longer；' he said。 'Had you still loved me； right or wrong； I
should have taken you away； because then I could have made
you happy。 But as it is … I must speak plainly … what you
propose is degrading to you； and an insult to me； and a rank
unkindness to your father。 Your father may be this or that；
but you should use him like a fellow…creature。'
'What do you mean？' she flashed。 'I leave him my house and
all my money； it is more than he deserves。 I wonder you dare
speak to me about that man。 And besides； it is all he cares
for； let him take it； and let me never hear from him again。'
'I thought you romantic about fathers；' he said。
'Is that a taunt？' she demanded。
'No；' he replied； 'it is an argument。 No one can make you
like him； but don't disgrace him in his own eyes。 He is old；
Esther； old and broken down。 Even I am sorry for him； and he
has been the loss of all I cared for。 Write to your aunt；
when I see her answer you can leave quietly and naturally；
and I will take you to your aunt's door。 But in the meantime
you must go home。 You have no money； and so you are
helpless； and must do as I tell you； and believe me； Esther；
I do all for your good； and your good only； so God help me。'
She had put her hand into her pocket and withdrawn it empty。
'I counted upon you；' she wailed。
'You counted rightly then；' he retorted。 'I will not； to
please you for a moment； make