They walked side by side over the heather, towards the beginning of a wood, young fir trees mingling with gorse and bracken. Beyond was the dense foliage of older growths. He had again taken one of her hands, and so led her on. 'Emily!' She was able to look into his face for a moment, but the moving of her lips gave no sound. 'I could not sleep,' he went on, 'so I read of you till dawn in the Knightes Tale. It is a name I have always loved, sweet, musical, but of deep meaning. Will you not let me hear you speak, Emily?' She uttered a few timid words, then they passed on in silence till the wood was all about them. 'May I tell you the plan which I have made in the night?' he said, as they stood on a spot of smooth turf, netted with sunlight. 'You leave us in two days. Before we start for London, I shall speak with my father, and tell him what has come about. You remember what I was saying about him the day before yesterday; perhaps it was with a half-thought of this--so daring I was, you see! I have no fear of his kindness, his good sense. At the same time, it is right you should know that my independence is assured; my grandfather left me far more than enough for mere needs. By the summer of next year I shall be free of Oxford. I care little now for such honours as those; you have honoured me more than any other voice has power to do. But my father would be disappointed if I did not go on to the end, and do something of what is expected. Now you must tell me freely is there absolute necessity for your maintaining yourself in the meanwhile, for your leaving home?' 'There is,' she replied. 'Then will you continue to teach the children as usual?' She was touched with apprehension. 'Gladly I would do so--but is it possible? Would you conceal from Mrs. Rossall--' Wilfrid mused. 'I meant to. But your instincts are truer than mine; say what you think. I believe my father would countenance it, for it involves no real deceit.' 'If you wish it,' Emily said, after a silence, in a low voice. 'Of my aunt,' pursued Wilfrid, 'I have just this degree of doubt. She might make difficulties; her ways of thinking differ often from ours. Yet it is far better that you should continue to live with us. I myself shall scarcely ever be at home; it will not be as if I dwelt under the roof; I will make my visits as short as possible, not to trouble you. I could not let you go to the house of other people--you to lack consideration, perhaps to meet unkindness! Rather than that, you shall stay in your own home, or I will not return to Oxford at all.' Emily stood in anxious thought. He drew a step nearer to her; seemed about to draw nearer still, but checked himself as she looked up. 'I fear we must not do that,' she said. 'Mrs. Rossall would not forgive me.' Woman's judgment of woman, and worth much more than Wilfrid's rough and ready scheming. Wilfrid smiled.