“You are very high and mighty, my lady,” he said to himself one day, as he drove homewards in his handsome dog-cart, “but I’ll give you something to think of before long.” A few days afterwards he walked into Frank’s cottage in the afternoon, to Kate’s great astonishment. “Was just riding by, Mrs. Frank, and thought I would come in to have a chat.” “Thank you,” Kate said, “but I’m particularly busy to-day.” “Oh, don’t mind me, Mrs. Frank. I’m no stranger, you know.” “I wish you were,” Kate muttered, half audibly. “I wanted to talk to you about Frank. You see this life is a very hard one for him, and it is greatly to be wished that something could be done for him.” “It is not I that make it hard for him,” Kate said, pointedly. “I have broken no promises. I didn’t tempt him to come down here, and then make him work almost like a common navvy.” “No, quite so, Mrs. Frank,” Fred said, composedly. “But that is not now to the point. What I was thinking of, is, could not this unfortunate quarrel between Frank and his uncle be made up?” Kate looked full at him with her honest eyes. “I expect, Mr. Bingham, you know more of the quarrel than we do.” Fred Bingham coloured a little. “I suppose we both know pretty well all about it, Mrs. Frank. It has been a most unfortunate circumstance, but I should think that Captain Bradshaw by this time would be able to make allowances and to overlook the past.” Kate rose from her seat, her little figure looking grand in its indignation. “I don’t know what you mean, Fred Bingham; but if you mean that Frank has done anything which requires to be forgiven, or looked over, you’re telling a lie, and I, Frank’s wife, tell you so.” “What?” Fred Bingham said, in tones of surprise; “has Frank really kept you in ignorance all this time of the cause of quarrel? I always thought you were the most forgiving of women, but I see now by your manner that you do not know.” “I know all that Frank knows,” Kate said; “and that is just nothing.” “Really I am sorry,” Fred Bingham began; “because if you are in ignorance of this sad affair, it makes it so much the more difficult to make it up with Captain Bradshaw; but I think that if you did but know it you might be able to act as mediator, and I feel sure my uncle could not bear malice any longer. I do so wish to see things made up, that if you will promise solemnly to keep it a secret, painful as it is, I will tell you the real cause of quarrel. You see——”