Then, Beatrice, have your will, sow your seed of tears, and take your chance. You may find that you were right and the worldlings wrong, and you may reap a harvest beyond the grasp of their poor imaginations. And if you find that they are right and _you_ are wrong, what will it matter to you who sleep? For of this at least you are sure. If there is no future for such earthly love as yours, then indeed there is none for the children of this world and all their troubling. CHAPTER XXIV. LADY HONORIA TAKES THE FIELD Geoffrey hurried to the Vicarage to fetch his baggage and say good-bye. He had no time for breakfast, and he was glad of it, for he could not have eaten a morsel to save his life. He found Elizabeth and her father in the sitting-room. “Why, where have you been this wet morning, Mr. Bingham?” said Mr. Granger. “I have been for a walk with Miss Beatrice; she is coming home by the village,” he answered. “I don’t mind rain, and I wanted to get as much fresh air as I could before I go back to the mill. Thank you—only a cup of tea—I will get something to eat as I go.” “How kind of him,” reflected Mr. Granger; “no doubt he has been speaking to Beatrice again about Owen Davies.” “Oh, by the way,” he added aloud, “did you happen to hear anybody moving in the house last night, Mr. Bingham, just when the storm was at its height? First of all a door slammed so violently that I got up to see what it was, and as I came down the passage I could almost have sworn that I saw something white go into the spare room. But my candle went out and by the time that I had found a light there was nothing to be seen.” “A clear case of ghosts,” said Geoffrey indifferently. It was indeed a “case of ghosts,” and they would, he reflected, haunt him for many a day. “How very odd,” put in Elizabeth vivaciously, her keen eyes fixed intently on his face. “Do you know I thought that I twice saw the door of our room open and shut in the most mysterious fashion. I think that Beatrice must have something to do with it; she is so uncanny in her ways.” Geoffrey never moved a muscle, he was trained to keep his countenance. Only he wondered how much this woman knew. She must be silenced somehow. “Excuse me for changing the subject,” he said, “but my time is short, and I have none to spare to hunt the ‘Vicarage Ghost.’ By the way, there’s a good title for somebody. Mr. Granger, I believe that I may speak of business matters before Miss Elizabeth?” “Certainly, Mr. Bingham,” said the clergyman; “Elizabeth is my right hand, and has the best business head in Bryngelly.” Geoffrey thought that this was very evident, and went on. “I only want to say this. If you get into any further difficulties with your rascally tithe-payers, mind and let me know. I shall always be glad to help you while I can. And now I must be going.”