Affairs at the farm had gone on uncomfortably from the moment Dick Crawshay expressed displeasure with his niece. She made what advances she could towards reconciliation; but she did not yet offer any explanation. He was obliged to accept her customary service as secretary; but it was evident that he would have liked to dispense with it. Neither his appetite nor his slumbers were disturbed, however; and he slept soundly through the night whilst the fire was raging at the Manor. It was not until the wain with its load of milk-cans had started for the station that he heard from Jerry Mogridge the report of what had occurred. Then yeoman Dick mounted his horse and rode at full speed to Ringsford to offer what help it might be in his power to render, grumbling at himself all the way for not having been sooner aware of his neighbour’s danger. Finding Mr Hadleigh in the gardener’s cottage, where there was want of space and convenience, the farmer with impetuous hospitality invited the whole family to Willowmere. The invalid could not be removed until the doctor gave permission; but Caroline and Bertha were at once escorted to the farm. Miss Hadleigh remained at the cottage to assist the housekeeper in nursing her father: she was moved to do so by a sense of duty as well as by the knowledge that Alfred Crowell would come out as soon as he heard of the disaster, and he would expect to find her there. In the bustle and excitement of the first part of the day there was only one person who thought much about Philip and of the effect this new calamity might have upon him in his present state. As the afternoon advanced, everybody was wondering why he neither came nor sent any message. The arrival of Pansy relieved Madge on this and other points; and she was happily spared for that night the pain of learning that Philip did visit the gardener’s cottage without calling at Willowmere. Postman Zachy delivered two welcome letters in the cold gray light of the winter morning. Both were from Austin Shield—one for Mrs Crawshay, the other for Madge. The first simply stated that his old friend might expect to see him in a few days, and that he believed she would have reason to give him the kindly greeting which he knew she would like to give him. The second was longer and contained important information. ‘Be patient and trust me still,’ it said. ‘You have fixed the week as the limit of your silence: before the time is out I shall be at Willowmere. Philip has acted in every way as I would have him act under the circumstances, except in the extreme mercy which he extends to the man Wrentham; but he pleads that it is for the sake of the poor lady and child whose happiness depends on the rascal, and I have been obliged to yield. At the last moment Wrentham attempted to escape, and would have succeeded but for the cleverness of the detective, Sergeant Dier. ‘Be patient, and have courage till we meet again.’