Steps approached. She hastily unearthed a neglected work-basket, and a very ancient piece of half-done embroidery. Was there a thimble anywhere--or needles! Yes!--by good luck. Heavens!--what shamming! She bent over the dingy bit of silk, her cheeks dimpling with laughter. Their first greetings were done, and Winnington was sitting by her--astride a chair, his arms lying along the top of it, his eyes looking down upon her, as she made random stitches in what looked like a futurist design. "Do you know that you wrote me a very, _very_ nice letter?" and as he spoke, she heard in his voice that tone--that lost tone, which she had heard in it at their very first interview, before she had chilled and flouted him, and made his life a burden to him. Her pulses leapt; but she did not look up. "I wonder whether--you quite deserved it? You were angry with me--for nothing!" "I am afraid I can't agree!" The voice now was a little dry, and a pair of very keen grey eyes examined her partially hidden face. She pushed her work away and looked up. "You ought!" she said vehemently. "You accused me--practically--of flirting with Mr. Lathrop. And I was doing nothing of the kind!" He laughed. "I never imagined that you were--or could be--flirting with Mr. Lathrop." "Then why did you threaten to give me up if I went on seeing him?" He hesitated--but said at last--gravely-- "Because I could not take the responsibility." "How would it help me--to give me up? According to you--" she breathed fast--"I should only--go to perdition--the quicker!" Her eyes still laughed, but behind the laughter there was a rush of feeling which communicated itself to him. "May I suggest that it is not necessary to go to perdition--at all--fast or slow?" She shook her head. Silence followed; which Winnington broke. "You said you would like to come and see some of the village people--your own people--and the school? Was that serious?" "Certainly!" She raised an indignant countenance. "I suppose you think--like everybody--that because I want the vote, I can't care about anything else?" "You'll admit it has a way of driving everything else out," he said, mildly. "Have you ever been into the village--for a month?--for two months? The things you wanted have been done. But you haven't been to see." She sprang to her feet. "Shall I come now?" "If it suits you. I've saved the afternoon."