"They have _life_ wherewith to make them! But the dead--" He paused. But Delia felt and quivered under the unspoken appeal; and also under the quick touch of something more personal--more intimate--in his manner, expressing, it seemed, some deep feeling of his own. He, in turn, perceived that she had grown very pale; he guessed even that she was suddenly not very far from tears. He seemed to realise the weeks, perhaps months, of conflict through which the girl had just passed. He was sincerely sorry for her--sincerely drawn to her. Delia broke the silence. "It is no good I think discussing this any more--is it? There's the will, and the question is"--she faced him boldly--"how are you and I going to get on, Mr. Winnington?" Winnington's seriousness broke up. He threw her a smiling look, and with his hands in his pockets began to pace the room reflectively. "I really believe we can pull it off, if we look at it coolly," he said at last, pausing in front of her. "I am no bigot on the Suffrage question--frankly I have not yet made up my mind upon it. All that I am clear about--as your father was clear--is that outrage and violence are _wrong_--in any cause. I cannot believe that we shan't agree there!" He looked at her keenly. Delia was silent. Her face betrayed nothing, though her eyes met his steadily. "And in regard to that, there is of course one thing that troubles me"--he resumed--"one thing in which I beg you to take my advice"-- Delia breathed quick. "Gertrude Marvell?" she said. "Of course I knew that was coming!" "Yes. That we must settle, I think." He kept his eyes upon her. "You can hardly know that she is mentioned by name in your father's last letter--the letter to me---as the one person whose companionship he dreaded for you--the one person he hoped you would consent to part from." Delia had turned white. "No--I didn't know." "For that reason, and for others, I do entreat you"--he went on, earnestly--"not to keep her here. Miss Marvell may be all that you believe her. I have nothing to say against her,--except this. I am told by those who know that she is already quite notorious in the militant movement. She has been in prison, and she has made extremely violent speeches, advocating what Miss Marvell calls war, and what plain people call--crime. That she should live with you here would not only prejudice your future, and divide you from people who should be your natural friends; it would be an open disrespect to your father's memory." There was silence. Then Delia said, evidently mastering her excitement with difficulty. "I can't help it. She _must_ stay with me. Nobody need know--about my father. Her name is not mentioned in the will."