Nora’s whole face lit up, but she said nothing, only looked at her father and waited. Had she burst out into a storm of girlish delight and gratitude, the Rev. John might have plucked up courage and held his ground, but that steady self-repression indicated a strength of purpose of which he himself was incapable. He shrugged his shoulders. "Since my authority is denied in my own house, there is no object in appealing to me," he said peevishly. "Do what you like—only, in the future remember that I warned you. You have taken your life into your own hands, Nora. I can no longer hold myself responsible." "All I beg is that I shall be allowed to keep out of the way when the beggar comes here," Miles said, as he followed his indignant parent out of the room. The moment the door had closed Nora left her place of defence by the fire and came to Mrs. Ingestre’s side. "I know you are wondering why I did not tell you before, mother," she said rapidly and clearly. "It was because I did not want to drag you into it more than I could help. I know what you have to bear when father thinks you are ’abetting’ me. I wanted to fight my battle alone." "And I suppose you think you have won, Nora?" "Yes, I think so. Father can do nothing." "I was not thinking of that." Nora looked down into the pale face and wondered at the pity which mingled with the tenderness of its expression. "Of what were you thinking, mother?" Mrs. Ingestre sighed. "Are you so sure of yourself, little girl?" she asked gently. "Is your love really above every earthly consideration? Can you give up your home, your country, your language, your ways, us—your people, without a heart-ache? Do you realise that you are bringing your love the greatest of all sacrifices?" "Mother, it is a sacrifice Wolff will never ask of me." "Life will ask it of you—not even Wolff can alter the laws of life. The day may come when Circumstance will say to you that you must choose. And what then?" Nora was silent. Then she lifted her head. "Then, mother, I should have to choose. It is true—my love is strongest in me." Mrs. Ingestre sank back among her pillows. "God help you, dear!" she said under her breath.