At noontide up came her brother-in-law, and made the endeavour to conclude a peace, but this was beyond his powers, for George Endicott was obdurate and his daughter would not give her promise; neither would she leave her father’s house, but dwelt without it for several days, living on such food as the pity of the servants gave her and sleeping on the ground or in the stalls of the horses. And day by day came Gilbert Farry and tempted her with promises of love and comfort, but she would have none of it, but remained a beggar before her father’s door. On the tenth day her father came to her and again demanded of her her promise; and if she gave it not, he added, she should no longer have even the shelter of his barns, but be cast out upon the high-road among the knaves and gipsies. Grace Endicott rose up from the straw and stood erect in her torn, soiled garments, with her hair unbound and her cheeks stained with weeping. “Sir,” she made answer, “I stand between Good and Evil, and you would have me choose Evil. This is my immortal soul you ask for. For certainly I was in the power of the Devil from whom I was rescued by Mr. Bunyan, and if you deny me his converse, then I am no better than lost.” But her father was in no way moved, and asked if she would promise or go upon the roads. “Well and well again,” she said with much wildness, “I promise, but it is a lost soul you take into your house.” Thereupon her father took her by the hand and led her in, and as she crossed the threshold she said again– “It is a damned soul you bring home, my father.” In the parlour was a feast spread and wine laid out and Gilbert Farry waiting, and he took her to him with no excuse and kissed her. “So you have won,” she murmured, and made no resistance. So for a month she lived quietly in her father’s house, until one day near on Christmas she met Mr. Bunyan in the market-place of Bedford town, and he was being taken to prison for his preaching, and there were many of his following going with him with words of encouragement and love. But Grace Endicott denied him, and looked as if she did not know his face, even asking one who stood by, “Who is that fellow?” At this John Bunyan looked through the press and spoke to her, quoting scripture– “Whosoever shall deny Me before men, him will I also deny before My Father which is in Heaven,” he said. “I obey _my_ father,” answered Mrs. Endicott. “He that loveth father or mother before Me is not worthy of Me,” spake Mr. Bunyan, and went on his way to gaol. Now all the rest of that day, being Tuesday, Mrs. Endicott was very silent; those among whom she moved marked it with concern. The next night she came running through the darkness to her sister’s house, all wild and beside herself, and implored them all to come home with her, which they did in a great fright. Upon the way she told them that her father had fallen ill, and was now dying.