And Kitty was wise enough to know that she had heard all she was likely to hear that night; nor was she ill-pleased to be alone with her hopes. Piers was at hand. To-morrow she might see him, and hear him speak, and feel the tenderness of his clasp, and meet the love in his eyes. So she sat at the open casement, breathing the sweetness and peace of the night, and shaping things for the future that made her heart beat quick with many thoughts not to be revealed. The faint smile of the loving, dreaming of the loved one, was on her lips; and if a doubt came to her, she put it far away. In fear she would not dwell, and, besides, her heart had given her that insight which changes faith into knowledge. She _knew_ that Piers loved her. The Squire had no such clear confidence. When Kitty had gone away, he said plainly, "I am not pleased with Piers. I do not like his ways; I do not like them at all. After Kate left London, he was seen everywhere, and constantly, with Miss Vyner." "Why not? She is one of his own household." "They were very confidential together. I noticed them often for Kitty's sake." "I do wish, Squire, that you would leave Kitty's love-affairs alone." "_That_ I will not, Maude. If I have any business now, it is to pay attention to them. I have taken your 'let-alone' plan, far too long. My girl shall not be courted in any such underhand, mouse-in-the-corner way. Her engagement to Lord Exham must be publicly acknowledged, or else broken entirely off." "The man loves Kate. He will do right to her." "Loves Kate! Very good. But what of the Other One? He cannot do right to both." "Yes, he can. Their claims are different. You may depend on that. Kate is the love of his soul; the Other One is like a sister." "I do not trust either Piers or the Other One--and I wish she would give me my ring." "You do not certainly know that she has your ring." "I will ask her to let me see it." "Now, John Atheling, you will meddle with things that concern you, and let other things alone. It may be your duty to interfere about your daughter. You may insist on having her recognised as the future Duchess of Richmoor,--it will be a feather in your own cap; you may say to the Duke, you must accept my daughter, or I will--" "Maude! You are just trying to stand me upon my pride. You cannot do that any longer. If you are willing to let Kate 'drift,' I am not. It is my duty to insist on her proper recognition." "Then do your duty. But it is _not_ your duty to catechise Miss Vyner about _my_ ring. When that inquiry is to be made, I will make it myself. If Piers has to give up Kate, it will be to him a knock-down blow; it will be a shot in the backbone; you need not sting him at the same time." "I will speak to him to-morrow, and see the Duke afterwards. I owe my little Kate that much." "And the Duke and yourself will be the upper and the nether millstones, and your little Kate between them. I know! I know!"