When Reed got home, he was dead-beat. How many miles the man had walked that bleak February day, he did not stay to think--perhaps twenty. When excitement buoys up the spirit, the body does not feel fatigue. Mrs. Reed put supper before her husband, and he ate mechanically, lost in thought. "It fairly 'mazes me," he said, presently, in local phraseology. "But for going out in her best, I should think some accident had come to her. There's ponds about, and young girls might slip in unawares. But the putting on her best things shows she was going somewhere." "She put 'em on, and went off unseen," repeated Mrs. Reed, snuffing the candle. "_I_ should have thought she'd maybe gone off to some wake--only there wasn't one agate within range." "Cathy had no bad acquaintance to lead her astray," he resumed. "The girls about here are decent, and mind their work." "Which Cathy didn't," thought Mrs. Reed. "Cathy held her head above 'em," she said, aloud. "It's my belief she used to fancy herself one o' them fine ladies in her halfpenny books. She didn't seem to make acquaintance with nobody but that young Parrifer. She'd talk to him by the hour together, and I couldn't get her indoors." Reed lifted his head. "Young Parrifer!--what--_his_ son?" turning his thumb in the direction of Parrifer Hall. "Cathy talked to him?" "By the hour together," reiterated Mrs. Reed. "He'd be on that side the gate, a-talking, and laughing, and leaning on it; and Cathy, she'd be in the path by the tall hollyhocks, talking back to him, and fondling the children." Reed rose up, a strange look on his face. "How long was that going on?" "Ever so long; I can't just remember. But young Parrifer is only at the Hall by fits and starts." "And you never told me, woman!" "I thought no harm of it. I don't think harm of it now," emphatically added Mrs. Reed. "The worst of young Parrifer, that I've seen, is that he's as soft as a tomtit." Reed put on his hat without another word, and walked out. Late as it was, he was going to the Hall. He rang a peal at it, more like a lord than a labourer just let out of prison. There was some delay in opening the door: the household had gone upstairs; but a man came at last. "I want to see Major Parrifer." The words were so authoritative; the man's appearance so strange, with his tall figure and his clipped hair, as he pushed forward into the hall, that the servant momentarily lost his wits. A light, in a room on the left, guided Reed; he entered it, and found himself face to face with Major Parrifer, who was seated in an easy-chair before a good fire, spirits on the table, and a cigar in his mouth. What with the smoke from that, what with the faint light--for all the candles had been put out but one--the Major did not at first distinguish his late visitor's face. When the bare head and the resolute eyes met his, he certainly paled a little, and the cigar fell on to the carpet. "I want my daughter, Major Parrifer."