"Look here," he said suddenly, getting up, and going to the fire, "I don't know how long that fellow means to stay in Mitchelhurst, but, till he leaves, you don't go beyond the gate. I don't suppose you would wish to do so"--he paused, but she was apparently absorbed in the consideration of a little ring on her finger--"I should hope you have proper feeling enough not to wish to do so"--this appeal was also received in a strictly neutral manner--"but in any case you have my express command to the contrary." "Very well," said Barbara, with a little affectation of being rather weary of the whole subject. "I do not choose that you should be exposed to insult," Mr. Hayes continued. "Very well," said Barbara again. "I can stay in if you like, though I don't think Mr. Harding would insult me." "I beg your pardon, my dear, but you are not qualified to judge in this matter. If you had heard Mr. Harding's conversation last night you might not be quite so sure what he would or would not do. It is my duty to protect you from an unpleasant possibility, and you will oblige me by not going beyond--or rather by not going near the gate." Barbara, tired of saying "Very well," said "All right." "Wednesday is the night of Pryor's entertainment at the schools. I shall be sorry to disappoint him, but I certainly shall not go unless Mr. Harding has left the place. He has shown such a deplorable want of taste and proper feeling that he would probably take that opportunity of thrusting himself upon us." Mr. Hayes paused once more, but the girl did not seem inclined either to defend or to denounce their late guest. She changed her position listlessly, and gazed out of the window. "A gentleman would not, but that proves nothing with regard to Mr. Harding. You are very silent this morning, Barbara." "I have a headache," she said, "I'm tired," and to her great relief, Mr. Hayes, after walking two or three times up and down the room, went off to his study.