For many years I had longed to say these words to her, but the cold impressiveness of her manner had checked them often upon my lips and thrust them back to my aching heart. Now, when a great sorrow filled her face with a softer light and loosened for a moment its hard, rigid lines, I dared to yield to the impulse which I had so often felt--and, alas! in vain--in vain! Keener agony, deeper disappointment, I have never felt. Coldness and indifference had been hard to bear, but what came now was worse. She shrank back from me--shrank back, with her hands outstretched towards me and her head averted. "Philip, I did not know that you were here. I cannot talk to you now. Go to your room. To-morrow--to-morrow!" Her voice died away, but her sudden weakness inspired me with no hope, for it was a physical weakness only. There were no signs of softening in her face, no answering tenderness in her tones. So what could I do but go? CHAPTER XIV. A MEETING IN THE COFFEE-ROOM. It was eleven o'clock on the following morning. I had been reading in the garden for some time, and was just thinking of starting for a walk, when a dogcart from the Castle stopped at the gate, and Mr. Ravenor's servant--the man who had conducted me from the lodge to the Castle--was shown into the house. I went to him at once and he handed me a note. "Mr. Ravenor has sent you this, sir," he said respectfully. I tore it open and read (there was no orthodox commencement): "Before going to Dr. Randall's there are a few things which you are not likely to have which you will find necessary. Remember that it is part of the education which I intend for you that you should associate with the other pupils on equal terms. Therefore, be so good as to go into Torchester with Reynolds and place yourself entirely in his hands. He has my full instructions.--R." I folded the note up and put it into my pocket. "Am I to come with you now?" I asked. "If you please, sir." I went upstairs to get ready and in a few minutes was prepared to start. The groom offered me the reins, but I declined them and mounted instead to the vacant seat by his side, which Reynolds had silently relinquished to me. Torchester was scarcely a dozen miles from the farm, but, nevertheless, this was my first visit to it. Many a time I had looked down from Beacon Hill upon the wide-spreading, dirty-coloured cloud of smoke from its tall factory chimneys, which seemed like a marring blot upon the fair, peaceful stretch of country around, and by night at the dull red glow in the sky and the myriads of twinkling lights which showed me where it stood. But neither by day nor night had the scene been an attractive one for me. I had felt no curiosity to enter it. I had never even cared to figure to myself what it would be like.