Mrs. Dorriman, like most shy people, spoke quickly when she had anything to say that cost her an effort, and she said rather abruptly, though with a little deprecating air, "You see, you were wrong--you must feel that now." "I feel nothing of the kind, and I do not see it, either. This is a new tone for you to take with me." "It is a right tone just now, you asked me to help to see what could be done. Grace can never forgive what you said--never." "Why not?" "Was there any truth in it? Did you really speak to Mr. Drayton about her?" Mr. Sandford sat looking straight before him. He could not quite remember at first how it had been. Had Mr. Drayton spoken first, or had he mentioned Grace to him in the first instance? Then he remembered, "Drayton spoke of Margaret. He said something about her admiringly. I did not want him to have any notion of Margaret--I did not know how far it might go. I wished him to like Grace, and I did say something. Yes, that is true. He would not see it, and I am not surprised; but, at any rate, he led up to it, he spoke first." "Then it is not quite so bad for her. I may tell them this?" "You may tell them anything you like." "I only wish to tell them the truth." "Just as you please." "Brother!" and Mrs. Dorriman leaned forward a little, and her gentle face flushed a little, "these children are living here with you by your wish; you must not make it hard for them." "Saul among the prophets! Why, you are coming out in quite a new light." Mrs. Dorriman shrank back again. She might have answered him and said that for these girls she had more courage than for herself, but she knew the wisdom of silence and she held her peace. "What do you think they will do?" He asked the question with assumed indifference. "I think they will go away. They are both high-spirited girls. Margaret feels it so much--she feels any slight offered to Grace more even than Grace does herself; she is perfectly devoted to her sister." "You must prevent their going--at any rate in this way," he said, not looking at her, but looking straight into the fire. "How can I prevent it?" said the poor woman, helplessly; she felt as though life was very hard to her. He did not answer her, but went on looking straight before him. Then an inspiration came to her. "If I went with them somewhere, after a time perhaps they would come back." "That would do," he said, slowly. "It would cost something," she said, always nervous when money matters were in question, and looking at him anxiously. "You can have any money you want," he said, carelessly. "When would you go?" "We should have to go at once--to-morrow. I am quite sure the girls will want to be off at daylight." She thought to herself that had she been so insulted she would not have waited till daylight. "I think it will be better to go as soon as possible, and Jean will take care of you." "I am not afraid of myself, thank you; it is only going back to the days before you came."