’You had better not,’ said Charles. ’She don’t love you. When I mention your name her face turns green. She’d ill-wish you if she could.’ ’I have never done her an injury,’ said Honor. ’That may be. Hate is like love, it pitches at random, as Mrs. Veale says. You may laugh, Honor, but that same woman is in love with me.’ ’Nonsense!’ Honor did not laugh, she was too shocked to laugh. ’What is there nonsensical in that? I tell you she is. She cooks me better food than for the rest of the men, and she favours me in many ways.’ ’She cannot be such a fool.’ ’There is no folly in fancying me,’ said Charles, sharply. ’I have good looks, have seen the world, and compare with the louts here as wheat with rye. Many a woman has lost her heart to a younger man than herself.’ ’Charles, you must be plain and rough with her if this be so—though I can scarce believe it.’ ’No one forces you to believe it. But don’t you think I’m going to make Mrs. Veale your sister-in-law. I’m too wide-awake for that. She is ugly, and—she’s a bad un. Yes,’ musingly, ’she is a bad un.’ Then he worked his heel more vigorously in the hole. ’Take care what you are about, Charles, you are breaking the slate, and making what was bad, worse.’ ’I wish I had Mrs. Veale’s heart under that there stone,’ said Charles, viciously. ’I’d grind my heel into it till I’d worked through it. You don’t know how uncomfortable she makes me.’ ’Well, keep her at arm’s length.’ ’I can’t do it. She won’t let me. She runs after me as a cat after a milk-maid.’ ’Surely, Charles, you can just put a stop to that.’ ’I suppose I must.’ He continued, in spite of remonstrance, grinding through the broken slate into the earth. His face was hot and red. He put his elbow up, and wiped his brow on his sleeve. ’It is cursed warm here,’ he said at last. ’Then keep away from the fire. I’m glad you have come to see me, Charles; I always wish you well.’ ’Oh, for the matter of that I only came here to be out of the way of Mrs. Veale.’ Then Honor laughed. ’Really, Charles, this is childish.’ ’It is not kind of you to laugh,’ said he, sulkily; ’you do not know what it is to have your head turned, and to feel yourself pulled about and drawn along against your will. It is like "oranges and lemons," as we played at school, when you are on the weakest side.’ ’Whither can Mrs. Veale draw you? Not to the altar rails, surely.’ ’Oh no! not to the altar-rails. Mrs. Veale is a bad un.’ His manner puzzled Honor. She was convinced he was not telling her everything. ’What is it, Charles?’ she said; ’you may give me your confidence. Tell me all that troubles you. What is behind? I know you are keeping back something from me. If I can advise and help you, I will do so. I am your nearest sister.’ Then she put her arms round his neck and kissed him.