His sister stared open-eyed at him. Since last night he had been contrite to the verge of womanishness; but now he showed a sterner glimpse of the Wayne temper than she had looked for in him. She felt wronged and baffled, and for her life could not keep back the stinging answer. "Ay, thou art master," she said slowly, "and thou beginnest well—first to let another fight for thee, and then to welcome the betrayer with open arms. Small wonder that they call thee Shameless Wayne." For a breathing-space she thought he would have struck her. But this lad, who until yesterday had never seen need to check his lightest whim, was learning a hard lesson well. He struggled with his pride awhile, and crushed it; and when he spoke his voice was quiet and sad. "Nell," he said, "’tis no fit place for brawling, and thou art right in what thou say’st of me. But Mistress Wayne shall bide, and not if all our kin cry out on me, will I go back on what I promised." "I am cold again, and very hungry. Send yond girl away," wailed the little woman. "Does naught soften thee, lass?" said Wayne, glancing from his sister to the shrinking figure that held so closely fast to him. "Naught," Nell answered, hard and cold. "The years will pass, and sorrows age, may be—but I shall never lose my hate of her." "Yet think," he went on patiently. "She cleaves to me, Nell, and thou know’st how the fairy-kist bring luck to those they favour. ’Tis a good omen for the long fight that’s coming." "If pity does not move me, will a country proverb, think’st thou? Have thy way, Ned, since there’s none to stay thee—but at the least take thy new friend from the death-room. Thou’lt see father turn and writhe if she stay longer by him, and ’tis my turn to watch the bier." "Let’s begone, little bairn. Haply thou’lt know here to find thy wearing-stuff if I take thee to the old room above," said Shameless Wayne, leading his step-mother to the door. But Nell was fevered, and would not brook such prompt obedience to her wish. "Where are the lads?" she asked. "Frolicking, belike, when sober sitting within-doors would better have fitted the occasion." Shameless Wayne turned on the threshold. "I sent them hawking," he answered, the new firmness gaining in his voice. "There’s one claim of the dead, lass, and another of the living; and ’tis better they should brace their muscle for the days to come than sit moping over what is past." "He grows masterful already. The shame has slipped clean off from him," murmured Nell, as she took a pair of snuffers from the mantel and trimmed the death-candles.