Conscious of defeat, Willy desired compromise. He could not be induced to take a share of watching and following which Frank declared essential; and, dreading an encounter with Stracey, whose brawny arm it was impossible to forget, he shut himself up in the shop, and devoted himself to drawing up a most elaborate balance-sheet, showing how he would stand if he were obliged to close the business to-morrow, whereas Frank loitered about the roads, till Mrs. Horlock came along with her dogs, and engaged him in conversation; and no matter at what corner he stationed himself, he found he was not free from observation. A few days after he could not bring himself to return to his post, and contented himself with looking out of his window, and taking an occasional stroll by the embankment, when he saw a train signalled. A great weight seemed lifted from his shoulder the day he heard that his rival's holiday had come to an end, and that he had been forced to return to his counting-house in London. True it is that Mr. Brookes had in a certain measure approved of Willy's action in forbidding young Stracey the Manor House, and therefore of his, Frank Escott's, suit, but neither of these gains compensated him for the crowning loss of not being able to see his beloved, for although the Manor House was still theoretically open to him, practically it was closed. The sisters, although at variance on all subjects, had united in condemning him and Willy, and during one dinner, the misery of which he declared he could never forget, they had sat whispering together, refusing to address him either by look or word. Willy took all this calmly. It is an ill wind that blows no good, and the silence enabled him to thoroughly masticate his food. Mr. Brookes wept a little and laughed a little, and reminded them of the oblivion that awaited all their little quarrels.