“You shall see what the press said,” replied Trenchard. “We’ve had very good notices about it and far beyond the trade too. Art papers have taken up water-marks and pointed out what I told you long ago, that the craft ought to have a great future.” Of Medora nothing was said, but Trood mentioned her briefly a few days later. He took Kellock aside. “It’s official, and no more,” he remarked. “But I suppose you stand for Mrs. Dingle now, and are going to marry her as soon as it can be done?” “That is so, Trood.” “Well, she went away without warning, and forfeits her money accordingly. You know the law on that subject.” “That’s all right,” said Kellock. “She didn’t mean nothing uncivil or improper, but the circumstances required her to act as she did.” Trood nodded and left him. In common with most of the other responsible men in the Mill, he never addressed Kellock on the subject of Medora. Jordan noticed this, and felt that though people abstained from comment, his action had created a body of opinion that was to some extent unfriendly. None hesitated to regret the departure of Ned Dingle, and none attempted to conceal that regret in the presence of Kellock. A few men refused to recognise him farther, and when he saluted them as usual, cut him. Robert Life was one of these, and he found that those who came immediately under the influence of Nicholas Pinhey—the men at the glazing rollers—had been imbued with particular animosity. There Medora herself had worked. As for her, she lived through a familiar experience, and discovered that anticipation is greater than reality, both for good and evil. She had built up a very elaborate picture of her return to Dene, and of the attitude of her circle. It was a vision wherein she occupied the centre, as a being mysterious and arresting, a figure to challenge hatred, or enthusiasm, a compelling heroine, who might provoke furious enemies, or win loyal friends, but could by no possibility leave anyone indifferent. She had pictured herself as the protagonist, the cynosure, the paramount object of interest. When she walked abroad in her London clothes, all eyes would be upon her, and she would move among them, gentle, indifferent, inscrutable, her secrets hidden, herself doubtless a subject of ceaseless and heated discussion.