He broke off, and Grace felt the matter too delicate for comment. Her interest in Lee grew daily, and, ignorant of love, the girl now believed her emotion towards him must be called by that name. He for his part loved indeed with all his young heart and soul. Care clouded his life, because he knew that he was wrong to think twice about his mistress. By night, when alone, his courage sometimes increased; but daylight and duty quenched it. Under darkness he dreamed dreams, yet when he rose to hear rough men laugh at his amended speech, and see Malherb order him hither and thither, as he ordered the rest, John Lee's folly stared him in the face. He fought with himself to relinquish his task and depart from Fox Tor Farm; he fancied that he had conquered himself, and determined to go; then would come a long, lonely ride with Grace, and a return to vain unquiet hopes. His conscience urged him away; his power of will proved insufficient to take him beyond temptation. As for the girl, her tender feeling was an unconscious instinct of self-preservation. She desired a strong protector rather than a lover; and he who might secure her safety was sure to win her active regard. Grace's delight in John Lee, her increasing admiration for his goodness, honesty and chivalrous nature, she mistook for love. The fatuity of such a conclusion was not impressed on the girl's virgin mind; and the secret of John's parentage proved no obstacle to attachment, but rather an incentive. That he was a gentleman in every vital particular she perceived. Upon this day a barrier fell down between them. She had found herself sad and weak before the approaching shadow of Peter Norcot; and John had waxed desperate, and forgotten everything in heaven and on earth but the lovely, mournful maid beside him. They were but seventeen and eighteen; of the world they knew nothing at all; but his world was in her eyes, and she believed that her future welfare and hopes of happiness now rode at her elbow in the handsome shape of the lad. "John," she said, exactly one hour before Mr. Norcot's horse appeared nigh Cater's Beam--"John, he's coming to-day." "I know it. I know the weather of your heart, Miss Grace, as soon as I look upon you; for the eyes are the sky of the mind." "Come closer," she answered; "come closer and comfort me." "Mr. Peter is a great man now--head of the Wool Factory, and worth many thousands of pounds." "Cold comfort! If he was made of gold with diamond eyes he would still be Peter Norcot." "'Tis strange, but you are the only person in the world that don't like him." "And you," she said quickly, "you hate him too." "Yes, I hate him well enough--because he's a coward and a hard-hearted man at bottom to plague you so, when you've made it clear you cannot love him. I hate him for that, I promise you. I could believe dark things against him gladly. Do you know what Tom Putt said?"