Just before Christmas Mary Bolitho returned to her father's house from London, where she had been visiting some friends. It was during this visit that the meeting between herself and Paul, which we have previously described, took place. During the rest of her stay in London she constantly thought of what he had said to her, and wondered whether, in the excitement of the moment, she had spoken foolishly. She admired Paul greatly, even in spite of the dislike which still lurked in her heart. She had an admiration for strong, capable men, and had been greatly interested in the career which she felt sure lay before him. Nevertheless, a strong feeling of antagonism possessed her. His air of masterfulness irritated her, and in her quiet hours she felt angry because he possessed a kind of fascination for her. She could not help being pleased at his evident admiration for her, and she thought of his avowal with feelings almost akin to delight, and yet she never meant to encourage him. A great gulf lay between them, and the thought of crossing it was not seriously entertained. He might be ambitious, and he might carve out a great future; but still he was of the working class, and doubtless had the instincts of his class. On her return home she found her father much preoccupied. During the whole of the dinner hour he scarcely spoke, but presently, when the servants had left them, he seemed desirous of entering into conversation with her. "Have you had a good time in London, Mary?" he said. "A very interesting time indeed," was her reply. "The Scotmans were very kind." "I suppose Stepaside's speech was talked about a good deal?" "Yes," replied the girl. "He seems to have made a great impression. People are very much interested in him, too; and he was at the house of Sir John Sussex on the night when he gave that reception." "Did you see him?" "Yes," she replied. "And speak to him?" "It was difficult to avoid doing that. You see, I had met him once or twice, and when he came to me I had to be civil." "The impertinent upstart!" cried Mr. Justice Bolitho, and there was almost a snarl in his tones. "He's not looked upon in that light in London," said the girl. Somehow, she knew not why, she wanted to defend him against her father's evident dislike. "We live in a topsy-turvy age," said the Judge. "Do you know what the fellow did? He actually had the temerity to write, asking for my consent to pay his addresses to you! You did not know of this, of course?" "No." The word escaped her almost mechanically, but she felt a warm flush pass over her face. "I never knew of such impertinence! Fancy the fellow whom I sent to jail only a few years ago daring to think of such a thing! Had he come to me in person, I think I should have had him horsewhipped. And he ought to be horsewhipped, too. Why----" And then he laughed harshly.