"Mr. Milbanke will pay them," she said impulsively; then instantly she checked herself. "Oh! what have I said?" she exclaimed. "Don't pretend that I told you, Clodagh. He is so particular that you shouldn't know." But Clodagh scarcely heard. Her hand had dropped to her side, and she stood staring blankly at her aunt. "You mean to say that he's going to pay father's debts--our debts?" "Yes. He even wants to put the place into good repair. Poor Denis seems to have cast a perfect spell over him." "Then we'll owe him something we can never possibly repay!" Mrs. Asshlin drew herself up. "Not exactly owe," she corrected. "It is an--an act of friendship. The Asshlins have never been indebted to any one for a favour. Of course Mr. Milbanke is a wealthy man; and it's easy to be generous when you have money----" She heaved a sigh. But Clodagh stood staring vacantly at the opposite wall. "It's a debt all the same," she said, after a long pause. "I suppose it is what father used to call a debt of honour." She spoke in a slow, mechanical voice; then, as if moved to action by her train of thought, she turned without waiting for her aunt's comment, and walked out of the room. Traversing the corridor, she descended the stairs and passed straight to the hall door. Once in the open, she wheeled to the right with a steady deliberate movement and began slowly to retrace the steps she had taken nearly half an hour earlier. Steadily and unemotionally she went forward, skirting the courtyard, until, at the dip of the path, the glen came into view, and with it Milbanke's precise, black figure, standing exactly as she had seen it last. The fact caused her no surprise. That he should still be there seemed the natural--the anticipated thing; and without any pause--any moment of hesitation or delay--she moved directly towards him. As she reached his side, her cheeks were hot, her heart was still beating unevenly; and, absorbed by her own emotion, she failed to see the dejected droop of his shoulders, the slight, pathetic suggestion of age in his bent back. Her footsteps were scarcely audible on the damp earth, and she was close beside him before he became conscious of her presence; as he did so, however, he started violently, and the blood rushed incontinently over his forehead and cheeks. "Clodagh!" he stammered. But Clodagh checked him, laying her hand quickly on his arm. "Mr. Milbanke," she said hurriedly, "will you forgive me for what I said? I want to take it back. I want to say that, if you still like, I--I will marry you." CHAPTER VII