"No," said Winifred, still very deliberately and coldly. "I am a woman, and can not forgive her lack of trust as yet. I will yield so far as to allow her to come here and see you, as she is going abroad, but I will not see her myself." "Your sister?" he suggested, still hoping. "No," repeated Winifred. "On that I am immovable. Be content and--leave me!" Her voice trembled over the concluding words, and the next moment she buried her face in her hands, leaning forward over the table. There were no sobs--no tears escaping from that indomitable lady, but her attitude was eloquent of tragedy. Lionel was not so foolish as to attempt consolation. He left the room, hoping to soften her before Beatrice came down. The morning dragged wearily, but at last the luncheon-gong sounded, and Lionel went to the dining-room. Winifred joined him at the meal, but neither had much to say. Lionel, though understanding her resentment, could not excuse it, and his attitude in consequence was chilly. Winifred, reading his condemnation, made no effort further to justify herself, and both were glad when the meal came to an end. Before leaving the room she said, "If you prefer to see my sister in the house, the library will be at your disposal." "I prefer the garden," he replied stiffly, and he thought he caught a smile. "Suppose it rains?" "There is The Happy Heart." "But your promise still holds," she reminded him. "If Miss Blair prefers the inn," said Lionel with polite determination, "we go there. That, of course, will cancel the promise, and you will not see me again. In case she does," he added more softly, "I had better say good-by now. Thank you for many kindnesses." "There is nothing to thank me for," she replied, looking confused. "There is. And I wish you would give me one thing more for which to thank you," said Lionel, taking her hand. Her eyes dropped. She blushed, but did not free herself. "And that is----?" she murmured. "It would be a great happiness to see you and your sister reconciled." She wrenched her hand away. "Do not ask me that again," she replied, seeming both disappointed and pettish. "I have given you my answer already. Now, please, will you be kind enough to tell the prisoner I wish to see him. He can stop work and change. I will wait for him in my sitting-room up-stairs." Lionel went in search of Tony. He found the latter pocketing his pipe, preparatory to a fresh attack upon the mound of earth. "Miss Arkwright says you can stop," said Lionel genially. "You may go and get clean; she wishes to see you."