Staying day by day under the same roof with Sir Robert, she had fallen more and more completely under the influence of his great kindness and gentleness, of the nature that was ever self-sacrificing, ever considerate for others, yet with a certain manliness and firmness that made Rhoda wonder what he would be like if he should ever find out that those he loved and trusted had deceived him. She was still torn with her fears on his account when the baronet came in, racquet in hand, and sitting down beside her, asked her kindly how she felt. The girl, pale and trembling, looked into his gentle, kindly face, and the words that came to her lips refused to come further. He smiled at her, and patted her hand. “You’ve been overtiring yourself. I shan’t let you come downstairs to-morrow,” he said. Rhoda struggled to regain her self-command and answered steadily: “I must come down to-morrow, Sir Robert, for I must go back home.” “You are tired of us? That you are in such a hurry to get away?” She shook her head. “You are the best and the kindest people I’ve ever met,” she said tremulously. “But I want to go back.” He looked at her keenly. “You have something on your mind,” said he. Rhoda rose suddenly to her feet. Looking down upon him with eyes that blazed, she said hoarsely: “Yes. I want to warn you. Find out, Sir Robert, whether you are loved as you deserve to be loved. That’s all.” The baronet rose, frowning and displeased. She saw that he looked upon her words as an impertinence, and she was cut to the heart. Faltering, she stammered out an incoherent apology. Sir Robert looked at her coldly. “There is nothing to apologise for,” he said gravely. “I’m sure you mean well. I was taken by surprise, that’s all.” Rhoda felt that the room was spinning round her. She knew his danger, and she saw that she was helpless to save him. There was only one thing to be done; she must go away. She could not stay another day now that she had offended him, nor could she watch the progress of the harm she could not prevent. On the pretext of fatigue, she staggered upstairs, assisted by Sir Robert, as far as the foot of the staircase, where she gently refused further help. Rhoda had never seen the kindly Sir Robert angry before, and the effect his displeasure had upon her was overwhelming. She, however, was not to be the only person to offend him that day, for Bessie, who came in with a little tray with the wing of a chicken for the convalescent, brought with her the news that Sir Robert was gravely displeased with his old servant, Langton, to whom he had given notice to leave him. “I don’t know the rights of it,” went on Bessie, “and I don’t want to gossip. But it’s thought Langton told Sir Robert something he didn’t want to hear, and didn’t believe, and this is the consequences!”