It flashed through Rhoda’s mind that, as Jack’s errand to town had probably been connected with the disposal of the Romney, the breakdown had not been a very serious nor a very inconvenient one. And then, rendered suspicious by circumstances, she noted that Lady Sarah, in spite of her statement that she was going, did not go. And it occurred to Rhoda that Lady Sarah wished to avoid the possibility of a _tête-à-tête_ between her husband and Rhoda. Sir Robert turned to the girl courteously, and asked what he could do for her. In a low voice, striving to repress every sign of emotion, Rhoda said that she would be glad if she might leave the Mill-house at once, and return home to her parents. The baronet did not seem surprised. “Of course we can’t keep you against your will,” he said. “But I am very sorry, and we shall miss you very much. Have you spoken to Lady Sarah about it?” She saw that he too was striving to speak more calmly than he felt. “No. I thought I ought to come to you first.” “I can only repeat that I am more sorry than can say. And as for Caryl----” He broke off, deeply moved. There was a pause, during which Rhoda noticed that though Lady Sarah appeared to be chattering idly to Jack she was watching with the keenest attention what went on between her husband and Caryl’s companion. “Thank you,” said Rhoda. “I will say good-bye to Caryl at once, if I may.” “You are going to-day, then? It’s rather sudden? For your own sake, if I might suggest, I should say you had better wait till to-morrow. You look tired, and unfit for a journey.” She raised her eyes to his face and gave him one swift glance. There was a world of feeling in her own sensitive face as she looked at him: gratitude, regret, affection, and even reproach, all expressed themselves in that one quick up-look of her tender blue eyes. And the answering look which Sir Robert threw at her was hardly less eloquent. There was in his grave face a look of earnest affection, and an expression of almost childlike helplessness in the face of an unexpected blow. Rhoda choked down a sob, and crossed the room quickly to Lady Sarah. “I’m going away,” she said quickly; and without thinking it necessary to give any explanation to a lady who, she was sure, must understand her decision without it, she added: “I’m going upstairs to say good-bye to little Caryl.” With Lady Sarah’s perfunctory regrets ringing in her ears, mingled with the polite expressions of surprise from Jack Rotherfield, she went out of the room. She crept up the stairs with her heart beating very fast. If it was hard to leave Sir Robert, what would the parting with poor little Caryl be? He was lying by the window of his sitting-room, which had once been the nursery, and he clapped his hands as she came in. “Oh, Rhoda, Rhoda, what a long time you’ve been! I’d thought you had forgotten me!” he cried, as soon as he caught sight of her.