"I shall feel that we are very far apart," said Ella. "You forget what a long time it takes to travel from Italy to Heron Dyke." "Nothing like the time it used to take when I was a young spark. I remember when I went the grand tour as it was called--but there, there, we have something else to talk about now. Anyhow, railroads are a wonderful invention." There were twenty things on Ella's tongue that she would have liked to speak of, but that it might be more wise to refrain from. Dr. Jago's warning words rarely left her thoughts. "Be sure to wrap yourself up warmly when you go out in the carriage, uncle." "Ay, ay, dearie, I won't forget." "I shall come back to you the first week in the new year. Two months will be quite long enough to be away from home." "We have agreed to see about that, you know, my lassie. I will send you word when I feel that I want you, and then you will come. Not before, I think--not before." It was a topic that Ella dared not pursue further. She kissed his hand with tears in her eyes. He patted her cheek lovingly. "Oh! why does he persist so strongly in sending me away?" she thought. "Hubert let fall a word--an inadvertent one, I think--the other night, that they feared I should be melancholy in this gloomy old house in the winter. It is gloomy now, but I could have put up with that very well." "If I get on as famously for the next month or two as I have for the last three weeks," said the Squire, "I shall be able to drive to the station and meet you when you come home. And then when the sun comes out warm next spring, I can take your arm, and we can walk again in the peach alley as we used to do. Why not?" Was there something wistful in his voice, as he spoke thus, that caused Ella to glance up quickly into his face. "Are you sure, uncle, that you are really as much stronger and better as you say you are?" she asked quickly, and with ill-concealed anxiety. One of his old suspicious flashes came into his eyes, but it died away next moment. "Am I sure, dearie? Why--why, what makes you ask that? You can see for yourself that I'm better. Yes, Jago's making another man of me--another man." "Tell me the truth, uncle," she exclaimed passionately, "_why_ is it that you are driving me away? I am sure there is some special reason for it." For a moment or two the Squire did not answer: his face was working with some inward excitement, his fingers, stroking the hand he held, trembled visibly. "The house is getting uncanny, child," he said at last, "and I won't suffer my pretty one to be in it through the dark months. Before another winter comes round, perhaps the mystery will be solved; I hope it will be. Any way, we shall by that time have become more reconciled to it." "But, uncle----"