Ralph naturally could not help hearing the talk of the neighbourhood, but he made no comment. Whether he was glad or sorry no one knew. As a matter of fact, he hardly knew himself. For Sir John he had no sympathy. He could see him starve without a pang. But there was another who loved him, who would share his sufferings and be humbled in his humiliation, and for her he was sorry. So he refused to discuss the squire's affairs, either with Ruth or anyone else. He was fighting a hard battle--how hard no one knew but himself. He did his best to avoid everything that would remind him of Dorothy, did his best in every way to forget her. Sometimes he found himself longing with an inexpressible desire for a sight of her face, and yet on the whole he was exceedingly grateful that she did not return to St. Goram. Time and distance had done something. She was not so constantly in his thoughts as she used to be. He was not always on the look-out for her, and he never started now, fancying it was her face he saw in the distance; and yet he was by no means confident that he would ever gain the victory. If he never saw her in his waking moments she came to him constantly in his dreams. And, curiously enough, in his dreams there was never any barrier to their happiness. In dreamland social distinctions did not exist, and hard and tyrannical fathers were unknown. In dreamland happy lovers went their own way unhindered and undisturbed. In dreamland it was always springtime, and sickness and old age were never heard of. So if memory were subdued in the daytime, night restored the balance. Dorothy lived in his heart in spite of every effort to put her away. The sight of Mary Telfer's pleasant and smiling face on the evening in question was a pleasant relief after the worries and annoyances of the day. Mary was brimful of vivacity and good-humour, and Ralph quickly caught the contagion of her cheerful temper. She knew all the gossip of the neighbourhood, and retailed it with great verve and humour. Ralph laughed at some of the incidents she narrated until the tears ran down his face. Then suddenly her mood changed, and she wanted to know if Ralph was going to fight the Brick, Tile, and Clay Company. "What would you do if you were in my place?" Ralph questioned, with a touch of banter in his voice. "Fight to the last gasp," she answered. "And what after that?" "Oh, that is a question I should never ask myself." "Then you don't believe in looking far ahead?" "What's the use? If you look far enough you'll see a tombstone, and that's not cheerful." "Then you'd fight without considering how the battle might end?" "Why not? If you are fighting for principle and right, you have to risk the cost and the consequences." "But to go to war without counting the cost is not usually considered good statesmanship." "Oh, isn't it? Well, you see, I'm not a statesman--I'm only a woman. But if I were a man I wouldn't let a set of bullies triumph over me."