Sir John had received warning of the change on that stormy day when Ralph Penlogan had visited him to tell him that his father was dead. But he had put her words out of his mind as quickly as possible. Whatever else they might mean, he could not bring himself to believe that Dorothy would deliberately break a sacred and solemn pledge. But a few weeks later matters came to a head. It was on Dorothy's return from a visit to the Penlogans' cottage at St. Goram that the truth came out. Sir John met her crossing the hall with a basket on her arm. "Where have you been all the afternoon?" he questioned sharply. "I have been to see poor Mrs. Penlogan," she said, "who is anything but well." "It seems to me you are very fond of visiting the Penlogans," he said crossly. "I suppose that lazy son is still hanging on to his mother, doing nothing?" "I don't think you ought to say he is lazy," she said, flushing slightly. "He has been to St. Ivel Mine to-day to try to get work, though Dr. Barrow says he ought not to think of working for another month." "Dr. Barrow is an old woman in some things," he retorted. "I think he is a very clever man," she answered; "and we ought to be grateful for what he did for me." "Oh, that is quite another matter. But I suppose you found the Penlogans full of abuse still of the ground landlord?" "No, I did not," she answered. "Lord St. Goram's name was never mentioned." "Oh!" he said shortly, and turned on his heel and walked away. "She evidently doesn't know yet that I'm the ground landlord," he reflected. "I wonder what she will say when she does know? I've half a mind to tell her myself and face it out. If I thought it would prevent her going to the Penlogans' cottage, I would tell her, too. Curse them! They've scored off me by not telling the girl." And he closed the library door behind him and dropped into an easy-chair. He came to the conclusion after a while that he would not tell her. All things considered, it was better that she should remain in ignorance. In a few weeks, or months at the outside, he hoped she would be Lady Probus, and then she would forget all about the Penlogans and their grievance. He took the poker and thrust it into the fire, and sent a cheerful blaze roaring up the chimney. Then he edged himself back into his easy-chair and stared at the grate. "It's quite time the wedding-day was fixed," he said to himself at length. "Dorothy is almost as well as ever, and there's no reason whatever why it should be any longer delayed. I hope she isn't beginning to think too seriously about the matter. In a case like this, the less the girl thinks the better." The short November day was fading rapidly, but the fire filled the room with a warm and ruddy light. He touched the bell at length, and a moment or two later a servant stood at the open door. "Tell your young mistress when she comes downstairs that I want to see her." "Yes, sir." And the servant departed noiselessly from the room.