There was some difference in Tom that Rose felt but could not define, some influence over him that was stronger than her own. She had been conscious before that she had but to speak and he would try his utmost to carry out her whim; but to-day, miserable as he was, oppressed by the weight of sin, she felt respect for a certain strength of purpose that seemed developed in him. Mr. Curzon was right; she had chosen the wrong man. Never had she valued Tom's love as she did now when she was just about to lose it. "Then you are going directly?" she almost whispered. "Yes; I leave here the day after to-morrow, and I sail in about a fortnight. The squire thought the sooner I was out of the way the better." "Shall you ever come back?" "I don't know." "Nor ever write?" asked Rose, with a sob in her throat. "That's as may be; I'd write to one who cared." "I care. Write to me, please?" She was looking at him with pleading eyes, but he would not trust himself to return her glance. "Rose," he said, "there's not the woman now that I would ask to be my wife. I'm guilty, before God, of two black sins; but if He gives me time to live it down and earn a clean name again----" "He will! He will!" said Rose. "And, Tom, it does not matter if it's years, I'll wait." And then she put her arms round his neck and kissed him. His face was ashen grey; his arms ached with the longing to return her embrace and hold her close to his heart, but he let her go. "Before God, Rose, my darling, I'll live worthy of your kiss! Maybe it won't be long before I dare return it." The next instant he was gone, not daring to look back at her. CHAPTER XII. KITTY'S CHRISTMAS TREE. "The Websters are off to London, Paul," said Sally, about two days after Tom's departure. Paul started at the sudden mention of the name. "I did not think they intended to go to town until after the New Year. Mrs. Webster dilates largely upon the superiority of a Christmas in the country versus a Christmas in London; but, I suppose, it is as sincere as most of her statements?" "I think May has had more to do with it than her mother. She says Mrs. Webster has fussed a good deal over Dixon's flight, she trusted him so thoroughly. And May thinks it will be easier to get a good coachman in London, and that it will take off her mother's thoughts from an unpleasant subject. She now has visions of Dixon's return in company with an armed body of burglars, and prophesies cheerfully that they will all be found dead in their beds one morning, and that the house will be ransacked." Paul laughed. "Under the circumstances Miss Webster is wise to remove her forcibly to London," he said. But he privately conjectured that May's real reason for flight lay in her desire to get away from himself. "Has anything been heard of Dixon?" he went on.