The Squire was more utterly cast down by Mr Pitt's communication than those would have thought possible who knew that Anthony Miles had never been a favourite of his. Perhaps a little touch of jealousy had given the first warp when he looked at the Vicar's son and his own daughters, and had made him always hard upon the young fellow; but it was not a jealousy which could take pleasure in such a discovery as this. He was so cross and miserable throughout the day that Winifred felt sure something was the matter. Mr Pitt had left them; the evening was cold and stormy, a southwest gale was blowing, and the wind tore at the windows and howled drearily round the house. Winifred only waited until Bessie had gone to bed--a concession to years of half an hour against which that young lady nightly rebelled--before she asked her father what had happened, and whether Mr Pitt had brought any bad news. "Yes, he has," said the Squire doggedly; "very bad news. It's well the poor old Vicar should be dead and gone." And then he told her. As he went bluntly through Mr Pitt's account he once or twice looked curiously at her, for, in spite of his disclaimer, he could not help remembering that other hint which the lawyer had let drop, that Winifred was dear to Anthony. "If it is so, she'll have hysterics or something; that's how girls always show it." To his relief, however, Winifred did not so much as utter an exclamation. If he had been quick to notice, he might have observed a little proud up-drawing of her head, and a sudden light in her eyes; but we are all apt to read only those signs for which we are on the lookout, and the Squire drew a long breath of relief. "What do you think of this?" he said, when he had finished. "Did Mr Pitt really tell you such an absurd story?" said Winifred, smiling. Her treating the matter lightly was unfortunate, for her father had been made so wretched all day that it irritated him to have it supposed that he was throwing away his sympathies; and his love of contradiction was such that every instinct of his nature arrayed him on the side that was assailed, so that he began at once to adopt Mr Pitt's opinion as his own, to hasten to its defence, to run his thoughts more keenly over its possibilities. He flustered a little directly. "It's very well for you to laugh, since you don't understand anything at all about it. Is Pitt a likely man to concoct a bundle of lies?" "I don't know, I am sure," she said, looking at him with astonishment. "But you do not mean that anything he could say would make you believe such a story of Anthony?" "Well, explain it, explain it," said the Squire grimly, "that's all." Winifred sat forward, and began to speak with more impetuosity. "That Anthony should--" she began, and then suddenly broke off and laughed outright. "It is so very ridiculous!" she said.