It had seemed to her a trifling thing, this sacrifice, so long as no love had ever entered her life, save her love towards her blind father. She would even have made a loveless marriage rather than have given him pain, for she wrongly believed that her one duty in life was to shield him, at all cost, from any kind of trouble. But the events of the past few days had insensibly wrought a change in her. She saw now that the sacrifice of her life would involve deep pain to another; and in the light of this new love a hundred doubts and fears, which had never troubled her before, now woke into active being. Foremost amongst these was the haunting dread which Phil’s warning had aroused. Would this man to whom she was pledged really give her back her word? Or had he been deceiving her? She had never doubted Tor before, and she certainly need not have doubted him now; but if love brings with it a thousand bright hopes, it as certainly brings quite as many nervous fears. Phil had unconsciously infected her with some of his own distrust of the man who passed as master of Ladywell, and she began to tremble lest he had deceived her, as the Signor said he had deceived others before. She tried to rid herself of these thoughts, she always spoke on behalf of ‘Mr. Debenham’ when he was attacked, yet the cold fear which had clutched at her heart would not relax its grip. She had seen very little of Tor lately, which partly accounted for this change in her feelings. There was something straightforward and kindly in his presence, that always gave her confidence, and would have driven away her fears had she but seen him frequently face to face; but of late he had had much to occupy his time and thoughts, and he felt it well, under existing circumstances, to see but little of Roma. True, not many days had passed since he had paid a hurried visit to her studio; but that did not count for much, and it seemed to her a long, long while since they had spoken together of their mutual understanding respecting their nominal engagement. The girl’s heart was heavy, and her face was pale when she met their guest at the breakfast-table upon the following day. Phil saw this, and indignation waxed hot within him. That morning Roma declined to allow him to enter her studio. She wanted, she said, to work hard, and should do so better alone. Phil walked across the park to Ladywell, and wandered aimlessly about in its grounds and gardens, thinking bitter thoughts of his strange and anomalous position—a trespasser and an alien upon his own property. He saw no one but a few gardeners, who looked curiously at him, but made no remark upon his presence there. He wandered at will amongst the flowers and shrubs, remarking to himself upon the beautiful order which reigned there, and wondering whether under his rule—if ever he obtained his own—things would be as well kept up.