Mina marked the change in him--the new expansiveness, the new appeal for sympathy. He had forgotten his suspicion and his watchfulness; she was inclined to say that he had forgotten himself. On her death-bed Addie Tristram had exerted her charm once more--and over her own son. Once more a man, whatever his own position, thought mainly of her--and that man was her son. Did Neeld see this? To Neeld it came as the strongest reinforcement to the feelings which bade him hold his peace. It seemed an appeal to him, straight from the death-bed in the valley below. Harry found the old gentleman's gaze fixed intently on him. "I beg your pardon for troubling you with all this, Mr Neeld," he said, relapsing rather into his defensive attitude. "Madame Zabriska knows my ways." "No, I don't think I know this new way of yours at all," she objected. "But I like it, Mr Tristram. I feel all you do. I have seen her." She turned to Neeld. "Oh, how I wish you had!" she cried. Her earnestness stirred a little curiosity in Harry. He glanced with his old wariness at Neeld. But what could he see save a kindly precise old gentleman, who was unimportant to him but seemed interested in what he said. He turned back to Mina, asking: "A new way of mine?" "Well, not quite. You were rather like it once. But generally you've got a veil before your face. Or perhaps you're really changed?" He thought for a moment. "Things change a man." And he added, "I'm only twenty-two." "Yes, I know," she smiled, "though I constantly forget it all the same." "Well, twenty-three, come the twentieth of July," said he. His eyes were on hers, his characteristic smile on his lips. It was a challenge to her. "I shan't forget the date," she answered, answering his look too. He sighed lightly; he was assured that she was with him. The twentieth of July! The Editor of Mr Cholderton's Journal sat by listening; he raised no voice in protest. "I must get back," said Harry. "Walk with me to the dip of the hill." With a glance of apology to Neeld, she followed him and stepped out of the window; there were two steps at the side leading up to it. "I'll be back directly," she cried over her shoulder, as she joined Harry Tristram. They walked to the gate which marked the end of the terrace on which Merrion stood. "I'm so glad you came! You do believe in me now?" she asked. "Yes, and I'm not afraid. But do you know--it seems incredible to me--I'm not thinking of that now. I shall again directly, when it's over. But now--well, Blent won't seem much without my mother." "She couldn't rest if you weren't there," cried Mina, throwing back the impression she had received, as her disposition made her. "I haven't changed about that, but it will wait. Three days they say now--three days, or maybe four, and then--she goes." Together they stood, looking down. Mina's heart was very full. She was with the Tristrams indeed now, thick and thin; their cause seemed hers, their house must stand.