The intemperance of his father's conduct and words had on young Anthony precisely the opposite effect to that intended. It opened the young man's eyes to the gravity of his conduct. Without answering his father he went to Willsworthy, leaving the old man satisfied that he had overborne his son's resolution to make amend for his offence. Whether this would have happened had not Urith produced so strong an impression on his heart the previous day, and enlisted him on her side, may well be questioned; for the visit of apology involved an acknowledgment of wrong-doing which was not readily made by Anthony. He was thinking over, and wondering at, his father's conduct, when Urith entered the hall, and expressed surprise at seeing him. "I tarried," said he, "to know how it fared with your mother." Urith replied, somewhat stiffly, "The shock of hearing what you have done has given her a fit." "She has had them before." "Oh, yes. She cannot endure violent emotion, and your behaviour----" "I have said I am sorry; what can I do more? Tell me, and I will do it. The stake was rotten, and broke off. If you will, I will have a stone slab placed on the grave at my own cost." Urith flushed dark. "That I refuse in my mother's name and in mine. We will not be beholden to you--to any stranger--in such a matter; and after what has been done, certainly not to you." Anthony stamped with impatience. "I have told you I am sorry. I never made an apology to any one in my life before. I supposed that an apology offered was at once frankly accepted. I have told you it was all a mistake. I intended no ill. It was a pitch-black night--I could not see what I laid hold of. My act was, if you will, an act of folly--but have you never committed acts of folly? You ran away from home yesterday. Did not that trouble your mother, and occasion greater perturbation of feeling?" Urith looked down. "Yes," she said, "one foolery followed another. First came mine, then yours. The two combined were too much for my mother to endure." "We are a couple of fools; be it so," said Anthony. "Now that is settled. Young folks' brains are not ripened, but are like the pith in early hazel nuts. It is not their fault if they act foolishly. That is settled. You believed my account. I never lie, though I be a fool." "Yes, I have accepted your account, and I, in part, forgive you." "In part! By Heaven, that is a motley forgiveness--a fool's forgiveness. I must have a complete one. Come here. Come to this window. Why should I shout across the hall to you, and you stand with your back turned to me, as though we were on opposite sides of the Cleave?" He spoke with as much imperiousness as if he were in his own house, commanded her as though he expected of her as ready submission as was accorded him by his sister. "What do you want with me? I do not care to go near a man subject to such outbreaks of folly."