This view of her family's watchful mistrust as a manifest sign of their devotion was new to Prudence and afforded her amusement. She wondered whether he was altogether sincere in what he said, or if he were indulging in unsuspected satire. "I find it a little trying sometimes to be the family pet," she returned demurely. "The position is rather like that of the cat of the house which gets called indoors when it would prefer to remain in the garden. I wonder myself at times why the cat obeys the summons." He experienced a little difficulty in following her train of thought. "It's thinking of the milk, I suppose," he suggested, whereat Prudence laughed. "I dare say that explains it--economic dependence explains many uncomfortable things. I haven't much sympathy with the domesticated cat," she added. "She should ignore the call, and remain in the garden and eat birds." "Surely," he said, a little pained, "you wouldn't wish it to do that? It's so cruel." "So is eating mutton," she answered flippantly; "but we all do it." He digested this for a moment, found no adequate answer, and turned the conversation. "I was thinking of you as I rode," he said, in tones into which he threw an inflection of tenderness which she could not fail to detect. "I scarcely dared to expect so much happiness as to meet you like this. You are a tremendous walker. Do you realise how far you are from home?" He still hoped to induce her to turn and walk back with him. He would be late for his meeting in any case. He was too mentally flurried to decide how he should explain the defection: he was not very ready at invention; but the sight of Prudence's fair indifferent face drove him to the verge of recklessness; no consideration at the moment was strong enough to tear him from her side. "The farther the better," Prudence answered. "I am walking into the sunset." She turned her face to the westering sun and the warm glow in the sky that lit its declining glory. "When I turn about I see only the chimneys; they blot out everything for me." "But one can't see them from this distance," he insisted, and paused and looked back to verify his statement. Prudence smiled faintly. "I can," she said. "I see them even in my dreams." "I think myself they look rather fine," he said. "The red bricks against the trees are arresting." "Yes," she agreed, and smiled at him more directly. He felt that he had struck a happy note and was unnecessarily elated. "All great industries appeal to me," he continued as they walked on again. "I'm tremendously interested in the factory--and in the workpeople. They are so human and yet simple. I enjoy working among them. And Mr Graynor is so generous. The workpeople think very highly of him. I have been very happy in my labours since coming here." Prudence, missing the guile in this, looked at him in astonishment. "Really!" she said. "You are easily pleased."