The winter passed quickly for all that. Rhoda and Caryl became so devoted to each other that the thought of a possible parting, which was ever present to the woman and which often occurred to the child, grew more and more painful. But at Christmas time there occurred one incident which afforded Rhoda for the time a little consolation. It was a visit from Jack Rotherfield. He arrived at the Priory one afternoon just after luncheon, and had a long interview with Lady Eridge in the drawing-room, at the end of which the marchioness sent for Rhoda. The marchioness rose from her chair, and, advancing towards the girl, who uttered an exclamation of horror on seeing who the visitor was, said in her ear, “He has behaved well to us, and he wishes to make some sort of apology to you.” And with these words the marchioness left them together. Jack, who was looking thin and ill, came frankly towards Rhoda. He did not attempt to shake hands: “I suppose you are surprised to see me, Miss Pembury,” he said. “But as Lady Eridge sent for me to explain certain stories about poor Lady Sarah and me, which had come to her ears, I thought I should like to see you and to ask your forgiveness for my share in making you lose your home at the Mill-house.” Rhoda was not ready with an answer, and she murmured some indistinct and rather cold words of acknowledgment. “I know you did your best for her,” he said frankly; “and that you were perfectly right in doing what I so much resented. All the same, she would never have been happy with Sir Robert. And you know it. She irritated him, and she got on his nerves. They were an ill-matched pair from the first.” “Why have you come?” asked Rhoda abruptly. “Lady Eridge sent for me, as I told you. She had heard about those interviews poor Lady Sarah and I had before she was married. I told her everything. And I wanted to thank you for holding your tongue. You might have done for me altogether if you had appeared at the inquest, or if you had talked afterwards. I beg your pardon with all my heart for any harm I have ever done you, or for any I, in my mad rage, may have wished to do you.” Rhoda could not but think that this frankness in a man of his character came perilously near to effrontery. But she was not inclined to stir up the ashes of dead resentments, and she told him that, if Sir Robert could forgive him, she would not hold back. “I am writing to him to-night,” said Jack. The interview was not very long, but when it was over and Jack Rotherfield had gone away, she fell to wondering what he would say about her in his letter to Sir Robert. Her heart was still very sore about the departure of the baronet without a word of farewell to her, and she felt that he still associated her unfairly in his mind with all his misfortunes. It was true, indeed, that she had always been at the Mill-house when they happened.