o him. He
could not but smart under it.

'Not a word,' he said, tossing his hair back impetuously, as Catherine
stood opposite watching him--'not one single word about the miserable
people themselves! What kind of stuff can the man be made off?'

'Does he believe you?' asked Catherine, bewildered.

'If not, one must try and make him,' he said energetically, after a
moment's pause. 'To-morrow, Catherine, I go down to the Hall and see
him.'

She quietly acquiesced, and the following afternoon, first thing after
luncheon, she watched him go, her tender inspiring look dwelling with
him as he crossed the park, which was lying delicately wrapped in one of
the whitest of autumnal mists, the sun just playing through it with pale
invading shafts.

The butler looked at him with some doubtfulness. It was never safe to
admit visitors for the squire without orders. But he and Robert had
special relations. As the possessor of a bass voice worthy of his girth,
Vincent, under Robert's rule, had become the pillar of the choir, and it
was not easy for him to refuse the rector.

So Robert was led in, through the hall, and down the long passage to the
curtained door, which he knew so well.

'Mr. Elsmere, sir!'

There was a sudden hasty movement. Robert passed a magnificent lacquered
screen newly placed round the door, and found himself in the squire's
presence.

The squire had half risen from his seat in a capacious chair, with a
litter of books round it, and confronted his visitor with a look of
surprised annoyance. The figure of the rector, tall, thin, and youthful,
stood out against the delicate browns and whites of the book-lined
walls. The great room, so impressively bare when Robert and Langham had
last seen it, was now full of the signs of a busy man's constant
habitation. An odour of smoke pervaded it; the table in the window was
piled with books just unpacked, and the half-emptied case from which
they had been taken lay on the ground beside the squire's chair.

'I persuaded Vincent to admit me, Mr. Wendover,' said Robert, advancing
hat in hand, while the squire hastily put down the German professor's
pipe he had just been enjoying, and coldly accepted his proffered
greeting. 'I should have preferred not to disturb you without an
appointment, but after your letter it seemed to me some prompt personal
explanation was necessary.'

The squire stiffly motioned towards a chair, which Robert took, and then
slipped back int