own. He will probably go abroad; but in any case he will not get in
your way."

"I wasn't thinking of him," Dinah said.

"Then of what?" he questioned. "Your mother? I will see her, and make
that all right."

She started and lifted her face. "Oh no! Oh no! You must never dream of
doing that!" she declared, with sudden fevered urgency. "I couldn't bear
you to see her. You mustn't think of it, indeed--indeed! Why I would
even--even sooner go back myself."

"Then I must write to her," he said, gently ceding the point. "It is not
essential that I should see her. Possibly even, a letter would be
preferable."

Dinah's face had flushed fiery red. She did not meet his eyes. "I don't
see why you should have anything to do with her," she said. "You would
never get her to consent."

"Then I propose that we act first," said Scott. "Isabel is leaving
to-day. You can join her at Great Mallowes and go on together. I shall
follow in a couple of days. There are several matters to be attended to
first. But Isabel and Biddy will take care of you. Come, my dear, you
won't dislike that so very badly!"

"Dislike it!" Dinah caught back another sob. "I should love it above all
things if it were possible. But it isn't--it isn't."

"Why not?" he questioned. "Surely your father would not raise any
objection?"

She shook her head. "No--no! He doesn't care what happens to me. I used
to think he did; but he doesn't--he doesn't."

"Then what is the difficulty?" asked Scott.

She was silent, and he saw the hot colour spreading over her neck as she
turned her face away.

"Won't you tell me?" he urged gently. "Is there some particular reason
why you want to stay?"

"Oh no! I'm not going to stay." Quickly she made answer. "I am never
going back. I couldn't after--after--" She broke off in quivering
distress.

"I think your mother will be sorry presently," he said. "People with
violent tempers generally repent very deeply afterwards."

Dinah turned upon him suddenly and hotly. "She will never repent!" she
declared. "She hates me. She has always hated me. And I hate her--hate
her--hate her!"

The concentrated passion of her made her vibrate from head to foot. Her
eyes glittered like emeralds. She was possessed by such a fury of hatred
as made her scarcely recognizable.

Scott looked at her steadily for a moment or two. Then: "But it does you
more harm than good to say so," he said. "And it doesn't answer my
question, does it? Dinah,