She had just made the
greatest sacrifice that fate could require of her: she had rejected the
man she fondly loved. What were the slings and arrows of her
stepfather's petty malice compared with such a wrench as that?

She followed Captain Winstanley to the drawing-room. Here there was
more air; one long window was open, and the lace curtains were faintly
stirred by the night winds. A large moderator lamp burned upon Mrs.
Winstanley's favourite table--her books and basket of crewels were
there, but the lady of the house had retired.

"My mother has gone to bed, I suppose?" inquired Vixen.

"She has gone to her room, but I fear she is too much agitated to get
any rest. I would not allow her to wait here any longer for you."

"Is it so very late?" asked Vixen, with the most innocent air.

Her heart was beating violently, and her temper was not at its best.
She stood looking at the Captain, with a mischievous sparkle in her
eyes, and her whip tightly clenched.

She was thinking of that speech of Rorie's about the "sweetest
horsewhipping." She wondered whether Captain Winstanley had ever been
horsewhipped; whether that kind of chastisement was numbered in the sum
of his experiences. She opined not. The Captain was too astute a man to
bring himself in the way of such punishment. He would do things that
deserved horsewhipping, and get off scot free.

"It is a quarter-past eleven. I don't know whether you think that a
respectable hour for a young lady's evening ride. May I ask the motive
of this nocturnal expedition?"

"Certainly. You deprived Bates of a comfortable place--he has only been
in the situation forty years--and I went to get him another. I am happy
to say that I succeeded."

"And pray who is the chivalrous employer willing to receive my
dismissed servant without a character?"

"A very old friend of my father's--Mr. Vawdrey."

"I thought as much," retorted the Captain. "And it is to Mr. Vawdrey
you have been, late at night, unattended?"

"It is your fault that I went unattended. You have taken upon yourself
to dismiss my groom--the man who broke my first pony, the man my father
gave me for an attendant and protector, just as he gave me my horse.
You will take upon yourself to sell my horse next, I suppose?"

"I shall take a great deal more upon myself, before you and I have done
with each other, Miss Tempest," answered the Captain, pale with passion.

Never had Vixen seen him so strongly moved. The