ft?" cried the widow, bursting in and
rushing forward with extended hand.

The farmer turned away and looked as if made of stone.

Changing her tactics instantly, she put her handkerchief to her eyes
and moaned, "You never can have the heart to say I can't come and see
my child. I've signed writings, 'tis true, under threats and
compulsions; but I trust there will be relentings--"

"There won't be one relent!" cried Jane. "I never want to see you
again, and a blind post could see that he doesn't."

"Jane," said Holcroft sternly, "don't speak so again. If strangers can
be kind and patient with you, you can be so with your mother. She has
no claims on me and has said things which make it impossible for me to
speak to her again, but I shall insist on your visiting and treating
her kindly. Goodbye, Watterly. You've proved yourself a friend
again," and he went rapidly away, followed by Jane.

Mrs. Mumpson was so taken aback by Holcroft's final words and
Watterly's stern manner as he said, "This is my office," that for once
in her life she disappeared silently.

Holcroft soon purchased the articles on his list, meanwhile racking his
brains to think of something that he could buy for Alida, but the fear
of being thought sentimental and of appearing to seek a personal regard
for himself, not "nominated in the bond," restrained him.

On his way home he was again sunk in deep abstraction, but the
bitterness of his feeling had passed away. Although as mistaken as
before in his apprehension of Alida, his thoughts were kinder and
juster. "I've no right to find fault or complain," he said to himself.
"She's done all I asked and better than she agreed, and there's no one
to blame if she can't do more. It must have been plain enough to her
at first that I didn't want anything but a housekeeper--a quiet,
friendly body that would look after the house and dairy, and she's done
better than I even hoped. That's just the trouble; she's turned out so
different from what I expected, and looks so different from what she
did, that I'm just sort of carried away. I'd give half the farm if she
was sitting by my side this June evening and I could tell her all I
feel and know she was glad. I must be just and fair to her. I asked
her to agree to one thing and now I'm beginning to want a tremendous
sight more--I want her to like not only her home and work and the quiet
life she so longed for, but I want her to like me, to enjoy my soci