“Can you keep a secret?” rejoined Simon. “I’m not sure I’m being altogether within the law, but if I didn’t think you fit, I shouldn’t say a word.”

“Don’t tell me if it is anything I shouldn’t know.”

“Then I’ll tell you at my own risk, for you’re the right sort to trust. I’ll bind you with no promises, only don’t tell anyone of it without letting me know first. It’s just this—Richard’s gone to the university!”

Bab slid from Miss Brown’s back, flung her arms, with the bridle on one of them, round the blacksmith’s neck, and kissed the old man for the good news.

“Miss! Miss! Your clean face!” cried the blacksmith.

“Oh, Richard! Richard! You will be happy now!” she said. “But will he ever shoe Miss Brown again, grandfather?”

“Many’s the time, I trust,” answered Simon. “He’ll be proud to do it. If not, he never was worth a smile from your sweet mouth.”

“He’ll be a great man someday!” she laughed, with a little quiver of the mouth.

“He’s a good man now,” answered the smith. “As long as a son of mine can look every man in the face, I don’t care whether it be great or small he is.”

“But wouldn’t it be better still if he could look God in the face?”

“You’re right there, my pretty dove!” replied the old man. “Only a body can’t say everything out in one breath. But you’re right, you are right!” he went on. “I remember well the time when I thought I had nothing to be ashamed of. But the time came when I was ashamed of many things, and I’d done nothing worse in the meantime! When a man first gets a peep inside himself, he sees things he didn’t look to see—and they stagger him a bit! Now mind, I haven’t told you what university he’s gone to. But I will let him know that I’ve told you that much, because he couldn’t tell you himself, being that he’s bound to hold his tongue.”

Barbara went home happy. His grandfather recognized the bond between them! As to Richard, he had no fear of his forgetting her.

With more energy still she went about her duties, and they seemed to grow as she did them. As the end of Mark’s sickness approached, he became more and more dependent on her. He loved his father deeply, but his father never stayed more than a moment or two in the sickroom.

Mark at length went away to find his twin. His mother and Barbara wept, but not all in sorrow.

One morning, the week after Mark’s death, Mr. Wylder asked Barbara to go with him to his study—where, indeed, about as much study went on as in a squirrel’s nest. After a solemn prologue as to its having been right and natural while she was a girl with a brother that she should be allowed a great deal of freedom, he said that now, circumstances being changed, such freedom could no longer be given her. She was now sole heiress, and must behave as an heir, namely, by consulting the interests of the family. In those interests, he continued, it was necessary that he should strengthen as much as possible his influence in the county. It was time also that, for her own sake, she should marry, and better husband or fitter son-in-law than Mr. Lestrange could not be desired. He was well-behaved and good-looking, and when Mortgrange joined with Wylder, they would have far the finest estate in the county!