“I am sorry I must disappoint you,” said Richard.

Lady Ann rose with a gray glitter in her eyes.

“Am I to understand that you intend calling on the Wylders?” she said.

“I have imperative reasons for calling upon them this very morning,” answered Richard, rising.

“I am sorry you should so immediately show your antagonism!” said lady Ann.

“My obligations to Miss Wylder are such that I must see her at the first possible opportunity.”

“Have you asked your father’s permission?”

“I have not,” answered Richard, and left the room hurriedly.

The next moment he was out of the house. Lady Ann might go to his father, and he would gladly avoid the necessity of disobeying him the first morning after his return. He did not know how small her influence was with her husband.

He took the path across the fields, and ran until he was out of sight of Mortgrange.

— Fifty-Two —

Heart to Heart

When he came to the parsonage, which he had to pass on his way to Wylder Hall, Richard saw Mr. Wingfold through the open window of the drawing room, and turned to the door. The parson met him on the threshold.

“Welcome!” he said. “How did you get through your dinner?”

“Better than I expected,” replied Richard. “But this morning my stepmother asked me to promise not to call on the Wylders. They have been rude to her, she said.”

“Come inside. A friend of mine is here who will be glad to see you.”

The drawing room of the parsonage was low and dark, with its two windows close together on the same side. At the farther end stood a lady, seemingly occupied with an engraving on the wall. She did not move when they entered. Wingfold led Richard up to her, then turned without a word and left the room. Before either knew it, they were each in the other’s arms.

Barbara was sobbing. Richard thought he had dared too much and frightened her.

“I couldn’t help it!” Barbara said pleadingly.

“My life has been a longing for you!” said Richard.

“I have wanted you every day!” said Barbara, and again began to sob, but recovered herself with an effort.

“This will never do,” she cried, laughing through her tears. “I shall go crazy with having you! And I’ve not even seen you yet. Let me go, please. I want to look at you!”

Richard released her. She lifted a blushing, tearful face to his. But there was only joy, no pain in her tears—only delight, no shame in her blushes. One glance at the simple manly face before her, so full of the trust that induces trust, would have satisfied any true woman that she was as safe in his thoughts as in those of her mother. She gazed at him one long silent moment.

“How splendid you are!” she cried like a schoolgirl. “How good of you to grow like that! I wish I could see you on Miss Brown! What are you going to do, Richard?”