“Yes,” said Vine, with a shudder. “Crampton. He makes me shiver whenever we meet.”
His face grew agonised as he spoke; and he rose hastily and kissed Louise.
“You will not alter your mind and come?” he said tenderly.
“No, no, father; pray do not press me. I cannot go to-night.”
“Strange!” said George Vine thoughtfully. “Strange that she should want to stay.”
He had crossed the little rock garden, and closed the gate to stand looking back at the old granite house, dwelling sadly upon his children, and mingling thoughts of the determined refusal of Louise to come, with projects which he had had in petto for the benefit of his son.
He shuddered and turned to go along the level platform cut in the great slope before beginning the rapid descent.