"Yes," replied the girl.
"Of course, you've never spoken to him?"
To this she made no reply. She did not know why it was, but she felt she could not tell her father of their meeting in the fields behind Howden Clough.
"Well, I shall have to go up to Brunford myself in two or three weeks," continued Mr. Bolitho, "and, if you can, I hope you will go with me."
"Can we not stay at an hotel when we go again, father?" she asked.
"Why?" asked Mr. Bolitho, turning upon her quickly. "Have not the Wilsons always been kind to you? And do you not feel comfortable there? Besides, there is no hotel in Brunford that I care to stay at, and there's a sort of general understanding between Wilson and myself that we shall be his guests."
The girl was silent, and looked steadily on the floor.
"What is it, Mary? There's something wrong."
"Of course, I cannot be blind to young Wilson's attentions," she said, and her voice was hard as she spoke.
"Well, he's a decent fellow, and, on the whole, I like these Lancashire people. They may be a trifle rough, and, of course, the Wilsons belong to nouveaux riches class, but young Ned cannot help that; besides, say what we will, any girl might do worse than take Ned Wilson. I know, as a fact, that his father is making an enormous income, and Ned, being the only son, will be one of the richest men in Lancashire."