"Your husband angry because I rode a few miles farther to-day than usual? Dear mother, that is too absurd. I was sorry not to be at home in time to give you your afternoon tea, and I apologise to you with all my heart; but what can it matter to Captain Winstanley?"
"My dearest Violet, when will you understand that Conrad stands in the place of your dear father?"
"Never, mamma, for that is not true. God gave me one father, and I loved and honoured him with all my heart. There is no sacrifice he could have asked of me that I would not have made; no command of his, however difficult, that I would not have obeyed. But I will obey no spurious father. I recognise no duty that I owe to Captain Winstanley."
"You are a very cruel girl," wailed Pamela, "and your obstinacy is making my life miserable."
"Dear mother, how do I interfere with your happiness? You live your life, and I mine. You and Captain Winstanley take your own way, I mine. Is it a crime to be out riding a little longer than usual, that you should look so pale and the Captain so black when I come home?"
"It is worse than a crime, Violet; it is an impropriety."
Vixen blushed crimson, and turned upon her mother with an expression that was half startled, half indignant.
"What do you mean, mamma?"
"Had you been riding about the Forest all those hours alone, it would have been eccentric—unladylike—masculine even. You know that your habit of passing half your existence on horseback has always been a grief to me. But you were not alone."
"No, mamma, I was not alone. I had my oldest friend with me; one of the few people in this big world who care for me."