It was human nature that, at the moment, Lance's regard should seem to her more precious than ever before. No woman is ready to resign her lover because she has ceased to be pleasing in his sight.
She stood by his side, watching, with eyes that swam in tears, the great raw-boned Dalesmen slouching round the sloping, bumpy course with limbs all abroad, yet keeping up a pace that was undeniable, as they completed lap after lap of the walking race, which was the great event of the day, a professional champion from another county being entered for it.
Outwardly she maintained her pride and spirit. She smiled and chatted to Lance so naturally that he began to forget his uneasiness.
"Curious," he observed to her presently, "that I never heard of your father's children."
"Vrouw Lutwyche cast me off," said Millie. "She repudiated me. I never expected to hear of her again. They are well-to-do; there seemed no reason why they should trouble themselves; they only wanted to be rid of me."
"Still, they are your father's children."
"Oh," she said, in her hardest voice, "I suppose so; but nobody could think it. They are all Boer, through and through. I could not love them. I am a cold person, as you know. I should have told you of them, if I had not made quite sure you knew."
He did not reply for a moment; when he did, what he said startled her.
"It at least shows how far we have been from perfect confidence."
She looked at him astonished, taken aback. He was studying the race card.