'Mother,' interposed Winefred, 'I have a word to say. My father had not the purpose that you attribute to him. He spoke no word about it. He never hinted at any such thing. There has been a mistake somewhere. You are hard upon him, too hard. He has been indulgent to me, he could not have been more kind. Whenever he has spoken of you, it has been with a tremble in his voice, and I know that his heart has been full. I do not believe that he has ever forgotten you, ever ceased to love you. Now, dear mother, set your mind at rest. Parted we shall not be, and in token of that I will go home with you to-morrow.'
Mr. Holwood came hesitatingly forward and raised his hand in deprecation.
'There is no occasion,' said Mrs. Marley. 'I have seen you. That suffices. Stay on. You are learning much here.'
'Mother, I also have a longing to be with you—if for a few weeks only. I have spent some little time with my father. It is right that now I should be with you. If he loves me, and he finds that he also cannot do without me, then he will come to Bindon Undercliff and fetch me thence, to take me back to Bath.'
Then Winefred put her arms round her mother and kissed her.
'How you love me!' she said.
She disengaged herself, and putting her arms round the neck of her father she said: 'And you, father, have come to love me.'
'Yes.'
'Surely, father, if you love me; and you, mother, if you also love me, you cannot hate each other.'