"But why should he hate my father?"
"You surely know——" Then he hesitated.
"I know nothing," she answered. "What is the ground of his dislike?"
"Ah, here is Mr. Tregonning's carriage," he said, in a tone of relief. "Now I must run away. Keep your heart up, and don't worry any more than you can help."
For several moments she walked up and down the room with a restless yet undecided step. Then she made suddenly for the door, and three minutes later she might have been seen hurrying along the drive in the swiftly gathering darkness as fast as her feet could carry her.
"I'll see him for myself," she said, with a resolute light in her eyes. "I'll get the truth from his own lips. I'm sure he will not lie to me."
It was quite dark when she reached the village, save for the twinkling lights in cottage windows.
She met a few people, but no one recognised her, enveloped as she was in a heavy cloak. For a moment or two she paused before the door of the Penlogans' cottage. Her heart was beating very fast, and she felt like a bird of evil omen. If Ralph was innocent, then he knew nothing of the trouble that was looming ahead, and she would be the petrel to announce the coming storm.
She gave a timid rat-tat at the door, and after a moment or two it was opened by Ruth.
"Why, Miss Dorothy!" And Ruth started back in surprise.