"When you go, Sir Percival," said Moore, more calmly, "the only objectionable feature will be removed."
Sir Percival did not deign to reply to this rudeness, but, stepping towards the girl, extended his arm in mute invitation. Mistress Dyke, however, had plans of her own, and was not to be thus led away.
"I thank you, Sir Percival," said she, "but I shall wait for my father."
Sir Percival raised his eyebrows disapprovingly, but was too wise to insist further, so took his departure with a courtly bow to the girl, and a sneering smile for Moore, who, quite unruffled, lighted an extra pair of candles in honor of his visitor.
As the sound of the baronet's steps died away in the hall Bessie gave a sigh of relief and sank down in the chair. Moore hesitated, then taking courage came to her side.
"Ah, Bessie," he said, softly. "I 've been starving for a sight of you. It is like the old times to see you again."
"But," said the girl in a chilly tone, "the old times are passed and done with. Nothing is as it was."
"You are wrong, Bessie," said Moore, gently. "My heart is the same."
Bessie rose from the chair and drew her shawl closer about her shoulders.
"Then it belongs to Winnie Farrell," she said in a determined tone.