I was kissed by my aunt before she went.

She whispered, 'Come to us when you are free; think of us when you pray.' She was full of tears.

Mr.
Bannerbridge patted my head.
The door closed on them and I thought it was a vision that had passed.
But now my father set my heart panting with questions as to the terrible possibility of us two ever being separated.

In some way he painted my grandfather so black that I declared earnestly I would rather die than go to Riversley; I would never utter the name of the place where there was evil speaking of the one I loved dearest.

'Do not, my son,' he said solemnly, 'or it parts us two.' I repeated after him, 'I am a Roy and not a Beltham.' It was enough to hear that insult and shame had been cast on him at Riversley for me to hate the name of the place.