A draught of cold morning air struck her face, sweeping from the west; it had driven the fog in great gray banks upon the hills, or in shimmering swamps into the cleft hollows: a vague twilight filled the space left bare.

Tiger, asleep in the hall, rushed out into the meadow, barking, wild with the freshness and cold, then back again to tear round her for a noisy good-morning.

The touch of the dog seemed to bring her closer to his master; she put him away; she dared not suffer even that treachery to her purpose: the very circumstances that had forced her to give him up made it weak cowardice to turn again.

It was a simple story, yet one which she dared not tell to herself; for it was not altogether for her father's sake she had made the sacrifice.

She knew, that, though she might be near to this man Holmes as his own soul, she was a clog on him,--stood in his way,--kept him back.