I don't know much of my father, but I can't believe that he would do anything underhand." He stopped suddenly as the bagman's remarks flashed across his memory.

"If your father's grievance against him is just, why--ah, well, you'll have to cut me when we meet; but I don't think it is; and I don't think it would be fair to treat me as if _I_'d done something wrong." Her brows came together, and she looked at him as if she were puzzled.
"I don't know why it matters," she said.
"Well, I can't tell you," he said, helplessly.

"I only know that I don't want to part from you this morning, knowing that the next time we meet we should meet as strangers.

I wanted to come to the Hall, to enquire after Mr.Heron." Her face flushed.
"Do not," she said in a low voice.
"I won't, of course," he responded, quickly.

"It would only make matters worse; your father would naturally dislike me, refuse to see me; but--well, it's very hard on me." She looked at him again, gravely, thoughtfully, as if she were still puzzled by his persistence.