” She thought of her father, and with an effort dismissed him from her mind. What was his astonishment to recognise in the few words they uttered the voices of Kneebone and Winifred! The latter was apparently in great distress, and the former seemed to be using his best efforts to relieve her anxiety. Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. ” She gave herself permission now to look at this squarely. “That was a moment of madness,” she said. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. “So very clear and cold,” she said. Twelve years, then, have elapsed since the date of the occurrences detailed in the preceding division of this history. Her sister’s words were true. ‘Leonardo again,’ he growled.
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