 gained in his studious solitude. It
was evident that by keeping silence he had caused Sidwell to throw off something
of her reserve. The course dictated by prudence was to maintain an attitude of
dignity, to hold himself in check. In this way he would regain what he had so
disastrously lost, Sidwell's respect. There was a distinct pleasure in this
exercise of self-command; it was something new to him; it flattered his pride.
»Let her learn that, after all, I am her superior. Let her fear to lose me.
Then, if her love is still to be depended upon, she will before long find a way
to our union. It is in her power, if only she wills it.«
    So he sat down and wrote a short letter which seemed to him a model of
dignified expression.
 

                                       IV

Sidwell took no one into her confidence. The case was not one for counsel;
whatever her future action, it must result from the maturing of self-knowledge,
from the effect of circumstance upon her mind and heart. For the present she
could live in silence.
    »We hear,« she wrote from London to Sylvia Moorhouse, »that Mr. Peak has
left Exeter, and that he is not likely to carry out his intention of being
ordained. You, I daresay, will feel no surprise.« Nothing more than that; and
Sylvia's comments in reply were equally brief.
    Martin Warricombe, after conversations with his wife and with Buckland, felt
it impossible not to seek for an understanding of Sidwell's share in the
catastrophe. He was gravely perturbed, feeling that with himself lay the chief
responsibility for what had happened. Buckland's attitude was that of the man
who can only keep repeating I told you so; Mrs. Warricombe could only lament and
upbraid in the worse than profitless fashion natural to women of her stamp. But
in his daughter Martin had every kind of faith, and he longed to speak to her
without reserve. Two days after her return from Exeter, he took Sidwell apart,
and, with a distressing sense of the delicacy of the situation, tried to
persuade her to frank utterance.
    »I have been hearing strange reports,« he began, gravely, but without show
of displeasure. »Can you help me to understand the real facts of the case,
Sidwell? - What is your view of Peak's behaviour?«
    »He has deceived you, father,« was the quiet reply.
    »You are convinced of that? - It allows of no -?«
