Sometimes there was a dispute about a word or a rendering; she would put up her own view, with obstinacy, so that he might have the pleasure of knocking it down.

And all through there was the growing sense of comradeship, of mutual understanding, which, in their classical work at least, had been always present for Elizabeth, since her first acquaintance with her strange employer.
When she rose, reluctantly, at the sound of the dressing-bell, the Squire paced up and down while she put her books and papers away.
Then as she was going, he turned abruptly-- 'I told Forest to order the _Times_--will you see he does it ?' 'Certainly.' 'I loathe all newspapers,' he said sombrely.

'If we must go to the devil, I don't want to know too much about it.

But still--' She waited a moment, but as nothing more came she was leaving the room, when he added-- 'And don't forget the timber business to-morrow afternoon.

Tell Dell to meet us in Cross Wood.' * * * * * When she had gone, the Squire still continued pacing, absorbed in meeting the attack of new and strange ideas.