CHAPTER XXII.
FIRESHIP AND GALLEON.
Meanwhile, the fair Christie was recovering nerve so fast, andestablished in such bouncing health again, by the red-wheat bread ofWhite Post Farm, that nothing less would satisfy her than to beard--ifthe metaphor applies to ladies--the lion in the den, the arch-accuser,in the very court of judgment. In a word, she would not rest until shestood face to face with Lady Waldron. She had thought of it often, andbecame quite eager in that determination, when her brother related toher what had passed, in his interview with Miss Waldron.
Truly it was an enterprise of great pith, for a fair young English girl,to confront the dark majestic foreign lady, stately, arrogant,imperious, and above all, embittered with a cruel wrong, fierce,malignant, rancorous. But for all that, Christie was resolved to do it;though perfectly aware that the Spanish lady would never be "at home" toher, if she could help it.
For this reason, and this alone, as she positively assured herself, didMiss Fox make so long a stay with Mrs. Gilham, the while she was quitewell enough to go back to Old Barn, and the path of duty led her to herbrother's side. But let her once return to that side, and all hope wouldbe lost of arranging an encounter with the slanderer; inasmuch as Dr.Jemmy would most sternly interdict it. Her good hostess, all the while,was only too glad to keep her; and so was another important member ofthe quiet household; and even the flippant Rosie was delighted to havesuch patterns. For Miss Fox had sent for a large supply of dresses, allthe way to Foxden, by the key-bugleman of the _Defiance_; because itwould save such a vast amount in carriage, while one was so near theGreat Western road. "I can't understand it," protested Doctor Jemmy. "Asif men ever could!" replied the young lady.
However, the sweetest slice of sugar-cane must have empty pores toosoon, and the last drop of honey drains out of the comb, and the silvervoice of the flute expires, and the petals of the fairest rose mustflag. All these ideas (which have been repeated, or repeated themselves,for some thousands of years) were present for the first time in allexistence--according to his conviction--in the mind of an exalted, yetdepressed, young farmer, one fine Monday morning. Miss Fox had receivedher very last despatch, to the tune of "Roast beef," that morning, andsad to say she had not cut the string, though her pretty fingers flirtedwith it.
"My dear," said Mrs. Gilham, longing much to see within, inasmuch as shestill had a tender heart for dainty tint, and true elegance of tone, "ifyou wish to save the string--fine whipcord every inch of it--Frank has apicker in the six-bladed knife his Godfather Farrant gave him, that willundo any knot that was ever tied by Samson." Upon him, she meantperhaps; however the result is quite the same.
"No, thank you," answered Christie, with a melancholy glance; "it hadbetter be put in my trunk, as it is. What induced them to send it, whenI'm just going away?"
"Going away! Next week, my dear, you may begin to think about it."
"To-morrow, I must go. I am as well as ever. Better a great deal, Iought to say. What did Dr. Gronow say on Saturday? And I came down here;not to enjoy myself, but to keep up the spirits of my poor dearbrother."
"Why his spirits are fine, Miss Fox. I only wish my poor dear Frank hada quarter of them. Last night I am sure--and a Sunday too, when you andmy son were gone to church----"
"To the little church close by, you mean, with Mrs. Coombes and Mary;because the sermon in the morning had felt so--so edifying."
"Yes to be sure. But when your brother came in, and was surprised notto find you with us, you know; his conversation--oh dear, oh dear,rather worldly-minded I must confess, bearing in mind what day itwas--but he and Rose they kept it up together, for the tip of her tongueis fit for anybody's ear-ring, as the ancient saying goes,--laughing,Miss Fox, and carrying on, till, although I was rather put out about it,and would have stopped any one but a visitor, I was absolutelycompelled, I assure you, to pull out my pocket-handkerchief. Oh, I don'tthink, there need be much fear about Doctor Jemmy's spirits!"
"But don't you think, Mrs. Gilham, it is chiefly his pride that supportshim? We do the same sort of thing sometimes. We go into the oppositeextreme, and talk and laugh, as if we were in the highest spirits,--whenwe--when we don't want to let somebody know that we care what hethinks."
"Oh, you have learned that, have you, my dear?" The old lady looked ather, with some surprise. "Well, well! Happy will be the man that you doit for."
Christie felt that she was blushing, and yet could not help giving onesharp glance at her simple hostess. And it would have gone hard withFrank Gilham's chances, if the maiden had spied any special meaning inthe eyes of his dear mother. But the elderly lady gazed benignant,reflecting softly upon the time when she had been put to those disguisesof the early maidenhood; which are but the face, with its first bloomupon it. For the plain truth was, that she did not wish her son to fallin love, for some ten years yet, at the age that had suited his father.And as for Miss Fox, half a glimpse at her parcels would show her entireunfitness.
"I shall never do it for any man," said Christie, in scorn of her ownsuggestion; "if I am anything, I am straightforward. And if ever I carefor any man, I shall give him my hand, and tell him so. Not, of course,till I know that he is gone upon me. But now I want to do a craftything. And money can do almost anything--except in love, Mrs. Gilham. Iwould not do it without your knowledge; for that would be a very meanreturn for all your kindness to me. I have made up my mind to see LadyWaldron, and tell her just what I think of her."
"My dear, Lady Waldron is nothing to me. The Gilhams have held theirown land, from the time of crossbows and battle-axes. Besides our own,we rent about fifty acres of the outside of the Waldron property. But ifthey can get more for it, let them do so. Everybody loved poor SirThomas; and it was a pleasure to have to deal with him. But there is nosuch feeling about her ladyship; noble enough to look at, but best todeal with at a distance."
"Well, I mean to see her at close quarters. She has behaved shamefullyto my brother. And who is she to frighten me? She is at the bottom ofall these wicked, wretched falsehoods, that go about. And she would noteven see him, to let him speak up for truth and justice. I call thatmean, and low, and nasty. Of course the subject is horrible to her; andperhaps,--well, perhaps I should have done the same. But for all that, Imean to see her; for I love fair play; and this is foul play."
"What a spirit you have, my dear! I should never have thought it was inyour gentle face. But you are in the right. And if I can help you--thatis, if you are equal to it----"
"I am more than equal to it, my dear friend. What is there to fear, withthe truth against black falsehoods?"
Mrs. Gilham turned her wedding-ring upon her "marriage-finger"--a thingshe never failed to do, when her heart was busy with the bygone days.Then she looked earnestly at her guest, and saw that the point to beconsidered was--not shall we attempt it, but how shall it be done?
"Your mind is entirely set upon it. And therefore we will do our best;"she promised. "But it cannot be managed in a moment. Will you allow meto consult my son? It seems like attacking a house almost. But I supposeit is fair, in a case like this."
"Perfectly fair. Indoors it must be, as there is no other chance. Athief must be caught inside a house, when he will not come out of it.And a person is no better than a thief, who locks her doors againstjustice."
When Frank was consulted, he was much against the scheme; but hisopposition was met more briefly than his mother's had been.
"Done it shall be; and if you will not help, it shall be done withoutyou"--was the attitude taken, not quite in words; but so that there wasno mistaking it. Then he changed sides suddenly, confuted his ownreasoning, and entered into the plan quite warmly; especially when itwas conceded that he might be near the house, if he thought proper, incase of anything too violent, or carried beyond what English ladiescould be expected to endure. For as all agreed, there was hardly anysaying what an arrogant foreigner might not attempt.
"I am quite aware that it will cost a large amount of bribe
ry," saidChristie, with a smile which proved her faith in her own powers in thatline; "will ten pounds do it, Mr. Frank, should you suppose?"
Though far gone in that brilliant and gloomy, nadir and zenith, tropicaland arctic, condition of the human mind, called love, Frank Gilham wasof English nature; which, though torn up by the roots, ceases not tostick fast to the main chance. And so much the nobler on his part wasthis, because the money was not his, nor ever likely so to be.
"I think that three pounds ought to do it, or even fifty shillings," hereplied, with an estimate perhaps too low of the worth of the Britishdomestic. "If we could choose a day when old Binstock is off duty, itwould save the biggest tip of all. And it would not matter what hethought afterwards, though doubtless he would be in a fury."
"Oh, I won't do it. I don't think I can do it. It does seem so nasty,and underhanded."
Coming now to the practical part, Miss Fox was suddenly struck with theobjections.
"My dear, I am very glad that you have come to see it in such a properlight;" cried Mrs. Gilham a little prematurely, while her son noddedvery sagely, ready to say "Amen" to either side, according to the finaljump of the vacillating reasoner.
"No, but I won't then. I won't see it so. When people behave mostimproperly to you, are you bound to stand upon propriety with them? Justanswer me that, if you can, Mrs. Gilham. My mind is quite settled bythat consideration. I'll go in for it wholesale, Binstock and all, ifhe means a five-pound note for every stripe in his waistcoat."
"Mr. Binstock is much too grand to wear a striped waistcoat;" said Frankwith the gravity of one who understands his subject. "But he goes to seehis parents every Wednesday. And he will not be wronged in reality, forit will be worth all that to him, for the rise he will get by hisabsence."
"Binstock's parents! Why he must be over sixty!" exclaimed Frank'smother in amazement. She had greatly undervalued her son's knowledge.
"They are both in the poorhouse at Pumpington, the father eighty-fiveand the mother eighty-two. They married too early in life," said Frank,"and each of their fifteen children leaves the duty of supporting themto the other fourteen. Our Binstock is the most filial of the whole, forhe takes his parents two ounces of tobacco every Wednesday."
"The inhuman old miser!" cried Miss Fox. "He shall never have two penceout of me. That settles it. Mr. Frank, try for Wednesday."
"Well, Frank, you puzzle me altogether," said Mrs. Gilham with someannoyance. "To think of your knowing all those things, and never tellingyour own mother!"
"I never talk of my neighbour's affairs, until they become my ownbusiness." Frank pulled up his collars, and Christie said to herselfthat his mind was very large. "But don't run away with the idea, mother,that I ever pry into such small matters. I know them by the merestaccident. You know that the gamekeeper offers me a day or two when thewoodcocks come in; and Batts detests old Binstock. But he is on the verybest terms with Charles, and Bob, and Tamar Haddon. Through them I canmanage it perhaps for Wednesday, if Miss Fox thinks fit to entrust mewith the matter."
It happened that Lady Waldron held an important council with Mr. Webber,on the following Wednesday. She had long begun to feel the helplessness,and sad disadvantages of her position, as a foreigner who had never eventried to understand the Country in which she lived, or to make friendsof any of the people round her. And this left her so much the more atthe mercy of that dawdling old solicitor.
"Oh that I could only find my dear brother!" was the constant cry of hersorrow, and her wrath. "I wonder that he does not rush to help me. Hewould have done so long ago, if he had only known of this."
"No reply, no reply yet?" she asked, after listening, with patience thatsurprised herself, to the lawyer's long details of nothing, andexcellent reasons for doing still less. "Are you certain that you havehad my demand, my challenge, my supplication to my only brother enteredin all the Spanish journals, the titles of which I supplied to you? Andentered in places conspicuous?"
"In every one of them, madam, with instructions that all replies shouldbe sent to the office of the paper, and then direct to you. Thereforeyou would receive them, and not our firm. Shall we try in any othercountry?"
"Yes, oh yes! That is very good indeed. I was thinking of that onlyyesterday. My brother has much love for Paris sometimes, whenever he isin good--in affluence, as your expression is. For I have not concealedfrom you, Mr. Webber, that although of the very first families of Spain,the Count is not always--through caprice of fortune, his resources aredisposed to rise and fall. You should therefore try Paris, and Lyons,and Marseilles. It is not in my power to present the names of theprincipal journals. But they can be discovered, even in this country."
Mr. Webber was often hard put to it, by the lady's calm assumption thatbarbarism is the leading characteristic of an Englishman. For TheodoreWebber was no time-server; only bound by his duty to the firm, and hissense of loyal service to a client of lofty memory. And he knew that hecould take the lead of any English lady, because of her knowledge of hischaracter, and the way in which he pronounced it. But with this Spanishlady, all his really solid manner, and true English style were thrownaway.
"Even in this country, madam, we know the names of the less enlightenedJournals of the Continent. They are hard to read because of themiserable paper they are printed on; but my younger son has the gift oflanguages, and nothing is too outlandish for him. That also shall beattended to. And now about this question that arises between yourselfand Mr. Penniloe?"
"I will not yield. I will sign nothing. Everything shall be as myhusband did intend. And who can declare what that was, a stranger, orhis own wife, with the most convincing?"
"Yes, madam, that is true enough. But according to English law, we arebound by the words of the will; and unless those are doubtful, noevidence of intention is admissible, and even then----"
"I will not be bound by a--by an adaptation of words that was neverintended. What has a heretic minister to do with my family, and withWalderscourt?"
"But, madam, excuse me. Sir Thomas Waldron asked you, and you consented,to the appointment of the Rev. Philip Penniloe, as your co-executor, andco-trustee for your daughter, Miss Inez."
"If I did, it was only to please my husband, because he was in pain sosevere. It should have been my brother, or else my son. I have said toyou before, that after all that has been done, I refuse to adhere tothat interpretation."
The solicitor fixed his eyes on her, not in anger, but in pureastonishment. He had deep grey eyes in a rugged setting, with largewrinkles under, and dark gabled brows above; and he had never met a ladyyet--except his own wife--who was not overpowered by their solemnwisdom. Lady Waldron was not overpowered by them. In her ignorance ofEnglish usage, she regarded this gentleman of influence and trust, as nomore than a higher form of Binstock.
"I shall have to throw it up," said Mr. Webber to himself; "but oh, whatgorgeous picking, for that very low-principled Bubb and Cockshalt!" Theeminent firm he thought of thus were always prepared to take anything hemissed.
"Your ladyship is well aware," he said, being moved by that lastreflection, "that we cannot have anything perfect in this world, butmust take things as we find them. Mr. Penniloe is a most reasonable man,and acknowledges the value of my experience. He will not act in any wayagainst your wishes, so far as may be in conformity with sound legalpractice. That is the great point for us to consider, laying aside allearly impressions--which are generally loose when examined--of--ofContinental codes, and so on. We need not anticipate any trouble fromyour co-executor, who as a clergyman is to us a layman, if properconfidence is reposed in us. Already we are taking the regular steps toobtain Probate of a very simple will, prepared very carefully in ourOffice, and by exceedingly skilful hands. We act for Mr. Penniloe, aswell as for your ladyship. All is proceeding very smoothly, and exactlyas your dear husband would have wished."
"Then he would have wished to have his last rest dishonoured, and hisdaughter estranged from her own mother."
"
The young lady will probably come round, madam, as soon as youencourage her. Your mind is the stronger of the two, in every way. Withregard to that sad and shameful outrage, we are doing everything thatcan be done. We have very little doubt that if matters are left to ourjudgment, and discreet activity----"
"Activity, sir! And what have you done? How long is it--a month? Icannot reckon time, because day and night are the same thing to me. Willyou never detect that abominable crime? Will you never destroy thoseblack miscreants? Will you never restore--oh, I cannot speak of it--andall the time you know who did it all! There is no word strong enough inyour poor tongue, for such an outcast monster. Yet he goes about, heattends to his business, they shake him by the hand, they smile at him;instead of spit, they smile at him! And this is called a Christian land!My God, what made You make it?"
"I implore your ladyship not to be excited. Hitherto you have shown suchself-command. Day and night, we are on the watch, and something mustspeedily come of it. We have three modes of action, each one of themsure to be successful, with patience. But the point is this--to have nomistake about it, to catch him with evidence sufficient to convict him,and then to punish and disgrace him for ever."
"But how much longer before you will begin? I am so tired, so weary, soworn out--can you not see how it is destroying me?"
Mr. Webber looked at her, and could not deny that this was a verydifferent Lady Waldron from the one who had scarcely deigned to bow tohim, only a few months ago. The rich warm colour had left her cheeks,the large dark eyes were wan and sunken, weariness and dejection spread,where pride and strength of will had reigned. The lawyer replied in abolder tone than he would have employed, last summer.
"Lady Waldron, we can do no more. If we attempted any stronger measures,the only result would be to destroy our chance. If you think that anyother firm, or any kind of agency, would conduct matters more to yoursatisfaction, and more effectually than we have done, we would only askyou to place it in their hands. I assure you, madam, that the businessis not to our liking, or even to our benefit. For none but an old andmost valued client, would we have undertaken it. If you think proper, wewill withdraw, and hand over all information very gladly to oursuccessors."
"To whom can I go? Who will come to my rescue in this wicked, impious,accursed land? If my brother were here, is it possible to doubt what hewould do--how he would proceed? He would tear that young man, arm fromarm, and leg from leg, and lay him in the market-place, and shoot anyone who came to bury him. Listen, Mr. Webber, I live only for onething--to find my noble brother, and to see him do that."
The lady stood up, with her eyebrows knitted, her dark eyes glowing, andher white hands thrown apart and quivering, evidently tearing animaginary Jemmy.
"Let us hope for the best, madam, hope for the best, and pray for theblessing of the Almighty, upon our weak endeavours."
This was anything but a kind view to take of the dispersion of poorJemmy; but the lawyer was terrified for the moment by the lady'svehemence. That she who had hitherto always shown such self-command anddignity--he began to fear that there was too much truth in her accountof the effect upon her.
Suddenly, as if all her passion had been feigned--though none who hadseen, or even heard her, could believe that possible--she returned toher tranquil, self-possessed, and even cold and distant style. The firein her eyes, and the fury of her gestures sank and were gone, as if bymagic; and the voice became soft and musical, as the sound of a bellacross a summer sea.
"You will pardon me," she said, as she fell back into the chair, fromwhich in her passion she had risen; "but sometimes my trouble is moregreat than I can bear. Ladies of this country are so delicate andgentle, they cannot have much hatred, because they have no love. And yetthey can have insolence, very strong, and very wonderful. Yesterday, ortwo days ago, I obtained good proof of that. The sister of that man ishere--the man who has overwhelmed me thus--and she has written a letterto me, very quiet, very simple, very polite, requesting me to appoint aninterview for her in my own house;"--this had been done on Monday, atthe suggestion of Frank Gilham, that fair means should be exhaustedfirst--"but after writing thus, she has the insulting to put inunder--something like this, I remember very well--'if you refuse to seeme, I shall be compelled to come, without permission.' Reflect uponthat, Mr. Webber."
"Madam, it was not the proper thing to say. But ladies are, even whenvery young, a little--perhaps a little inclined to do, what they areinclined to."
"I sent her letter back, without a word, by the insolent person whobrought it. Just in the same manner as her wicked brother's card. It isquite certain that she will never dare to enter into my presence."
"You have made a mistake there, Lady Waldron. Here I am, to thank youfor your good manners; and to speak a few truths, which you cannotanswer."
Christie Fox walked up the room, with her eyes fixed steadfastly uponthe other's, made a very graceful curtsey, and stood, without even aribbon trembling. She was beautifully dressed, in dove-coloured silk,and looked like a dove, that has never been fluttered. All this LadyWaldron perceived at a glance; and knew that she had met her equal, in abrave young Englishwoman.
Mr. Webber, who longed to be far away, jumped about with some agility,and manoeuvred not to turn his back upon either of the ladies, while hefetched a chair for the visitor. But his trouble was lost, for theyounger lady declined with a wave of her hand; while the eldersaid--"Sir, I will thank you to ring the bell."
"That also is vain," said Miss Fox, calmly. "I will not leave this room,Lady Waldron, until I have told you my opinion of your conduct. The onlyquestion is--do you wish to hear it, in the presence of this gentleman;or do you wish me to wait until he is gone?"
To all appearances, the lawyer was by far the most nervous of the three;and he made off for the door, but received a sign to stop.
"It is just as well, perhaps, that you should not be alone," Christiebegan in a clear firm voice, with her bright eyes flashing, so that thedark Spanish orbs were but as dead coals in comparison, "and that youshould not be ashamed; because it proves at least that you are honest inyour lunatic conclusions. I am not speaking rudely. The greatestkindness that any one can do you, is to believe that you are mad."
So great was the force of her quiet conviction that Lady Waldron raisedone hand, and laid it upon her throbbing temples. For weeks she had beensleepless, and low, and feverish, dwelling on her wrongs in solitude,and estranged from her own daughter.
"Hush, hush, my good young lady!" pleaded the old Solicitor; but hisclient gazed heavily at her accuser, as if she could scarcely apprehend;and Christie thought that she did not care.
"You have done a most wicked thing;" Miss Fox continued in a lower tone,"as bad, in its way as the great wrong done to you. You have condemnedan innocent man, ruined his life to the utmost of your power, andrefused to let him even speak for himself. Is that what you calljustice?"
"He was not innocent. He was the base miscreant. We have the proof ofthe man who saw him."
Lady Waldron spoke slowly, in a strange dull tone, while her lipsscarcely moved, and her hands fell on her lap.
"There is no such proof. The man owns his mistake. My brother can provethat he was miles away. He was called to his father's sick bed, thatvery night. And before daylight he was far upon the road. He neverreturned till days afterwards. Then he finds this black falsehood; andyou for its author!"
"Is there any truth in this?"
Lady Waldron turned slightly towards Mr. Webber, as if she were glad toremove her eyes from her visitor's contemptuous and overpowering gaze.
"There may be some, madam. I believe it is true that the blacksmith haschanged his opinion, and that Dr. Fox was called suddenly away."
The old Solicitor was beginning to feel uneasy about his own share inthe matter. He had watched Miss Fox intently through his glasses; andlong experience in lawcourts told him, that she thoroughly believedevery word she uttered. He was glad that he had been so slow andcareful; and resolved t
o be more so, if possible, henceforth.
"And now if you are not convinced of the great wrong you have done,"said Christie coming nearer, and speaking with a soft thrill in hervoice, for tears were not far distant; "what have you to say to this? Mybrother, long before your husband's death, even before the last illness,had given his heart to your daughter Inez. Her father more thansuspected that, and was glad to think it likely. Inez also knew it well.All this also I can prove, even to your satisfaction. Is it possible,even if he were a villain, and my brother is a gentleman of as good afamily as your own, Lady Waldron--ask yourself, would he offer thisdastard outrage to the father of the girl he loved? If you can believeit, you are not a woman. And that would be better for all other women.Oh, it is too cruel, too atrocious, too inhuman! And you are the one whohas done it all. Lay this to heart--and that you may think of it, I willleave you to yourself."
Brave as she was, she could not quite accomplish this. Is it a provisionof Nature, that her highest production should be above the rules ofinferior reason? When this fair young woman ceased to speak, and havingdischarged her mission should have walked away in silence--strange tosay, she could do nothing of the kind. As if words had been her springand motive power, no sooner were they exhausted than she herself brokedown entirely. She fell away upon the rejected chair, covered her facewith both hands, reckless of new kid gloves just come from Paris, andburst into a storm of tears and sobs.
"You have done it now," cried Mr. Webber; "I thought you would; but youwouldn't be stopped." He began to rush about helplessly, not on accountof the poor girl's plight--for he had wife and daughter of his own, andknew that tears are never fatal, but often highly beneficial; "you havedone it now; I thought you would." His prophetic powers seemed toconsole him.
Christie looked up through her dabbled gloves, and saw a sight thatfrightened her. Lady Waldron had been sitting at a large oak tablecovered with books and papers,--for the room was chiefly used forbusiness, and not a lady's bower--and there she sat still; but with thischange, that she had been living, and now was dead. Dead to allperception of the life and stir around her, dead to all sense of rightor wrong, of daylight or of darkness; but living still to the slow sadwork that goes on in the body, when the mind is gone. Her head lay backon the stout oak rail; her comely face showed no more life than granitehas, or marble; and her widow's hood dropped off, and shed the coils ofher long black hair around.
"I can't make it out;" cried Mr. Webber, hurrying to the bell-rope,which he pulled to such purpose that the staple of the crank fell fromthe ceiling, and knocked him on the head. But Christie, recovering at aglance, ran round the end of the table, and with all her strengthsupported the tottering figure.
What she did afterwards, she never knew, except from the accounts ofothers; for she was too young to have presence of mind, when every oneelse was distracted. But from all that they said--and they were allagainst her--she must have shown readiness, and strength, and judgment,and taken Mr. Webber under her command.
One thing she remembered, because it was so bitter, and so frightfullyunjust; and if there was anything she valued--next to love and truth andhonour, most of which are parts of it--Christie valued simple justice,and impartiality. To wit--as Mr. Webber might have put it--when she ranout to find Mr. Gilham, who had been left there, only because he did notchoose to go away, and she only went to find him that he might run forDr. Gronow--there was her brother standing with him, and words lessfriendly than usual were, as it seemed to her, passing between them.
"No time for this sort of thing now," she said, as well as her flurriedcondition would permit; and then she pulled her brother in, and sentFrank, who was wonderfully calm and reasonable, to fetch that otherdoctor too. Her brother was not in a nice frame of mind, according toher recollection; and there was no time to reason with him, if he choseto be so stupid. Therefore she sent him where he was wanted; and ofcourse no doctor could refuse to go, under such frightful circumstances.But as for herself, she felt as if it mattered very little what she did;and so she went and sat somewhere in the dark, without even a dog forcompany, and finished with many pathetic addenda the good cry that hadbeen broken off.