ntercourse with the sisters and, as far as he knew, no one
else, unless it were Frank (by this time in possession of the facts),
had ever conceived of the true state of the case. He must decline all
question about his domestic relations, except as far as Margaret was
concerned. Beyond this, he would allow of no inquisition, and would
forbid all speculation. For Margaret's sake, no less than Hester's,
this was necessary. If she should ever be Enderby's wife, it was of the
utmost importance that Enderby should not, in his most secret soul, hold
this information, however strongly he might be convinced that Margaret
was in ignorance of it, and had never loved any but himself. There must
be no admission to Enderby of that which had been truth, but which would
become untruth by being first admitted now. There must be entire
silence upon the whole subject of himself.--As to Margaret, he did not
see what could be done, but to declare his true and perfect belief that
she had never loved any but Enderby. But alas! what chance was there of
this testimony being received; the very point of Enderby's accusation
being, that they both looked, perhaps in self-delusion, at the
connection with him as their security from the consequences of Hope's
weakness in marrying Hester? It was all confused--all wretched--all
nearly hopeless. Margaret would be sacrificed without knowing why--
would have her heart wrung with the sense of injury in addition to her
woe.

From reflections and anticipations, Hope rose early to the great duty of
the day. He told Hester that he was going to meet Enderby in the
meadows, to receive a full explanation of his conduct of the preceding
day; and that it was probable that he should bring home whatever tidings
it might be Margaret's lot to hear.

He found, during the long and anxious conversation in the meadow, that
he had need of all the courage, calmness, and discretion he could
command. It was a cruel trial to one whose wont it had been from his
childhood to converse in "simplicity and godly sincerity,"--it was a
cruel trial to hear evidence, upon evidence brought of what he knew to
have been fact, and to find connected with this, revolting falsehoods,
against which he could only utter the indignation of his soul. When he
afterwards reflected how artfully the facts and falsehoods were
connected, he could no longer wonder at Enderby's convictions, nor at
the conduct which proceeded from them. There wa