expected, from their walk, they
had bad news for her, which they had agreed it was most merciful not to
delay. They had seen Enderby in Mr Rowland's gig on the Blickley road.
He had his carpet-bag with him; and Mr Rowland's man was undoubtedly
driving him to Blickley, to meet the night coach for London.

"It is better to save you all further useless expectation," observed
Edward. "We keep nothing from you."

"You keep nothing from me!" said Margaret, now fixing her eyes upon him.
"Then what is your reason for not having brought us together, if indeed
you have not kept us apart? Do you suppose I did not hear you send him
from me yesterday? And how do I know that you have not kept him away
to-day?"

"My dear Margaret!" exclaimed Hester: but a look from her husband, and
the recollection of Margaret's misery, silenced her. For the first time
Hester forgave on the instant the act of blaming her husband.

"Whatever I have done, whether it appears clear to you or not," replied
Hope, "it is from the most tender respect for your feelings. I shall
always respect them most tenderly; and not the less for their being hurt
with me."

"I have no doubt of your meaning all that is kind, Edward: but surely
when two people misunderstand each other, it is best that they should
meet. If you have acted from a regard to what you consider my dignity,
I could wish that you had left the charge of it to myself."

"You are right: quite right."

"Then why--. Oh! Edward, if you repent what you have done, it may not
yet be too late!"

"I do not repent. I have done you no wrong to-day, Margaret. I grieve
for you, but I could not have helped you."

"Let us never speak on this subject again," said Margaret, stung by the
consciousness of having so soon broken the resolution of the morning,
that her suffering heart should be as silent as the grave. "It is not
from pride, Hester, that I say so; but let us never again speak of all
this."

"Let us know but one thing, Margaret," said Edward;--"that yours is the
generous silence of forgiveness. I do not mean with regard to him--for
I fear you will forgive him sooner than we can do. I do not mean him
particularly, nor those who have poisoned his ear; but all. Only tell
us that your silence is the oblivion of mercy, so mourning for the
erring that, for its own sake, it remembers their transgressions no
more."

Margaret looked up at them both. Though her eyes swam in tears, there
wa