nd had spoken as soon as he
had been assured of his own mind. Mr Whittlestaff should at any rate
have his reward.

CHAPTER IX.

THE REV MONTAGU BLAKE.

John Gordon, when he left the room, went out to look for Mr
Whittlestaff, but was told that he had gone into the town. Mr
Whittlestaff had had his own troubles in thinking of the unlucky
coincidence of John Gordon's return, and had wandered forth,
determined to leave those two together, so that they might speak to
each other as they pleased. And during his walk he did come to a
certain resolution. Should a request of any kind be made to him by
John Gordon, it should receive not the slightest attention. He was a
man to whom he owed nothing, and for whose welfare he was not in the
least solicitous. "Why should I be punished and he be made happy?" It
was thus he spoke to himself. Should he encounter the degradation of
disappointment, in order that John Gordon should win the object on
which he had set his heart? Certainly not. His own heart was much
dearer to him than that of John Gordon.

But if a request should be made to him by Mary Lawrie? Alas! if it
were so, then there must be sharp misery in store for him. In the
first place, were she to make the request, were she to tell him to
his face, she who had promised to be his wife, that this man was dear
to her, how was it possible that he should go to the altar with the
girl, and there accept from her her troth? She had spoken already
of a fancy which had crossed her mind respecting a man who could
have been no more than a dream to her, of whose whereabouts and
condition--nay, of his very existence--she was unaware. And she had
told him that no promise, no word of love, had passed between them.
"Yes, you may think of him," he had said, meaning not to debar her
from the use of thought, which should be open to all the world,
"but let him not be spoken of." Then she had promised; and when she
had come again to withdraw her promise, she had done so with some
cock-and-bull story about the old woman, which had had no weight with
him. Then he had her presence during the interview between the three
on which to form his judgment. As far as he could remember, as he
wandered through the fields thinking of it, she had not spoken hardly
above a word during that interview. She had sat silent, apparently
unhappy, but not explaining the cause of her unhappiness. It might
well be that she should be unhappy in the presence of h