n his reason, once so
fine and clear, could not act, could not be trusted to guide him
right, she had gradually come to know with fear and trembling. But
he himself had never before hinted his own consciousness of this
calamity. Indeed he had been so unwilling to speak of himself and of
his own state, that she had been unable even to ask him a question
about the money, lest he should suspect that she suspected him. Now
he was speaking,--but speaking with such heart-rending sadness that
she could hardly urge him to go on.

"You have sometimes been ill, Josiah, as any of us may be," she said,
"and that has been the cause."

"There are different kinds of sickness. There is sickness of the
body, and sickness of the heart, and sickness of the spirit;--and
then there is sickness of the mind, the worst of all."

"With you, Josiah, it has chiefly been the first."

"With me, Mary, it has been all of them,--every one! My spirit is
broken, and my mind has not been able to keep its even tenour amidst
the ruins. But I will strive. I will strive. I will strive still. And
if God helps me, I will prevail." Then he took up his hat and cloak,
and went forth among the lanes; and on this occasion his wife was
glad that he should go alone.

This occurred a day or two before Christmas, and Mrs. Crawley during
those days said nothing more to her husband on the subject which he
had so unexpectedly discussed. She asked him no questions about the
money, or as to the possibility of his exercising his memory, nor did
she counsel him to plead that the false excuses given by him for his
possession of the cheque had been occasioned by the sad slip to which
sorrow had in those days subjected his memory and his intellect. But
the matter had always been on her mind. Might it not be her paramount
duty to do something of this at the present moment? Might it not be
that his acquittal or conviction would depend on what she might now
learn from him? It was clear to her that he was brighter in spirit
since his encounter with the Proudies than he had ever been since the
accusation had been first made against him. And she knew well that
his present mood would not be of long continuance. He would fall
again into his moody silent ways, and then the chance of learning
aught from him would be past, and perhaps, for ever.

He performed the Christmas services with nothing of special
despondency in his tone or manner, and his wife thought that she
had never he