. "A
woman? Little Nollie! Bob, I've made a terrible mess of it with my
girls." He hid his lips with his hand, and turned again to the flames.
Robert felt a lump in his throat. "Oh! Hang it, old boy, I don't think
that. What else could you have done? You take too much on yourself.
After all, they're fine girls. I'm sure Nollie's a darling. It's these
modern notions, and this war. Cheer up! It'll all dry straight." He
went up to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder. Edward seemed to
stiffen under that touch.

"Nothing comes straight," he said, "unless it's faced; you know that,
Bob."

Robert's face was a study at that moment. His cheeks filled and
collapsed again like a dog's when it has been rebuked. His colour
deepened, and he rattled some money in a trouser pocket.

"Something in that, of course," he said gruffly. "All the same, the
decision's with Nollie. We'll see what Thirza says. Anyway, there's
no hurry. It's a thousand pities you're a parson; the trouble's enough
without that:"

Edward shook his head. "My position is nothing; it's the thought of my
child, my wife's child. It's sheer pride; and I can't subdue it. I can't
fight it down. God forgive me, I rebel."

And Robert thought: 'By George, he does take it to heart! Well, so
should I! I do, as it is!' He took out his pipe, and filled it, pushing
the tobacco down and down.

"I'm not a man of the world," he heard his brother say; "I'm out of
touch with many things. It's almost unbearable to me to feel that
I'm joining with the world to condemn my own daughter; not for their
reasons, perhaps--I don't know; I hope not, but still, I'm against her."

Robert lit his pipe.

"Steady, old man!" he said. "It's a misfortune. But if I were you I
should feel: 'She's done a wild, silly thing, but, hang it, if anybody
says a word against her, I'll wring his neck.' And what's more, you'll
feel much the same, when it comes to the point." He emitted a huge puff
of smoke, which obscured his brother's face, and the blood, buzzing in
his temples, seemed to thicken the sound of Edward's voice.

"I don't know; I've tried to see clearly. I have prayed to be shown
what her duty is, and mine. It seems to me there can be no peace for her
until she has atoned, by open suffering; that the world's judgment is
her cross, and she must bear it; especially in these days, when all the
world is facing suffering so nobly. And then it seems so hard-so bitter;
my poor little Nollie