o his own
son.

MRS. DUDGEON. He had nothing of his own. His money was the money I
brought him as my marriage portion. It was for me to deal with my own
money and my own son. He dare not have done it if I had been with him;
and well he knew it. That was why he stole away like a thief to take
advantage of the law to rob me by making a new will behind my back. The
more shame on you, Mr. Anderson,--you, a minister of the gospel--to act
as his accomplice in such a crime.

ANDERSON (rising). I will take no offence at what you say in the first
bitterness of your grief.

MRS. DUDGEON (contemptuously). Grief!

ANDERSON. Well, of your disappointment, if you can find it in your
heart to think that the better word.

MRS. DUDGEON. My heart! My heart! And since when, pray, have you begun
to hold up our hearts as trustworthy guides for us?

ANDERSON (rather guiltily). I--er--

MRS. DUDGEON (vehemently). Don't lie, Mr. Anderson. We are told that
the heart of man is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.
My heart belonged, not to Timothy, but to that poor wretched brother of
his that has just ended his days with a rope round his neck--aye, to
Peter Dudgeon. You know it: old Eli Hawkins, the man to whose pulpit
you succeeded, though you are not worthy to loose his shoe latchet,
told it you when he gave over our souls into your charge. He warned me
and strengthened me against my heart, and made me marry a Godfearing
man--as he thought. What else but that discipline has made me the woman
I am? And you, you who followed your heart in your marriage, you talk
to me of what I find in my heart. Go home to your pretty wife, man; and
leave me to my prayers. (She turns from him and leans with her elbows
on the table, brooding over her wrongs and taking no further notice of
him.)

ANDERSON (willing enough to escape). The Lord forbid that I should come
between you and the source of all comfort! (He goes to the rack for his
coat and hat.)

MRS. DUDGEON (without looking at him). The Lord will know what to
forbid and what to allow without your help.

ANDERSON. And whom to forgive, I hope--Eli Hawkins and myself, if we
have ever set up our preaching against His law. (He fastens his cloak,
and is now ready to go.) Just one word--on necessary business, Mrs.
Dudgeon. There is the reading of the will to be gone through; and
Richard has a right to be present. He is in the town; but he has the
grace to say that he does not want to