at boy! Yes, it is right it should be taken out of my hands--my
blindness has done harm enough already; but if I had not bound myself to
forbear, I could not help it, when I see the Savilles so much set against
him. I do not know that they are more severe in action than--than
perhaps they ought to be, but they will not let me pity him.'

'They ought not to dictate to you,' said Phoebe, indignantly.

'Dictate! Oh, no, my dear. If you could only hear his compliments to my
discretion, you would know he was thinking all the time there is no fool
like an old fool. No, I don't complain. I have been wilful, and weak,
and blind, and these are the fruits! It is right that others should
judge for him, and I deserve that they should come and guard me; though,
when I think of such untruth throughout, I don't feel as if there were
danger of my ever being more than sorry for him.'

'It is worse than the marriage,' said Phoebe, thoughtfully.

'There might have been generous risk in that. This was--oh, very nearly
treachery! No wonder Lucy tries to hide it! I hope never to say a word
to her to show that I am aware of it.'

'She is coming home, then?'

'She must, since she has broken with the Charterises; but she has never
written. Has Robert mentioned her?'

'Never; he writes very little.'

'I long to know how it is with him. Now that he has signed his contract,
and made all his arrangements, he cannot retract; but--but we shall see,'
said Honor, with one gleam of playful hope. 'If she should come home to
me ready to submit and be gentle, there might be a chance yet. I am sure
he is poor Owen's only real friend. If I could only tell you half my
gratitude to him for it! And I will tell you what Mr. Saville has
actually consented to my doing--I may give Owen enough to cover his
premium and outfit; and I hope that may set him at ease in providing for
his child for the present from his own means, as he ought to do.'

'Poor little thing! what will become of it?'

'He and his sister must arrange,' said Honor, hastily, as if silencing a
yearning of her own. 'I do not need the Savilles to tell me I must not
take it off their hands. The responsibility may be a blessing to him,
and it would be wrong to relieve him of a penalty in the natural course
of Providence.'

'There, now you have put it into my head to think what a pleasure it
would be to you--'

'I have done enough for my own pleasure, Phoebe. Had you only