s the only one
before whom his mother felt any kind of awe. Toward him, therefore, she
kept silence for the present. If she had spoken then, things might have
gone very differently: it might have brought Godfrey to the point of
righteous resolve or of passionate utterance. He could not well have
opposed his mother's design without going further and declaring that,
if Letty would, she should remain where she was, the mistress of the
house. If not the feeling of what was due to her, the dread of the
house without her might well have brought him to this.

Letty, for her part, believed her cousin Godfrey regarded her with
pity, and showed her kindness from a generous sense of duty; she was a
poor, dull creature for whom her cousin must do what he could: one word
of genuine love from him, one word even of such love as was in him,
would have caused her nature to shoot heavenward and spread out
earthward with a rapidity that would have astonished him; she would
thereby have come into her spiritual property at once, and heaven would
have opened to her--a little way at least--probably to close again for
a time. Now she felt crushed. The idea of undertaking that for which
she knew herself so ill fitted was not merely odious but frightful to
her. She was ready enough to work, but it must be real, not sham work.
She must see and consult Mary! This was quite another affair from Tom!
She would take the first opportunity. In the mean time there was
nothing to be done or said; and with a heavy heart she held her
peace--only longed for her own room, that she might have a cry. To her
comfort the clock struck ten, and all that now lay between her and that
refuge was the usual round of the house with Mrs. Wardour, to see all
safe for the night. That done, they parted, and Letty went slowly and
sadly up the stair. It was a dark prospect before her. At best, she had
to leave the only home she remembered, and go among strangers.

CHAPTER XV.

THE MOONLIGHT.

It was a still, frosty night, with a full moon. When she reached her
chamber, Letty walked mechanically to the window, and there stood, with
the candle in her hand, looking carelessly out, nor taking any pleasure
in the great night. The window looked on an open, grassy yard, where
were a few large ricks of wheat, shining yellow in the cold, far-off
moon. Between the moon and the earth hung a faint mist, which the thin
clouds of her breath seemed to mingle with and augment. The