Gibson
hurrying towards the cathedral, down the passage which leads from
Southernhay into the Close. "He's just come from Heavitree, I'll be
bound," said Miss Stanbury to Martha, who was behind her.

"Like enough, ma'am."

"Though they do say that the poor fool of a man has become quite sick
of his bargain already."

"He'll have to be sicker yet, ma'am," said Martha.

"They were to have been married last week, and nobody ever knew why
it was put off. It's my belief he'll never marry her. And she'll be
served right;--quite right."

"He must marry her now, ma'am. She's been buying things all over
Exeter, as though there was no end of their money."

"They haven't more than enough to keep body and soul together," said
Miss Stanbury. "I don't see why I mightn't have gone to service this
morning, Martha. It's quite warm now out in the Close."

"You'd better wait, ma'am, till the east winds is over. She was at
Puddock's only the day before yesterday, buying bed-linen,--the
finest they had, and that wasn't good enough."

"Psha!" said Miss Stanbury.

"As though Mr. Gibson hadn't things of that kind good enough for
her," said Martha.

Then there was silence in the room for awhile. Miss Stanbury was
standing at one window, and Martha at the other, watching the people
as they passed backwards and forwards, in and out of the Close.
Dorothy had now been away at Nuncombe Putney for some weeks, and her
aunt felt her loneliness with a heavy sense of weakness. Never had
she entertained a companion in the house who had suited her as well
as her niece, Dorothy. Dorothy would always listen to her, would
always talk to her, would always bear with her. Since Dorothy had
gone, various letters had been interchanged between them. Though
there had been anger about Brooke Burgess, there had been no absolute
rupture; but Miss Stanbury had felt that she could not write and beg
her niece to come back to her. She had not sent Dorothy away. Dorothy
had chosen to go, because her aunt had had an opinion of her own as
to what was fitting for her heir; and as Miss Stanbury would not give
up her opinion, she could not ask her niece to return to her. Such
had been her resolution, sternly expressed to herself a dozen times
during these solitary weeks; but time and solitude had acted upon
her, and she longed for the girl's presence in the house. "Martha,"
she said at last, "I think I shall get you to go over to Nuncombe
Putney."

"Again, ma'am?