unsaid. What is it? Is it unfaithfulness to my husband? I
scorn it and defy anybody to prove it--I defy you, I say. My honour is
as untouched as that of the bitterest enemy who ever maligned me. Is
it of being poor, forsaken, wretched, that you accuse me? Yes, I am
guilty of those faults, and punished for them every day. Let me go,
Emmy. It is only to suppose that I have not met you, and I am no worse
to-day than I was yesterday. It is only to suppose that the night is
over and the poor wanderer is on her way. Don't you remember the song
we used to sing in old, dear old days? I have been wandering ever since
then--a poor castaway, scorned for being miserable, and insulted
because I am alone. Let me go: my stay here interferes with the plans
of this gentleman."

"Indeed it does, madam," said the Major. "If I have any authority in
this house--"

"Authority, none!" broke out Amelia "Rebecca, you stay with me. I
won't desert you because you have been persecuted, or insult you
because--because Major Dobbin chooses to do so. Come away, dear." And
the two women made towards the door.

William opened it. As they were going out, however, he took Amelia's
hand and said--"Will you stay a moment and speak to me?"

"He wishes to speak to you away from me," said Becky, looking like a
martyr. Amelia gripped her hand in reply.

"Upon my honour it is not about you that I am going to speak," Dobbin
said. "Come back, Amelia," and she came. Dobbin bowed to Mrs.
Crawley, as he shut the door upon her. Amelia looked at him, leaning
against the glass: her face and her lips were quite white.

"I was confused when I spoke just now," the Major said after a pause,
"and I misused the word authority."

"You did," said Amelia with her teeth chattering.

"At least I have claims to be heard," Dobbin continued.

"It is generous to remind me of our obligations to you," the woman
answered.

"The claims I mean are those left me by George's father," William said.

"Yes, and you insulted his memory. You did yesterday. You know you
did. And I will never forgive you. Never!" said Amelia. She shot out
each little sentence in a tremor of anger and emotion.

"You don't mean that, Amelia?" William said sadly. "You don't mean that
these words, uttered in a hurried moment, are to weigh against a whole
life's devotion? I think that George's memory has not been injured by
the way in which I have dealt with it, and if we are come to