"Do you and your husband's father agree?"
"I at least try to please him. You would not call him a pleasant old man: and of course he charges this new adventure down to my influence, whereas it is entirely William's notion. I have had nothing to do with it beyond enlisting Uncle Matthew's help."
John glanced at her as though to read her face in the darkness.
"Was that also William's notion?" he asked.
But here again he betrayed his ignorance. True woman, though she may have ceased to love her husband, or may never have loved him, will cover his weakness. "We have our ambitions, Jack, although to you they seem petty enough. You must make William's acquaintance. He has a great opinion of you. I believe, indeed, he thinks more of you than of me. And if he wishes to leave Lincoln for London, it is partly for my sake, that I may be happier in a great city where my fault is not known."
"If, as it seems, he thinks of your earthly comfort but neglects your soul's health, I shall not easily be friends with him."
By this time they were close to the garden gate.
"Is that you, Jack?" Charles's voice hailed over the dark hedge of privet.
The pair came to a halt. Hetty's eyes were fastened imploringly on her brother. He did not see them. If he had, it would have made no difference. He pitied her, but in his belief her repentance was not thorough: he had no right to invite her past the gate.
"Good-bye," he whispered.
She understood. With a sob she bent her face and kissed him and was gone like a ghost back into the darkness.