This day of violent emotions was followed by a sullen and sorrowful gloom.
Mrs. Gaunt kept her bedroom, and admitted nobody; till, at last, the servants consulted together, and sent little Rose to knock at her door, with a basin of chocolate, while they watched on the stairs.
"It's only me, mamma," said Rose.
"Come in, my precious," said a trembling voice, and so Rose got in with her chocolate.
The next day she was sent for early: and at noon, Mrs. Gaunt and Rose came downstairs; but their appearance startled the whole household.
The mother was dressed all in black, and so was her daughter, whom she led by the hand. Mrs. Gaunt's face was pale, and sad, and stem; a monument of deep suffering, and high-strung resolution.
It soon transpired that Griffith had left his home for good: and friends called on Mrs. Gaunt to slake their curiosity under the mask of sympathy.
Not one of them was admitted. No false excuses were made. "My mistress sees no one for the present," was the reply.
Curiosity, thus baffled, took up the pen; but was met with a short unvarying formula: "There is an unhappy misunderstanding between my husband and me. But I shall neither accuse him behind his back, nor justify myself."
Thus the proud lady carried herself before the world; but secretly she writhed. A wife abandoned is a woman insulted, and makes the wives, that are not abandoned—cluck.