‘I am sorry to say that I did tell them to send it,’ said Emily, ‘but I said nothing about sealing, as Jane remembers, and I forgot that Maurice’s gunpowder was in the room.’
Eleanor shook her head sorrowfully, and looked down at her knitting, and Lily knew that her mind was made up respecting little Henry’s dwelling-place.
It was some comfort to have raised no false expectations.
‘Ada must not be frightened and agitated to-night,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘but I hope you will talk to her to-morrow, Eleanor. Well, Claude, have you made Phyllis understand that she is acquitted?’
‘Scarcely,’ said Claude; ‘she is so overcome and worn out, that I thought she had better go to bed, and wake in her proper senses to-morrow.’
‘A very unconscious heroine,’ said William. ‘She is a wonder—I never thought her anything but an honest sort of romp.’
‘I have long thought her a wonderful specimen of obedience,’ said Mr. Mohun.
William and Claude now walked to the parsonage, and the council broke up; but it must not be supposed that this was the last that Emily and Maurice heard on the subject.
CHAPTER XXIII
JOYS AND SORROWS
‘Complaint was heard on every part
Of something disarranged.’