“Richard!”
“He is the clearest of us all in practical matters,” said Ethel, preventing what she feared would be disparaging. “I don’t mean only that you should ask him about this Parliament matter alone; but I am sure you would be happier and more settled if you talked things over with him before—before you go to church.”
“You don’t know what you propose.”
“I do,” said Ethel, growing bolder. “You have been going all this time by feeling. You have never cleared up, and got to the bottom of, your troubles.”
“I could not talk to any one.”
“Not to any one but a clergyman. Now, to enter on such a thing is most averse to your nature; and I do believe that, for that very reason, it would be what would do you most good. You say you have recovered sense of—Oh, Flora! I can’t talk of what you have gone through; but if you have only a vague feeling that seems as if lying still would be the only way to keep it, I don’t think it can be altogether sound, or the ‘quiet conscience’ that is meant.”
“Oh, Ethel! Ethel! I have never told you what I have undergone, since I knew my former quietness of conscience was but sleep! I have gone on in agony, with the sense of hypocrisy and despair, because I was afraid, for George’s sake, to do otherwise.”
Ethel felt herself utterly powerless to advise; and, after a kind sound of sympathy, sat shocked, pondering on what none could answer; whether this were, indeed, what poor Flora imagined, or whether it had been a holding-fast to the thread through the darkness. The proud reserve was the true evil, and Ethel prayed and trusted it might give way.
She went very amiably to Whitford with George, and gained great credit with him, for admiring the prettiest speckled Hamburgh present; indeed, George was becoming very fond of “poor Ethel,” as he still called her, and sometimes predicted that she would turn out a fine figure of a woman after all.
Ethel heard, on her return, that Richard had been there; and three days after, when Flora was making arrangements for going to church, a moment of confidence came over her, and she said, “I did it, Ethel! I have spoken to Richard.”