He spoke very gently, very humbly, because of his great compassion; and truly, Christian dead, it were not so hard to forgo rancour. But Rhoda went on.
'You must hear what I come to tell you before you reach home. Do you think I have been watching and praying for your return these hours, only to gird at Christian? For his mother's sake I came, and to warn you——'
She stopped. 'What is it? What is it? Say quick.'
'Nothing that you fear—nothing I can name. Hear me out!
'Last night I came back, and told, in part, what had befallen me; and heard, in part, what had befallen Christian. To-day, one thrust in upon his mother, open-mouthed, with ugly hints. She came to me straight and asked for the whole truth. Rhoda, I swear I said nothing but bare truth, mere plain, unvarnished fact, without one extravagant word; but her face went grey and stony as she heard—oh! grey and stony it went; and when I asked her to forgive me—I did, Rhoda, though what wrong had I done?—she answered with her speech gone suddenly imperfect.'
Rhoda pressed forward, then stopped again—
'What did you tell her? I must know that.'
Philip hesitated: 'Then against Christian I must speak in substance, however I choose my words.'
'Go on—go on!'
So Philip told, as justly and truly as he could, all he might.