"They didn't deny it," answered Miss Winter. "Like the truthful creatures that they are, they admitted every syllable—and why not? For how were them words said do you suppose? The truth was this. Poor Samuel had been struck down by the illness just after Adam recovered. Margery had brought some nice food for me, and Adam had axed her to come upstairs and coax Samuel to take his medicine, which he refused to do. It was in Samuel's room and to Sammy himself, while she offered him his physic in a wine-glass, that Margery said, 'Quick, quick—there's a dear'; and it was to Samuel that Adam said, 'Come, then—come.' And then Samuel had bolted his physic and Margery had laughed at the face he pulled. And when they heard that explanation, the jurymen believed it. They had long got restive and weary of the whole piece of nonsense, and now they said they were satisfied, and Adam says that anybody could have seen, even before the jury spoke, that the judge was also terrible tired of it. The great judge summed up on the evidence that Bullstone brought forward, and that his wife and Adam explained, and he talked mighty straight to the petitioner—that's Jacob Bullstone—and told him that he'd let vain imaginings get hold on his mind and allowed his jealousy to poison his vision and his sense of justice and honour to his wife and to the co-respondent—that's my nephew. He said that in his opinion it was a dreadful thing that good money and good time should have been wasted over an obstinate and mistaken man's error. Then he talked to the jury, and presently the jury went out. But in three minutes by the clock they was back in court and dismissed the petition with costs, and all his fabric of lies and flimsy fancies was down in the dust. And that means Bullstone can't get no divorce, and Margery and Adam come out of it without a shadow upon 'em, and her hateful husband have got to pay the lawyers every penny and all the expenses. Because the judge agreed with the verdict, and went so far as to say that there were no grounds whatever for the suit, and that it should never have been brought. In a word right has triumphed, and I shall always think a lot more respectful of the Law than I have in the past."
"Costs follow the verdict, of course," answered Billy, after considering this matter in silence. "And what else follows it? We shall see as to that. Time must pass. A good flight of time be the only thing for all parties, Amelia."
"Time can do a lot," she said, "but it can't undo what's done; and if you think——"
"Let time pass," he repeated. "Only time will heal the sores."
"You needn't talk like that," said the old woman. "Adam haven't got no sores, except natural sorrow for an ill-used woman. For himself, nought can gall one like him. He's above the people's blame or praise, for when a man goes into a law court, and gets mauled by a paid lawyer, whose business be to show him in the wrong; and when he comes out of it with only the respect of his fellow-creatures, and never a stain on his life and history—then you may reckon he's a bit out of the common. And she was white as death in court and fainted once. And my nephew's terrible sorry for the woman, and sorry for himself, too, because he says he can never have any more to do with her. It's a natural instinct in him that they must be nought to each other after this; and I doubt not Margery will feel the same. Their lives can never touch in friendship no more, William."
"Very like they would both feel so," admitted Billy. "And what does Adam say about Jacob Bullstone?"
"He won't name him, and when Samuel cursed him and threatened great blows against him, Adam bade his brother be careful to do no evil. All he said was that Bullstone would suffer last and suffer longest."
"A very true saying, and your nephew be the wisest of all concerned," declared the old man. "For Adam this came as the greatest shock, because it burst upon him more unexpected and terrible than on the woman even. She knew her husband's weakness and, for brave pride, hid it from all eyes, including Adam's. And he will agree with me that 'time' is the only word."
"In your opinion it may be," answered Amelia; "but in the opinion of the Chosen Few, I reckon 'eternity' will be the only word. And don't you think, or dream, or tell Adam, or this fool, Bullstone, or anybody else, that time be going to soften it, because there's plenty of righteous people about as will take very good care that time does no such thing."
"That's what I'm afraid of," admitted Billy; "but don't you be one of them, my dear. If us would only let time, like patience, do her perfect work, wounds might often heal that never do; but no doubt a lot of godly folk won't be content to stand by and leave this pair in the hands of God."