"It is none of Walter's business. He is perfectly incapable of managing this affair. His instincts are those of the counting-house. He is to know nothing about it. If you speak of it to any one, I shall give the whole thing up, both the work and the money—if there is any money involved. My sense of honor will not allow me to proceed with it for a day."
Brush in hand, Mrs. Scott looked at him with amazement. Unfortunately she had never been spoken to in this fashion in all her married life.
"Do you think you've succeeded so well, Henry, that you can't take any advice?"
"I know better than you do whether I've succeeded or failed. I'm speaking of this particular instance, and what I say is this, if you breathe a word of what I have told you to Walter, or to any one, I give the whole thing up! Work like this is generally paid for, but I do not care whether it is paid or not. I should be glad to do it for nothing. Since you do care for money, you had better see that you don't lose whatever there is in it by talking about it."
He went downstairs, his knees shaking under him, but a heavenly sense of freedom in his heart. In the dining-room he found Cora standing by the window waiting for the advent of her elders. He had meant to talk to her, but this was not the time. He felt a sudden, keen pity for her white face and her drooping shoulders. She was so steady, so occupied with her own small concerns, so—if the truth must be told—dull; he did not think her capable of any grand passion or deep sorrow. It was not easy, he was certain, for her to bear her trouble under her mother's eye. But she would get over it, she was young. It might make it harder for her if he talked to her about it.
All day he hung about the house. Mrs. Scott was packing her trunks, but he was afraid that some one might come in. He was not yet quite as free as he thought. To-morrow she would be gone and he could breathe for a little while in peace. Then his sensitive soul reproached him. When at dark, Dr. Lister came to tell him that Mrs. Lister had consented to the publication of Basil's work, and he went to tell Mrs. Scott, she smiled from one corner of her mouth.
"Did you suppose she wouldn't consent?" said she.