The good old man slowly shook his head.
“None whatever, madam.”
“She still refuses to explain?”
“Ah, yes, madam!”
“In fact, it is just what I expected. I am not surprised. There never was such contumacious obstinacy. Dear me, what shall I do? What would you advise me to do?”
“Be patient, Mrs. Houston; and, above all things, avoid betraying to any others out of your own immediate family the anxiety that you reveal to me. ‘It is written that a man’s foes shall be those of his own household.’ Unnatural and horrible as it sounds, every one who has lived, observed and reflected to any purpose, must have discovered that still more frequently a woman’s foes are of such.”
“Really and truly, Mr. Wellworth, that is a very strange speech of yours. I hope you do not suppose that any one in this house is the enemy of Margaret Helmstedt?”
“Assuredly not. I merely wished to entreat that you will not again speak of this correspondence in the village post office.”
“But dear me, what then am I to do?”
“Leave matters just where they are for the present. There is nothing wrong in this, farther than that it has unfortunately been made the occasion of gossip; therefore, of course it must be perfectly cleared up for Margaret’s own sake. But our interference at present evidently will not tend to precipitate a satisfactory denouement.”