"If she is worth having, Paul, she won't think so much about that! I went to the kirk last Sunday where Wilson goes, and I saw him. I tell you he is not one that a lass would take to if she knew you cared for her. But if you don't speak, well, there——"
"I hear she's coming to Brunford soon," said Paul presently.
His mother looked up eagerly. "Coming to Brunford?" she asked.
"Yes," replied Paul. "She's coming on a visit to the Wilsons'. My partner, George Preston, told me. It seems that his mother's servant is friendly with one of the maids up at Howden Clough. That's how he got to know."
The mother looked at her son for a few seconds with a strange expression in her eyes. It was easy to see how she loved him, and how her heart went out in strong desire to bring him happiness. She did not seem at all jealous that he should love anyone beside her, her one thought seemed to be how to bring him joy.
"You must meet her, Paul!" she said. "You must meet her!"
"Ay, that's very likely," he laughed bitterly. "But what's the good? She would never think of me, I am nameless!"
He was sorry the moment he had spoken, for he knew he had not only wounded his mother, he had aroused in her heart feelings which he had hoped were dying out.
"You have heard nothing more?" she said, and her voice was hard and almost hoarse.
"No, mother," he replied. "I seem to be met by a blank wall everywhere. I have made every inquiry in my power, and, as I told you, I went to Scotland in the hope that I should be able to get at the truth, but I learnt nothing—nothing! If he's alive he's somewhere in hiding; he's afraid of what will take place—because the marriage is clear enough, at least, in my mind."