"I will not let it shake my faith in Walter, for the tenth part of a moment, if that is what you mean!" said Amabel, raising her proud head as in defiance. "And then that Mr. Trimble, the new chaplain, must needs say, that every one knew how Cheriton was using his power over the poor people, and that old Wesley was just the same. And I had to sit by, and hear it all."
"Poor child!" said I devoutly, hoping this might be the worst that Amabel would have to bear. "But now listen to me, darling, I have something to tell you;" and I imparted to her Mrs. Wilson's news about Lord Bulmer.
"I have feared as much from some hints that my lady has let fall!" said Amabel. "But I will never consent. I have told my father that I will not marry Walter against his will, at least till I am of age; but I will never wed any one else—no, not if they drag me before the priest. I have made up my mind to that. I will flee to my aunt in Scotland, or perish on the hills before I will marry any one but Walter Cheriton."
"It may not be so easy to flee!" I suggested.
Amabel smiled.
"I know this old house, better than my lady does!" said she. "I have explored it too well, not to know that there is hardly a room which has not more entrances than one. Have you forgotten the ghost's room, and the secret stair, Lucy?"
"But suppose my lady changes the rooms?"
"I believe there is no danger of that at present. But Lucy, let us not borrow trouble, we know who has promised to care for us, and He will surely perform His word, though not perhaps in our way. Let us go to our reading and settle our minds in that way. There is no other."
The next day was Sunday, and in the evening occurred the first distinct collision between my lady and Amabel. We had all gone to church in the morning, filling the great family pew where Amabel and I had been used to sit with Mrs. Deborah. I was about to enter it as usual, when my lady in a voice which could be heard all over the church, haughtily ordered me to take my place with the servants where I belonged.
I knew that the little gallery was already crowded rather more than was safe, and was about to sit down on one of the free seats, when Mrs. Deborah opened the door of the rectory pew where she was sitting, for me. Whether my lady saw it or not, I do not know, at any rate she thought it best to make no disturbance. I saw a good many flashing eyes among the poorer folk, for Northumbrians are very independent in their feelings, and by no means endued with that slavish reverence for "the quality," which is found in the East and South; and I was decidedly a favorite among the villagers.