"Thank God!" said the old doctor, blowing his nose.
CHAPTER XLIII
The Devil has no stancher ally than want of perception.—PHILIP H. WICKSTEED.
It takes two to speak truth—one to speak and another to hear.—THOREAU.
Mrs. Gresley had passed an uncomfortable day. In the afternoon all the Pratts had called, and Mr. Gresley, who departed early in the afternoon for Southminster, had left his wife no directions as to how to act in this unforseen occurrence, or how to parry the questions with which she was overwhelmed.
After long hesitation she at last owned that Hester had returned to Southminster in the Bishop's carriage not more than half an hour after it had brought her back.
"I can't explain Hester's actions," she would only repeat over and over again. "I don't pretend to understand clever people. I'm not clever myself. I can only say Hester went back to Southminster directly she arrived here."
Hardly had the Pratts taken their departure when Doll Loftus was ushered in. His wife had sent him to ask where Hester was, as Fräulein had alarmed her earlier in the day. Doll at least asked no questions. He had never asked but one in his life, and that had been of his wife, five seconds before he had become engaged to her.
He accepted with equanimity the information that Hester had returned to Southminster, and departed to impart the same to his exasperated wife.