“Archibald, it seems to me that Providence must be directing him hither at this moment. Our suspicions with regard to Thorn can now be set at rest. You must contrive that Richard shall see him. What can he be coming again for?”
“More money,” was the supposition of Mr. Carlyle. “Does Mrs. Hare know of this?”
“She does, unfortunately. I opened the paper before her, never dreaming it was connected with Richard—poor, unhappy Richard!—and not to be guilty.”
“He acted as though he were guilty, Barbara; and that line of conduct often entails as much trouble as real guilt.”
“You do not believe him guilty?” she most passionately uttered.
“I do not. I have little doubt of the guilt of Thorn.”
“Oh, if it could but be brought home to him!” returned Barbara, “so that Richard might be cleared in the sight of day. How can you contrive that he shall see Thorn?”
“I cannot tell; I must think it over. Let me know the instant he arrives, Barbara.”
“Of course I shall. It may be that he does not want money; that his errand is only to see mamma. He was always so fond of her.”
“I must leave you,” said Mr. Carlyle, taking her hand in token of farewell. Then, as a thought occurred to him, he turned and walked a few steps with her without releasing it. He was probably unconscious that he retained it; she was not.