"Then don't tell it. What's the use of making heart aches?"
"I can't bear the weight of it any longer. I must tell. Ever since I saw that child I've been striving against it; but it's no good—no good. I can't keep the secret any longer, Anne. I dare not. If I do it'll drive me clean out of my mind."
"Just you answer me one question, Jane. Is it right to tell it? Can any good come of it?"
"Yes, so help me God. It can! It will!"
"Then," replied Mrs. Marks, "I'll send Matthew at once; mother and I always thought there was something had driven you to be so strange when you left your place up at the Park fifteen years ago."
Jane laid herself down and covered up her face, while with a troubled sigh Mrs. Marks went below to seek her husband.
Matthew was surprised and confounded when bidden go up to the Hall and fetch the Squire.
"What!" he said, "are yer gone clean crazy as well as Jane! It's likely I'll go and fetch the Squire at the bidding of a 'dafty.' How do I know, but what it's a fool's errand he'll come on?"
But reason as he would, his words had no weight with Mrs. Marks, and Matthew had to go in the end, though with a more misgiving heart and rueful countenance than when he had gone to the young doctor's.
There was little occasion for misgivings on Matthew's part, Mr. Linchmore received him kindly, and promised to call at the turnpike during the day.