Mrs. Gaunt drew herself up with fiery and bitter disdain.
"Are they so?" said she, grimly. "Then I'll balk them. I'll steal away in the dead of night. No, miserable populace, that howls and hisses with the strong against the weak, you shall have no part in my triumph; 't is sacred to my friends. You honored me with your hootings, you shall not disgrace me with your acclamations. Here I stay till Mercy Vint, my guardian angel, leaves me forever."
She then requested Sir George to order his horses back to the inn, and the coachman was to hold himself in readiness to start when the whole town should be asleep.
Meantime, a courier was despatched to Hernshaw Castle, to prepare for Mrs. Gaunt's reception.
Mrs. Menteith made a bed up for Mercy Vint, and at midnight, when the coast was clear, came the parting.
It was a sad one.
Even Mercy, who had great self-command, could not then restrain her tears.
To apply the sweet and touching words of Scripture, "They sorrowed most of all for this, that they should see each other's face no more."
Sir George accompanied Mrs. Gaunt to Hernshaw.
She drew back into her corner of the carriage, and was very silent and distraite.