“Perhaps he will, if you will be patient,” said Stephen.
But Virginia had nothing to say to this.
“I can only see that the thing will have to go on,” he said, but perhaps he spoke half-heartedly; for after all if she dropped the matter, it offered him an easy escape from his difficulties; and he had even thought of asking her to do this very thing, though now that she suggested it of her own free will he was rather appalled by the proposal, since the burden of it would rest on him. He pictured Wade's rage and chagrin; and how would Elinor and the Nortons feel about it! The difficulties of his position became more and more apparent. No, the thing must go on, no sacrifice of his aunt's interests would right matters; only the law offered a solution of the problem, and even the solution might be an imperfect one, for who could foresee the end!
“The thing's started, and it will have to go on,” he said with dogged insistence.
“But do you need to be involved?” she questioned.
“I don't know. Just at present I seem to be a friend with all factions, but how long this can continue is more than I can say. No, I am not fit to advise you; it will have to be Wade or Mr. Norton, and they have already declared themselves.”
But afterward he was moody and preoccupied; and when he walked home with Elinor that night, he left her at the door and would not go in.
He reached home, and let himself in with his night-key. Benson called to him from the library, and Stephen turned with a sinking heart. Benson's habits were regular and old-fashioned; he retired early, and rose early; what was he doing up at that hour?
“Come in here, Stephen,” called the lawyer.
Stephen entered the room.