‘No, John, no!’ I cried. ‘When will you send the children to me?’
‘Are you so resolved?’ he said in a low voice.
‘I have sworn by my God,’ I cried, ‘that Mary shall not be dishonoured through me. She is your wife. It is your duty to seek her, to follow her, to find her. She is to be traced to Leicester, at all events.’
He took up his hat that lay upon a chair, moving as though in a dream.
‘God forgive you, Agnes,’ said he; ‘you are wronging and paining one who loves you.’
He went to the door, and held it a moment with his eyes fixed upon me. I directed my gaze downwards; for not long could I have withheld that appealing look.
‘God forgive you!’ said he again, and passed out, followed by Mrs. Lee, who closed the door behind her. She took him into the drawing-room, and a long half-hour passed. The hall-door was then opened and shut, footsteps sounded on the gravel-path, and Mrs. Lee came into the dining-room. She sank into a chair, and exclaimed, ‘Agnes, he is a good man, and he loves you. I have sent him away with a light heart. All will yet be well. We shall recover your sister, and she will live with me, and you will be a happy wife once more in your own home, with your husband and your children by your side.’
‘Will he send the children to me?’ I said.
‘Yes.’
‘When?’