ned just then by an
accusing conscience, did not enable him to resist. He strove to evade
the question, however.

"It was an unlucky day that ever she went to the well!"

"Tell me what the doctor said of my child," repeated Mrs. Gwynn. "Will
she live, or will she die?" He did not dare to disobey the imperious
tone in which this question was put.

"Oh, she will live, don't be afraid. The doctor said she would live." He
did not mean to lay any particular emphasis on the word "live," but
somehow he did, and she, whose every nerve vibrated with anxiety, caught
the word.

"She will live!" repeated she. "But there is something behind. Tell me,
for I will know. If you won't say, I'll go to Rowland Jones to-night and
make him tell me what he has said to you."

There had passed something in this conversation between himself and the
doctor, which Edward did not wish to have known; and Mrs. Gwynn's threat
had the desired effect. But he looked vexed and irritated.

"You have such impatient ways with you, Mrs. Gwynn," he remonstrated.

"I am a mother asking news of my sick child," said she. "Go on. What did
he say? She'll live--" as if giving the clew.

"She'll live, he has no doubt of that. But he thinks--now don't clench
your hands so--I can't tell you if you look in that way; you are enough
to frighten a man."

"I'm not speaking," said she in a low husky tone. "Never mind my looks:
she'll live--"

"But she'll be a cripple for life. There! you would have it out," said
he, sulkily.

"A cripple for life," repeated she, slowly. "And I'm one-and-twenty
years older than she is!" She sighed heavily.

"And, as we're about it, I'll just tell you what is in my mind," said
he, hurried and confused. "I've a deal of cattle; and the farm makes
heavy work, as much as an able, healthy woman can do. So you see--" He
stopped, wishing her to understand his meaning without words. But she
would not. She fixed her dark eyes on him, as if reading his soul, till
he flinched under her gaze.

"Well," said she, at length, "say on. Remember I've a deal of work in me
yet, and what strength is mine is my daughter's."

"You're very good. But, altogether, you must be aware, Nest will never
be the same as she was."

"And you've not yet sworn in the face of God to take her for better, for
worse; and, as she is worse"--she looked in his face, caught her breath,
and went on--"as she is worse, why, you cast her off, not being
church-tied to her.