The same explanation--her want of love for Manston--applied here too,
but she shunned the revelation.

'But never mind,' added the rector, 'it was all the greater credit to
your womanhood, perhaps. I say, then, get your brother to write a line
to Mr. Manston, saying you wish to be satisfied that all is legally
clear (in case you should want to marry again, for instance), and I have
no doubt that you will be. Or, if you would rather, I'll write myself?'

'O no, sir, no,' pleaded Cytherea, beginning to blanch, and breathing
quickly. 'Please don't say anything. Let me live here with Owen. I am so
afraid it will turn out that I shall have to go to Knapwater and be his
wife, and I don't want to go. Do conceal what we have told you. Let him
continue his deception--it is much the best for me.'

Mr. Raunham at length divined that her love for Manston, if it had ever
existed, had transmuted itself into a very different feeling now.

'At any rate,' he said, as he took his leave and mounted his mare, 'I
will see about it. Rest content, Miss Graye, and depend upon it that I
will not lead you into difficulty.'

'Conceal it,' she still pleaded.

'We'll see--but of course I must do my duty.'

'No--don't do your duty!' She looked up at him through the gloom,
illuminating her own face and eyes with the candle she held.

'I will consider, then,' said Mr. Raunham, sensibly moved. He turned his
horse's head, bade them a warm adieu, and left the door.

The rector of Carriford trotted homewards under the cold and clear
March sky, its countless stars fluttering like bright birds. He was
unconscious of the scene. Recovering from the effect of Cytherea's voice
and glance of entreaty, he laid the subject of the interview clearly
before himself.

The suspicions of Cytherea and Owen were honest, and had
foundation--that he must own. Was he--a clergyman, magistrate, and
conscientious man--justified in yielding to Cytherea's importunities
to keep silence, because she dreaded the possibility of a return to
Manston? Was she wise in her request? Holding her present belief, and
with no definite evidence either way, she could, for one thing, never
conscientiously marry any one else. Suppose that Cytherea were Manston's
wife--i.e., that the first wife was really burnt? The adultery of
Manston would be proved, and, Mr. Raunham thought, cruelty sufficient to
bring the case within the meaning of the statute. Suppose the new woman
was, as stated