worms to be trodden under
foot, and grass of the field to be thrown into the oven, was borne in so
often on poor Mr. Bolton that he had not strength left to go to the
bank. And they were nearer akin to worms and more like grass of the
field than ever, because Hester would stay at Folking instead of
returning to her own home.

She was in this frame of mind when Robert Bolton was shown into the
morning sitting-room. She was sitting with the Bible before her, but
with some domestic needlework in her lap. He was doing nothing,--not
even having a book ready to his hand. Thus he would sit the greater
part of the day, listening to her when she would read to him, but much
preferring to be left alone. His life had been active and prosperous,
but the evening of his days was certainly not happy.

His son Robert had been anxious to discuss the matter with him first,
but found himself unable to separate them without an amount of ceremony
which would have filled her with suspicion. 'I have received a letter
this morning from William,' he said, addressing himself to his father.

'William Bolton is, I fear, of the world worldly,' said the step-mother.
'His words always savour to me of the huge ungodly city in which he
dwells.'

But that this was not a time for such an exercise he would have
endeavoured to expose the prejudice of the lady. As it was he was very
gentle. 'William is a man who understands his duty well,' he said.

'Many do that, but few act up to their understanding she rejoined.

'I think, sir, I had better read his letter to you. It has been written
with that intention, and I am bound to let you know the contents.
Perhaps Mrs. Bolton will let me go to the end so that we may discuss it
afterwards.'

But Mrs. Bolton would not let him go to the end. He had not probably
expected such forbearance. At every point as to the evidence she
interrupted him, striving to show that the arguments used were of no
real weight. She was altogether irrational, but still she argued her
case well. She withered Bagwax and Dick with her scorn; she ridiculed
the quarrels of the male and female witnesses; she reviled the Secretary
of State, and declared it to be a shame that the Queen should have no
better advisers. But when William Bolton spoke of Hester's happiness,
and of the concessions which should be made to secure that, she burst
out into eloquence. What did he know of her happiness? Was it not
manifest that he was alluding to this