'If he said that you were a goose it might be nearer the mark.'

'Really! But a goose must know what she is to do.'

'You must write her a letter and call her Mrs. Caldigate. That will be
an acknowledgment.'

'And what shall I say to her?'

'Ask her to come here, if you will.'

'And him?'

'And him, too. The fact is we have got to swallow it all. I was sure
that he had married that woman, and then of course I wanted to get
Hester away from him. Now I believe that he never married her, and
therefore we must make the best of him as Hester's husband.'

'You used to like him.'

'Yes;--and perhaps I shall again. But why on earth did he pay twenty
thousand pounds to those miscreants? That is what I could not get over.
It was that which made me sure he was guilty. It is that which still
puzzles me so that I can hardly make up my mind to be quite sure that he
is innocent. But still we have to be sure. Perhaps the miracle will be
explained some day.'

Chapter LXII

John Caldigate's Return

The carriage started with the old man in it as soon as the horses could
be harnessed; but on the Folking causeway it met the fly which was
bringing John Caldigate to his home,--so that the father and son greeted
each other in the street amidst the eyes of the villagers. To them it
did not much matter, but the squire had certainly been right in saving
Hester from so public a demonstration of her feelings. The two men said
hardly a word when they met, but stood there for a moment grasping each
other's hands. Then the driver of the fly was paid, and the carriage
was turned back to the house. 'Is she well?' asked Caldigate.

'She will be well now.'

'Has she been ill?'

'She has not been very happy, John, while you have been away from her.'

'And the boy?'

'He is all right. He has been spared the heart-breaking knowledge of the
injury done to him. It has been very bad with you, I suppose.'

'I do not like being in jail, sir. It was the length of the time before
me that seemed to crush me. I could not bring myself to believe that I
should live to see the end of it.'

'The end has come, my boy,' said his father, again taking him by the
hand, 'but the cruelty of the thing remains. Had there been another
trial as soon as the other evidence was obtained, the struggle would
have kept your heart up. It is damnable that a man in an office up in
London should have to decide on such a matter, and should be able to
take