mfort there either for
him or for his wife. He and his sons had been too powerful for her in
arranging the marriage; but now, now that it was done, nothing could
stop her reproaches. He had been made to think it wrong on one side to
shut his girl up, and now from the other side he was being made to think
that he had done very wrong in allowing her to escape.

It had been arranged that they should be driven out of Cambridge to the
railway station at Audley End on their way to London; so that they might
avoid the crowd of people who would know them at the Cambridge station.
As soon as they had got away from the door of Robert Bolton's house, the
husband attempted to comfort his young wife. 'At any rate it is over,'
he said, alluding of course to the tedium of their wedding festivities.

'So much is over,' she replied.

'You do not regret anything?'

She shook her head slowly as she leaned lovingly against his shoulder.
'You are not sorry, Hester, that you have become my wife?'

'I had to be your wife,--because I love you.'

'Is that a sorrow?'

'I had been all my mother's;--and now I am all yours. She has thrown me
off because I have disobeyed her. I hope you will never throw me off.'

'Is it likely?'

'I think not. I know that I shall never throw you off. They have tried
to make me believe that you are not all that you ought to be--in
religion. But now your religion shall be my religion, and your life my
life. I shall be of your colour--altogether. But, John, a limb cannot
be wrenched out of a socket, as I have been torn away from my mother,
without pain.'

'She will forgive it all when we come back.'

'I fear--I fear. I never knew her to forgive anything yet.' This was
very bad; but nevertheless it was plain to him as it had been plain to
Robert and William Bolton, that not because of the violence of the
woman's character should the life of her daughter have been sacrificed
to her. His duty to make her new life bright for her was all the more
plain and all the more sound,--and as they made their first journey
together he explained to her how sacred that duty should always be to
him.

Chapter XXII

As To Touching Pitch

Before the wedding old Mr. Caldigate arranged with his son that he would
give up to the young married people the house at Folking, and indeed the
entire management of the property. 'I have made up my mind about it,'
said the squire, who at this time was living with his son on