olence from her
father's house you will have all the town, all the county, all England
against you.'

'I should;--I own it;----unless she wished to come to me. If she
chooses to stay, she shall stay.'

'It must not be left to her. If she be so infatuated, she must not be
allowed to judge for herself. Till this trial be over, she and you must
live apart. Then, if that woman does not make good her claim,--if you
can prove that the woman is lying,--then you will have back your wife.
But if, as everybody I find believes at present, it should be proved
that you are the husband of that woman, and that you have basely
betrayed my poor sister by a mock marriage, then she must be left to the
care of her father and her mother, and may Heaven help her in her
misery.' All this he said with much dignity, and in a manner with which
even Caldigate could not take personal offence. 'You must remember,' he
added, 'that this poor injured one is their daughter and my sister.'

'I say that she has been in no wise injured but,--as I also am
injured,--by a wicked plot. And I say that she shall come back to me,
unless she herself elects to remain with her parents.' Then he left the
office and went forth again into the streets.

He now took at once the road to Chesterton, trying as he did so to make
for himself in his own mind a plan or map of the premises. It would, he
thought, be impossible but that his wife would be able to get out of the
house and come to him if he could only make her aware of his presence.
But then there was the baby, and it would be necessary not only that she
should escape herself but that she should bring her child with her.
Would they attempt to hold her? Could it be that they should have
already locked her up in some room up-stairs? And if she did escape out
of some window, even with her baby in her arms, how would it be with
them then as they made their way back into the town? Thinking of this he
hurried back to the inn and told Richard to take the carriage into
Chesterton and wait there at the turn of the lane, where the lane leads
down from the main road to the Grange. He was to wait there, though it
might be all the day, till he heard from or saw his master. The man, who
was quite as keen for his master as was the old gardener for his
mistress on the other side, promised accurate obedience. Then he
retraced his steps and walked as fast as he could to the Grange.

During all this time the mother and the daught