ed at poor Darling: in all probability Giles
Winterborne, by obtaining for her a horse of such intelligence and
docility, had been the means of saving her husband's life. She paused
over the strange thought; and then there appeared her father behind
her. She saw that he knew things were not as they ought to be, from
the troubled dulness of his eye, and from his face, different points of
which had independent motions, twitchings, and tremblings, unknown to
himself, and involuntary.

"He was detained, I suppose, last night?" said Melbury.

"Oh yes; a bad case in the vale," she replied, calmly.

"Nevertheless, he should have stayed at home."

"But he couldn't, father."

Her father turned away. He could hardly bear to see his whilom
truthful girl brought to the humiliation of having to talk like that.

That night carking care sat beside Melbury's pillow, and his stiff
limbs tossed at its presence. "I can't lie here any longer," he
muttered. Striking a light, he wandered about the room. "What have I
done--what have I done for her?" he said to his wife, who had anxiously
awakened. "I had long planned that she should marry the son of the man
I wanted to make amends to; do ye mind how I told you all about it,
Lucy, the night before she came home? Ah! but I was not content with
doing right, I wanted to do more!"

"Don't raft yourself without good need, George," she replied. "I won't
quite believe that things are so much amiss. I won't believe that Mrs.
Charmond has encouraged him. Even supposing she has encouraged a great
many, she can have no motive to do it now. What so likely as that she
is not yet quite well, and doesn't care to let another doctor come near
her?"

He did not heed. "Grace used to be so busy every day, with fixing a
curtain here and driving a tin-tack there; but she cares for no
employment now!"

"Do you know anything of Mrs. Charmond's past history? Perhaps that
would throw some light upon things. Before she came here as the wife
of old Charmond four or five years ago, not a soul seems to have heard
aught of her. Why not make inquiries? And then do ye wait and see
more; there'll be plenty of opportunity. Time enough to cry when you
know 'tis a crying matter; and 'tis bad to meet troubles half-way."

There was some good-sense in the notion of seeing further. Melbury
resolved to inquire and wait, hoping still, but oppressed
between-whiles with much fear.

CHAPTER XXX.

Examine