take?"

"Nothing worth troubling you with."

"One would think you doubted my honesty," he said, with a laugh, though
his colour rose in a quick resentfulness frequent with him.

"You need think no such thing," said she drily. "It is simply that I,
in common with the rest of the world, feel that there are certain things
which had better be done by certain people than by others."

"As you like, as you like," said Wildeve laconically. "It is not worth
arguing about. Well, I think I must turn homeward again, as the inn must
not be left long in charge of the lad and the maid only."

He went his way, his farewell being scarcely so courteous as his
greeting. But Mrs. Yeobright knew him thoroughly by this time, and took
little notice of his manner, good or bad.

When Wildeve was gone Mrs. Yeobright stood and considered what would be
the best course to adopt with regard to the guineas, which she had not
liked to entrust to Wildeve. It was hardly credible that Thomasin had
told him to ask for them, when the necessity for them had arisen
from the difficulty of obtaining money at his hands. At the same time
Thomasin really wanted them, and might be unable to come to Blooms-End
for another week at least. To take or send the money to her at the inn
would be impolite, since Wildeve would pretty surely be present, or
would discover the transaction; and if, as her aunt suspected, he
treated her less kindly than she deserved to be treated, he might
then get the whole sum out of her gentle hands. But on this particular
evening Thomasin was at Mistover, and anything might be conveyed to
her there without the knowledge of her husband. Upon the whole the
opportunity was worth taking advantage of.

Her son, too, was there, and was now married. There could be no more
proper moment to render him his share of the money than the present.
And the chance that would be afforded her, by sending him this gift,
of showing how far she was from bearing him ill-will, cheered the sad
mother's heart.

She went upstairs and took from a locked drawer a little box, out of
which she poured a hoard of broad unworn guineas that had lain there
many a year. There were a hundred in all, and she divided them into two
heaps, fifty in each. Tying up these in small canvas bags, she went down
to the garden and called to Christian Cantle, who was loitering about in
hope of a supper which was not really owed him. Mrs. Yeobright gave
him the moneybags, charged him