My carriage is at the door, and the people waiting by thousands in the
street to welcome your deliverance."

Mrs. Gaunt drew herself up with fiery and bitter disdain.

"Are they so?" said she, grimly. "Then I'll balk them. I'll steal away
in the dead of night. No, miserable populace, that howls and hisses with
the strong against the weak, you shall have no part in my triumph; 't is
sacred to my friends. You honored me with your hootings, you shall not
disgrace me with your acclamations. Here I stay till Mercy Vint, my
guardian angel, leaves me forever."

She then requested Sir George to order his horses back to the inn, and
the coachman was to hold himself in readiness to start when the whole
town should be asleep.

Meantime, a courier was despatched to Hernshaw Castle, to prepare for
Mrs. Gaunt's reception.

Mrs. Menteith made a bed up for Mercy Vint, and at midnight, when the
coast was clear, came the parting.

It was a sad one.

Even Mercy, who had great self-command, could not then restrain her
tears.

To apply the sweet and touching words of Scripture, "They sorrowed most
of all for this, that they should see each other's face no more."

Sir George accompanied Mrs. Gaunt to Hernshaw.

She drew back into her corner of the carriage, and was very silent and
_distraite_.

After one or two attempts at conversation, he judged it wisest, and even
most polite, to respect her mood.

At last she burst out, "I cannot bear it, I cannot bear it."

"Why, what is amiss?" inquired Sir George.

"What is amiss? Why, 't is all amiss. 'T is so heartless, so ungrateful,
to let that poor angel go home to Lancashire all alone, now she has
served my turn. Sir George, do not think I undervalue your company: but
if you would but take her home, instead of taking me! Poor thing, she is
brave; but when the excitement of her good action is over, and she goes
back the weary road all alone, what desolation it will be! My heart
bleeds for her. I know I am an unconscionable woman, to ask such a
thing; but then you are a true chevalier; you always were, and you saw
her merit directly. O, do pray leave me to slip unnoticed into Hernshaw
Castle, and do you accompany my benefactress to her humble home. Will
you, dear Sir George? 'T would be such a load off my heart."

To this appeal, uttered with trembling lip and moist eyes, Sir George
replied in character. He declined to desert Mrs. Gaunt, until he had
seen her safe home; but, th