h
other. If he saw her as she entered or left the place, he would lift
his hat to her and pass by without speaking. He was not admitted to
those councils of his mother's, and would not submit to ask after
his mother's welfare or to inquire as to her affairs from a stranger.
On no other subject was it possible that he should now speak to the
daily visitor and the only visitor at Orley Farm. All this Mrs. Orme
understood, and saw that the young man was alone and comfortless. He
passed his hours below, in his own room, and twice a day his mother
found him in the parlour, and then they sat through their silent,
miserable meals. She would then leave him, always saying some soft
words of motherly love, and putting her hand either upon his shoulder
or his arm. On such occasions he was never rough to her, but he would
never respond to her caress. She had ill-treated him, preferring in
her trouble the assistance of a stranger to his assistance. She would
ask him neither for his money nor his counsel, and as she had thus
chosen to stand aloof from him, he also would stand aloof from her.
Not for always,--as he said to himself over and over again; for his
heart misgave him when he saw the lines of care so plainly written
on his mother's brow. Not for always should it be so. The day of the
trial would soon be present, and the day of the trial would soon be
over; then again would they be friends. Poor young man! Unfortunate
young man!

Mrs. Orme saw all this, and to her it was very terrible. What would
be the world to her, if her boy should frown at her, and look black
when she caressed him? And she thought that it was the fault of
the mother rather than of the son; as indeed was not all that
wretchedness the mother's fault? But then again, there was the one
great difficulty. How could any step be taken in the right direction
till the whole truth had been confessed to him?

The two women were sitting together in that up stairs room; and the
day of the trial was now not a full week distant from them, when Mrs.
Orme again tried to persuade the mother to intrust her son with the
burden of all her misery. On the preceding day Mr. Solomon Aram had
been down at Orley Farm, and had been with Lady Mason for an hour.

"He knows the truth!" Lady Mason had said to her friend. "I am sure
of that."

"But did he ask you?"

"Oh, no, he did not ask me that. He asked of little things that
happened at the time; but from his manner I am sure he