ordance, and
almost of sympathy. It was not that Lucius had ever for a moment
suspected his mother of aught that was wrong. Had he done so he
might perhaps have been more gentle towards her in his thoughts and
words. He not only fully trusted her, but he was quite fixed in
his confidence that nothing could shake either her or him in their
rights. But under these circumstances he could not understand how she
could consent to endure without resistance the indignities which were
put upon her. "She should combat them for my sake, if not for her
own," he said to himself over and over again. And he had said so also
to her, but his words had had no effect.

She, on the other hand, felt that he was cruel to her. She was
weighed down almost to the ground by these sufferings which had
fallen on her, and yet he would not be gentle and soft to her. She
could have borne it all, she thought, if he would have borne with
her. She still hoped that if she remained quiet no further trial
would take place. At any rate this might be so. That it would be so
she had the assurance of Mr. Furnival. And yet all this evil which
she dreaded worse than death was to be precipitated on her by her
son! So they sat through the long evening, speechless; each seated
with the pretence of reading, but neither of them capable of the
attention which a book requires.

He did not tell her then that he had been with Mr. Dockwrath, but she
knew by his manner that he had taken some terrible step. She waited
patiently the whole evening, hoping that he would tell her, but when
the hour came for her to go up to her room he had told her nothing.
If he now were to turn against her, that would be worse than all! She
went up to her room and sat herself down to think. All that passed
through her brain on that night I may not now tell; but the grief
which pressed on her at this moment with peculiar weight was the
self-will and obstinacy of her boy. She said to herself that she
would be willing now to die,--to give back her life at once, if such
might be God's pleasure; but that her son should bring down her hairs
with shame and sorrow to the grave--! In that thought there was a
bitterness of agony which she knew not how to endure!

The next morning at breakfast he still remained silent, and his brow
was still black. "Lucius," she said, "did you do anything in that
matter yesterday?"

"Yes, mother; I saw Mr. Dockwrath."

"Well?"

"I took Peregrine Orme with me tha