ew like a shadow to the
drawing-room where Cousin Monica was, and told her to read them. I saw by
her countenance how much alarmed she was by my looks, but she said nothing,
only read the letters hurriedly, and then exclaimed--

'Is this all, my dear child? I really fancied you had found a second will,
and had lost everything. Why, my dearest Maud, we knew all this before.
We quite understood poor dear Austin's motive. Why are you so easily
disturbed?'

'Oh, Cousin Monica, I think he was right; it all seems quite reasonable
now; and I--oh, what a crime!--it must be stopped.'

'My dear Maud, listen to reason. Doctor Bryerly has seen your uncle at
Bartram at least two hours ago. You _can't_ stop it, and why on earth
should you if you could? Don't you think your uncle should be consulted?'
said she.

'But he has _decided_. I have his letter speaking of it as settled; and
Doctor Bryerly--oh, Cousin Monica, he's gone _to tempt him_.'

'Nonsense, girl! Doctor Bryerly is a good and just man, I do believe, and
has, beside, no imaginable motive to pervert either his conscience or his
judgment. He's not gone to tempt him--stuff!--but to unfold the facts and
invite his consideration; and I say, considering how thoughtlessly such
duties are often undertaken, and how long Silas has been living in lazy
solitude, shut out from the world, and unused to discuss anything, I do
think it only conscientious and honourable that he should have a fair and
distinct view of the matter in all its bearings submitted to him before he
indolently incurs what may prove the worst danger he was ever involved in.'

So Lady Knollys argued, with feminine energy, and I must confess, with a
good deal of the repetition which I have sometimes observed in logicians of
my own sex, and she puzzled without satisfying me.

'I don't know why I went to that room,' I said, quite frightened; 'or why I
went to that press; how it happened that these papers, which we never saw
there before, were the first things to strike my eye to-day.'

'What do you mean, dear?' said Lady Knollys.

'I mean this--I think I was _brought_ there, and that _there_ is poor
papa's appeal to me, as plain as if his hand came and wrote it upon the
wall.' I nearly screamed the conclusion of this wild confession.

'You are nervous, my darling; your bad nights have worn you out. Let us go
out; the air will do you good; and I do assure you that you will very soon
see that we are quite right