es, still keeping
them in his own hand. "Oh, I'm all right; I am," said Mollett.

"Oh, you are, are you?" said the lawyer, just glancing at the paper,
which he would not appear to heed. "I am glad you think so."

"If there were any doubt about it, she'd know," said he, pointing
away up towards the body of the house. Both Mr. Prendergast and Mrs.
Jones understood well who was that she to whom he alluded.

"You are satisfied at any rate, Mrs. Jones," said the lawyer. But
Mrs. Jones had hidden her face in her apron, and would not look up.
She could not understand why this friend of the family should push
the matter so dreadfully against them. If he would rise from his
chair and destroy that wretch who stood before them, then indeed he
might be called a friend!

Mr. Prendergast had now betaken himself to the door, and was standing
with his back to it, and with his hands in his trousers-pockets,
close to the chair on which Mrs. Jones was sitting. He had resolved
that he would get that woman's spoken evidence out of her; and he
had gotten it. But now, what was he to do with her next?--with her
or with the late Mr. Talbot of Tallyho Lodge? And having satisfied
himself of that fact, which from the commencement he had never
doubted, what could he best do to spare the poor lady who was so
terribly implicated in this man's presence?

"Mrs. Jones," said he, standing over her, and gently touching her
shoulder, "I am sorry to have pained you in this way; but it was
necessary that we should know, without a doubt, who this man is,--and
who he was. Truth is always the best, you know. So good a woman as
you cannot but understand that."

"I suppose it is, sir,--I suppose it is," said Mrs. Jones, through
her tears, now thoroughly humbled. The world was pretty nearly at
an end, as far as she was concerned. Here, in this very house of
Castle Richmond, in Sir Thomas's own room, was her ladyship's former
husband, acknowledged as such! What further fall of the planet into
broken fragments could terrify, or drive her from her course more
thoroughly than this? Truth! yes, truth in the abstract, might be
very good. But such a truth as this! how could any one ever say that
that was good? Such was the working of her mind; but she took no
trouble to express her thoughts.

"Yes," continued Mr. Prendergast, speaking still in a low voice, with
a tone that was almost tender, "truth is always best. Look at this
wretched man here! He would have ki