uing such difficult
questions. I thought it right to tell you the facts after what had
occurred. He has gone, she is there,--and there she will remain for the
present. I could not turn her out. Thinking her, as I do, worthy of my
friendship, I could not do other than befriend her."

"Of course you must be the judge yourself."

"I had to be the judge, my lord."

"I am afraid that the parents of the boys will not understand it."

"I also am afraid. It will be very hard to make them understand it.
There will be some who will work hard to make them misunderstand it."

"I hope not that."

"There will. I must stand the brunt of it. I have had battles before
this, and had hoped that now, when I am getting old, they might have been
at an end. But there is something left of me, and I can fight still. At
any rate, I have made up my mind about this. There she shall remain till
he comes back to fetch her." And so the interview was over, the Bishop
feeling that he had in some slight degree had the best of it,--and the
Doctor feeling that he, in some slight degree, had had the worst. If
possible, he would not talk to the Bishop on the subject again.

He told Mr. Puddicombe also. "With your generosity and kindness of heart
I quite sympathise," said Mr. Puddicombe, endeavouring to be pleasant in
his manner.

"But not with my prudence."

"Not with your prudence," said Mr. Puddicombe, endeavouring to be true at
the same time.

But the Doctor's greatest difficulty was with his wife, whose conduct it
was necessary that he should guide, and whose feelings and conscience he
was most anxious to influence. When she first heard his decision she
almost wrung her hands in despair. If the woman could have gone to
America, and the man have remained, she would have been satisfied.
Anything wrong about a man was but of little moment,--comparatively so,
even though he were a clergyman; but anything wrong about a woman,--and
she so near to herself! O dear! And the poor dear boys,--under the same
roof with her! And the boys' mammas! How would she be able to endure the
sight of that horrid Mrs. Stantiloup;--or Mrs. Stantiloup's words, which
would certainly be conveyed to her? But there was something much worse
for her even than all this. The Doctor insisted that she should go and
call upon the woman! "And take Mary?" asked Mrs. Wortle.

"What would be the good of taking Mary? Who is talking of a child like
that? It is