blow of
all,--of all blows of this sort,--came to him from poor Lady Anne
Clifford. She wrote a piteous letter to him, in which she implored him to
allow her to take her two boys away.

"My dear Doctor Wortle," she said, "so many people have been telling so
many dreadful things about this horrible affair, that I do not dare to
send my darling boys back to Bowick again. Uncle Clifford and Lord Robert
both say that I should be very wrong. The Marchioness has said so much
about it that I dare not go against her. You know what my own feelings
are about you and dear Mrs. Wortle; but I am not my own mistress. They
all tell me that it is my first duty to think about the dear boys'
welfare; and of course that is true. I hope you won't be very angry with
me, and will write one line to say that you forgive me.--Yours most
sincerely,

"ANNE CLIFFORD."

In answer to this the Doctor did write as follows;--

"MY DEAR LADY ANNE,--Of course your duty is very plain,--to do what you
think best for the boys; and it is natural enough that you should follow
the advice of your relatives and theirs.--Faithfully yours,

"JEFFREY WORTLE."

He could not bring himself to write in a more friendly tone, or to tell
her that he forgave her. His sympathies were not with her. His
sympathies at the present moment were only with Mrs. Peacocke. But then
Lady Anne Clifford was not a beautiful woman, as was Mrs. Peacocke.

This was a great blow. Two other boys had also been summoned away, making
five in all, whose premature departure was owing altogether to the
virulent tongue of that wretched old Mother Shipton. And there had been
four who were to come in the place of four others, who, in the course of
nature, were going to carry on their more advanced studies elsewhere.
Vacancies such as these had always been pre-occupied long beforehand by
ambitious parents. These very four places had been pre-occupied, but now
they were all vacant. There would be nine empty beds in the school when
it met again after the holidays; and the Doctor well understood that nine
beds remaining empty would soon cause others to be emptied. It is success
that creates success, and decay that produces decay. Gradual decay he
knew that he could not endure. He must shut up his school,--give up his
employment,--and retire altogether from the activity of life. He felt
that if it came to this with him he must in very truth turn his face to
the wall and die.