not answered it yet?"
"No; I have answered nothing as yet. But I have, I think, made up my mind
that the question must be answered."
"That everything should be told?"
"Everything,--to him. My idea is to tell everything to him, and to leave
it to him to decide what should be done. Should he refuse to repeat the
story any further, and then bid us go away from Bowick, I should think
that his conduct had been altogether straightforward and not
uncharitable."
"And you,--what would you do then?"
"I should go. What else?"
"But whither?"
"Ah! on that we must decide. He would be friendly with me. Though he
might think it necessary that I should leave Bowick, he would not turn
against me violently."
"He could do nothing."
"I think he would assist me rather. He would help me, perhaps, to find
some place where I might still earn my bread by such skill as I
possess;--where I could do so without dragging in aught of my domestic
life, as I have been forced to do here."
"I have been a curse to you," exclaimed the unhappy wife.
"My dearest blessing," he said. "That which you call a curse has come
from circumstances which are common to both of us. There need be no more
said about it. That man has been a source of terrible trouble to us. The
trouble must be discussed from time to time, but the necessity of enduring
it may be taken for granted."
"I cannot be a philosopher such as you are," she said.
"There is no escape from it. The philosophy is forced upon us. When an
evil thing is necessary, there remains only the consideration how it may
be best borne."
"You must tell him, then?"
"I think so. I have a week to consider of it; but I think so. Though he
is very kind at this moment in giving me the option, and means what he
says in declaring that I shall remain even though I tell him nothing, yet
his mind would become uneasy, and he would gradually become discontented.
Think how great is his stake in the school! How would he feel towards me,
were its success to be gradually diminished because he kept a master here
of whom people believed some unknown evil?"
"There has been no sign of any such falling off?"
"There has been no time for it. It is only now that people are beginning
to talk. Had nothing of the kind been said, had this Bishop asked no
questions, had we been regarded as people simply obscure, to whom no
mystery attached itself, the thing might have gone on; but as it is, I
|