Maxwell turned, as the old lady made this address to her niece, and looked at her. What would poor old Cherry do? he said to himself, watching her with curiosity and wonder. Was she a person to face this dilemma, which had kept various and more determined persons in difficulty? She let her work drop upon her knee, and looked up with an agitated face. She grew pale and red, and pale again. ‘How am I to speak to James?’ she said, hurriedly catching her breath--‘a man!’ Then she made a pause and an effort, and the doctor, astonished, saw a soft light of resolution come into the mild old maiden’s face. ‘Of course,’ she said, still a little breathless, ‘I will not think of that if there is anything I can do.’ ‘And of course there is something to do!’ said the more energetic old lady. ‘My patience! what do people get old for, doctor? I should do it without thinking twice. What do they say about a sound mind in a sound body? I wish, for my own part, when an old woman gets bronchitis, she could get it in her soul as well, and be all bad together. But for this old body, I’m as strong as ever I was; and Cherry was always weakly, poor dear.’ ‘Do not vex yourself, Aunt Charity; I will go,’ said Miss Cherry, with only a slight faltering in her voice. ‘Mrs. Meredith is a good woman, and my brother James is a good man too, though I wish he was more religious. When a thing is plain duty, that makes it--easy; well, if not easy, at least----. I will do my best,’ she said softly. Mr. Maxwell watched her quite intently. It was all very well to say this here; but would she venture to do it? He had always taken an interest in Cherry, more or less. All these years, during which he had come weekly to the Hill, he had been always sensible when Cherry was not there, and had a way of looking round for her grey gown when he came in. Everybody knew his way of looking round, but no one, much less the chief person concerned, had ever divined that it was that grey garment which he missed when it was not there. Poor faded, fluttering, nervous Cherry; he had always taken an interest in her; would she really have the courage to take this bold, independent step, and do the thing which not one of James Beresford’s friends had dared to do? CHAPTER XIX. THE HOLY INQUISITION.