And with these two pricks of her needle she left them both more or less discomfited, and went to scrutinize and anatomize her mistress's heart with plenty of cunning, but no mercy. She related her own part in the affair very briefly, but dwelt with well-feigned sympathy on the priest's feelings. "He turned as white as a sheet, ma'am, when I told him, and offered me his very ring off his finger, he was so grateful; poor man!" "You did not take it, I hope?" said Mrs. Gaunt, quickly. "La, no, ma'am. I hadn't the heart." Mrs. Gaunt was silent awhile. When she spoke again it was to inquire whether Ryder had given him the letter. "That I did: and it brought the tears into his poor eyes; and such beautiful eyes as he has, to be sure. You would have pitied him if you had seen him read it, and cry over it, and then kiss it and put it in his bosom he did." Mrs. Gaunt said nothing, but turned her head away. The operator shot a sly glance into the looking-glass, and saw a pearly tear trickling down her subject's fair cheek. So she went on, all sympathy outside, and remorselessness within. "To think of that face, more like an angel's than a man's, to be dragged through a nasty horse-pond. 'Tis a shame of master to set his men on a clergyman." And so was proceeding, with well-acted and catching warmth, to dig as dangerous a pit for Mrs. Gaunt as ever was dug for any lady; for whatever Mrs. Gaunt had been betrayed into saying, this Ryder would have used without mercy, and with diabolical skill. Yes it was a pit, and the lady's pure, but tender heart pushed her towards it, and her fiery temper drew her towards it. Yet she escaped it this time. The dignity, delicacy, and pride, that is oftener found in these old families than out of them, saved her from that peril. She did not see the trap; but she spurned the bait by native instinct. She threw up her hand in a moment, with a queenly gesture, and stopped the tempter. "Not-one-word-from my servant against my husband in my hearing!" said she superbly. And Ryder shrank back into herself directly. "Child," said Mrs. Gaunt, "you have done me a great service, and my husband too; for, if this dastardly act had been done in his name, he would soon have been heartily ashamed of it and deplored it. Such services can never be quite repaid; but you will find a purse in that drawer with five guineas; it is yours; and, my lavender silk dress, be pleased to wear that about me; to remind me of the good office you have done me. And now, all you can do for me is to leave me; for I am very, very unhappy." Ryder retired with the spoil, and Mrs. Gaunt leaned her head over her chair, and cried without stint. After this, no angry words passed between Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt; but something worse, a settled coolness sprung up.