It was not till this decision had been given that Mrs. Bolton felt that the struggle of the last three days had been too much for her. Now, at last, she threw herself upon her bed, weeping bitter tears, tears of a broken spirit, and there she lay prostrate with fatigue and misery. Nor would she go down to say a word of farewell. How could she say adieu to her daughter, leaving her house in such circumstances 'I will give her your love,' said William Bolton. 'Say nothing to her. She does not care for my love, nor for the love of her Father in heaven. She cares only for that adulterer.' The door was opened from within, and the chains were taken away from the gate. 'Oh, John,--oh, my husband,' she exclaimed, as she leaped down the steps into his arms, 'never let me go again; not for a day,--not for an hour!' Then her boxes were brought down, and the nurse came with the child, whom the mother at once took and placed in his father's arms. And the carriage was brought in, and the luggage was placed on it, and the nurse and the baby were seated. 'I will go up to poor mamma for one moment,' she said. She did go to her mother's room, and throwing herself upon the wretched woman, wept over her and kissed her. But the mother, though in some sort she returned the caress, said not a word as her daughter left the room. And she went also to her father and asked his blessing. He muttered a word or two, blessing her, no doubt, with inarticulate words. He also had been thoroughly vanquished. Then she got into the carriage, and was taken back to Folking lying in John Caldigate's arms. Chapter XXXVII Again at Folking