Thus when Lucy made up her mind to keep Durant’s intimation of Nancy’s near presence, to herself, she undertook a burden for which her strength was scarcely fit. To help herself to bear it, she said to herself, that she had as yet no certainty on the subject--that she was not sure that the woman Durant had seen was Mrs. Arthur; and that she herself having once seen her brother’s wife did not recognise her now, though compelled by a hundred circumstances to believe that this was she. No, she said to herself, she had no legal warrant, no certainty sufficiently strong to justify her in disturbing the minds of her parents by a guess which, perhaps, might turn out mistaken. It would disturb their minds greatly. Their kindly prepossession in favour of the stranger was not strong enough to bear such an interruption, and they would be entirely at a loss what to do; what Arthur would wish them to do; what would be most expedient in the painful circumstances. If Nancy was known to be Arthur’s wife, she could not remain there without acknowledgment from Arthur’s family; and how could they adopt her into their bosom when it was she who had separated from her husband, sent him away from her, ruined his life? She could not be at variance with her husband, and in friendship with his father and mother--parted from him, but received by them. No, that was impossible; and when nobody even knew whether it was Nancy! It might be quite another person whom Lewis had seen--it might be some one from Oakenden, the nearest town, come over for the day. It might be the clergyman’s wife of the next parish, young Mrs. Brown, who was lately married and not much known in the neighbourhood. It might be--half a dozen people--why should it be Mrs. Arthur of Wren Cottage? If this were, indeed, Nancy, the wife of Arthur Curtis, was it at all probable that she would have taken so transparent a disguise? All these arguments Lucy went over to herself, feeling that they were futile. In her own mind, she had no doubt that Mrs. Arthur at the Cottage was her sister-in-law, and that Lewis had seen her, and that she had fled from him. But these were simply ideas of her own, no more; and even if they were facts, and proved true, what end could be served by telling her mother--was it not better to wait, to see what might happen, to let events shape themselves? But oh! how hard--how much harder than anyone could have supposed it was!