“No doubt the only thing that concerns you is why your wife went,” said Knox, “and I may tell you she went because she’d promised to go. It bored her stiff, same as it did Mrs. Trivett. They’ve got no use for the new paths, and Medora’s just as much of a Tory at heart as you or her mother, though she wouldn’t own to it. That’s all over, any way. They’ve parted in a dignified fashion, and I’ve done the best day’s work I ever have done in helping you to see the peculiar circumstances and putting the truth before you. Not that even my great efforts would have saved the situation if you hadn’t believed me; but that was your stronghold: you knew I was telling truth. In fact, it’s one of those cases where knowledge of the truth has helped the parties through the storm, and I’ll be thankful to my dying day you was large-minded enough to receive and accept it. It was a great compliment to me that you could trust me, and a great advertisement to your brain power.” “It’s all your work and I don’t deny you the praise,” answered Ned. “Of course, if things had been otherwise from what they are, nothing would have come of it; but as the facts are what we understand, then I’m half in a mind to take Medora back. I dare say the people will think I’m a silly, knock-kneed fool to do so; but those who know the truth would not. There’s only one thing will prevent me, and that’s the woman herself. I’ll see her presently, and if she comes out of it in a decent spirit, then what I say may happen. But if there’s a shadow of doubt about it in her mind, then we’ll stop as we are. It pretty much depends upon her now.” “In that case I congratulate you, because her spirit is contrite to the dust, and never, if she lives to be a hundred, will she fail of her duty again. She’ll be a pattern to every married woman on earth for the rest of her life, no doubt. The highest and best she prays for is to be forgiven by you; but she don’t dare to hope even that; and if she found she was more than forgiven, then her gratitude would rise to amazing heights, no doubt.” “Well it might,” declared Dingle, and the other spoke again. “Yes; and none better pleased than me; but though I hadn’t thought we’d got nearly so far as this yet awhile, now I see that we have, I must speak a word more, Ned. What I’m going to say now is a terrible delicate thing; and yet, late though the hour is, this is the appointed time. Give me a spot of whiskey and switch off from yourself to me for five minutes.” “I was coming to you. I’m not blind, and I see very clearly what I owe you in this matter. You’ve took a deal of trouble, and I’m grateful, Knox, and so will everybody else be when they understand.”