Mr. Dolbear was restless, but he ate as good a dinner as usual and then, having heard that all was going well, went into the orchard with his pipe. The children were despatched to Sunday school and presently an old doctor arrived, visited Mary and then joined the farmer under the apple trees. “A matter of form,” he said. “I come as a matter of form, Tom.” Mr. Dolbear enquired as to the law of averages, and the medical man advised him to set no faith upon it. “When you’re dealing with the statistics and the population as a whole, such things work out pretty regular, I grant you,” he explained, “but when you’re dealing with one woman, who has got into a habit, then it’s not wise to indulge in general principles. Habit is stronger than anything but death, Tom; and though you may fairly hope for a son, I may say in sporting language that the betting is a shade against.” “You think ’twill be a girl, doctor?” “I do—not long odds, but about two to one.” Within doors Lydia was standing reading a letter with shaking hands, while silent, strained, staring, humped up in the chair opposite her, sat Ned Dingle. He had come from Ashprington, burst in upon her while she was helping a maiden to wash up, ordered her to follow him to the parlour and then broken the fatal news. “She’s gone—run away—Medora,” he said. “She rose afore I was awake this morning, and when I came down house, I got this to breakfast. The post-man brought it, just as I was wondering what the mischief had become of her. Read it.” He handed Lydia Medora’s epistle and sat and watched her while she read it. He did not interrupt but kept his eyes on her face and gnawed his knuckles as she read. When she had finished, she let the fatal sheet fall on the ground and took off her glasses. Then she bent down and picked up the letter. “A cheerful, damned sort of thing for a husband to get,” said Ned. “Going to marry Kellock, you see.” “As to that, she’ll marry Kellock when you please and not before,” answered Lydia quietly. “I don’t know what to say to you, Ned. This is beyond anything. I never guessed for a moment she’d sink to such wickedness. God’s my judge I didn’t know she was having any truck with that man.” The nurse looked in. “Where’s doctor?” she asked. “In the orchard with Mr. Dolbear,” answered Lydia. Mrs. Damerell departed and she turned again to Ned. “It’s an insulting letter. I’m terribly shocked. I don’t pretend to understand the rising generation, my dear. After they grow out of childhood, they get too deep for me. But I couldn’t have thought any daughter of mine and my husband’s would ever have done this.”