Newbury read it, and as he did so, in his younger face there appeared the same expression as in his father's; a kind of grave sadness, in which there was no trace of indecision, though much of trouble. Lady William asked no question, though in the course of her little pecking meal, she threw some anxious glances at her husband and son. They preserved a strict silence at table on the subject of the letter; but as soon as breakfast was over, Lord William made a sign to his son, and they went out into the garden together, walking away from the house. "You know we can't do this, Edward!" said Lord William, with energy, as soon as they were in solitude. Edward's eyes assented. His father resumed, impetuously: "How can I go on in close relations with a man--my right hand in the estate--almost more than my agent--associated with all the church institutions and charities--a communicant--secretary of the communicant's guild!--our friend and helper in all our religious business--who has been the head and front of the campaign against immorality in this village--responsible, with us, for many decisions that must have seemed harsh to poor things in trouble--who yet now proposes, himself, to maintain what we can only regard--what everybody on this estate has been taught to regard--as an immoral connection with a married woman! Of course I understand his plea. The thing is not to be done openly. The so-called wife is to move away; nothing more is to be seen of her here; but the supposed marriage is to continue, and they will meet as often as his business here makes it possible. Meanwhile his powers and duties on this estate are to be as before. I say the proposal is monstrous! It would falsify our whole life here,--and make it one ugly hypocrisy!" There was silence a little. Then Newbury asked: "You of course made it plain once more--in your letter yesterday--that there would be no harshness--that as far as money went--" "I told him he could have _whatever_ was necessary! We wished to force no man's conscience; but we could not do violence to our own. If they decided to remain together--then he and we must part; but we would make it perfectly easy for them to go elsewhere--in England or the colonies. If they separate, and she will accept the arrangements we propose for her--then he remains here, our trusted friend and right hand as before." "It is, of course, the wrench of giving up the farm--" Lord William raised his hands in protesting distress. "Perfectly true, of course, that he's given the best years of his life to it!--that he's got all sorts of experiments on hand--that he can never build up exactly the same sort of thing elsewhere--that the farm is the apple of his eye. It's absolutely true--every word of it! But then, why did he take this desperate step!--without consulting any of his friends! It's no responsibility of ours!"