Mr Brown stared broadly at the speaker; his face reddened. He watched her get up and make her way out of the room with a perplexed look, half angry, half compassionate. She went out with a little of the passionate and resentful air which deprives such disappointments of the sympathy they deserve--wrathful, vindictive, consoling herself with dreams that it was all a plot, and she could still have her rights; but a sad figure, notwithstanding her flutter of bitter rage--a sad figure to those who knew what home she was going to, and how she had lived. Her very dress, so much better than it usually was, enhanced the melancholy aspect of the poor woman’s withdrawal. Her daughter followed her closely, ashamed, and not venturing to lift her eyes. They were a pathetic couple to that little group that knew all about them. Nancy threw the room-door open for them, with a revengeful satisfaction. One of the funeral attendants who still lingered outside opened the outer one. They went out of the subdued light, into the day, their hearts tingling with a hundred wounds. At least the mother’s heart was pierced, and palpitating in every nerve. There was an instinctive silence while they went out, and after they were gone. Even Mr Brown’s “humph!” was a very subdued protest against the injustice which Mrs Christian had done him. Everybody stood respectful of the real calamity. “And so, there they are just where they were!” cried the young surgeon, who was one of the party; “and pretty sweet Bessie must still carry her father on her shoulders, and drag her mother by her side wherever she goes; it’s very hard--one can’t help thinking it’s a very hard burden for a girl of her years.” “But it is a burden of which she might be relieved,” said Mr Brown, with a smile. The young man coloured high and drew back a little. “Few men have courage enough to take up such loads of their own will,” he said, with a little heat--“I have burdens of my own.” A few words may imply a great deal in a little company, where all the interlocutors know all about each other. This, though it was simple enough, disturbed the composure of the young doctor. A minute after he muttered something about his further presence being unnecessary, and hastened away. There were now only left the rector, the churchwarden, and Mr Brown. “Of course you will accept her trust, Mr Brown,” said the rector. The attorney made a great many grimaces, but said nothing. The whole matter was too startling and sudden to have left him time to think what he was to do.