He was fuming and raging in his despair, and Hannah Hindes motioned to her husband, to do or say something to calm the old man. But Henry Hindes remained as silent and motionless, as if he had been carved in stone. Then she attempted the task herself. ‘Dear Mr Crampton,’ she whispered, laying her gentle hand on his knotted one, ‘surely you are going too far. This terrible disappointment has come upon you too suddenly, but try to look at it in a more reasonable light. Jenny has done very, very wrong; no one could think otherwise, but you must not speak of her as if she were abandoned to sin. She is honourably married, remember; and she is so young, that perhaps she did not view the fault of rebelling against your authority from so serious a point of view as we do. Mr Walcheren doubtless persuaded her that it was only a venial error, which you would soon forgive, for I cannot believe that she could ever forget your great love for her, nor hers for you.’ She smoothed the old man’s palm with a motherly touch as she spoke, and her soft voice and manner served in a measure to soothe his extreme agitation. ‘You are a good woman, Mrs Hindes, my dear,’ he replied, more calmly, ‘but my daughter must abide by the step she has taken, however this fellow cajoled her into it. She knew well enough that I would never give my consent to her marriage with a d--d Papist. She gave me her solemn promise, too, to give up all communication with him. She lied to me, Mrs Hindes, as the man lied to your husband, and I renounce them both--I renounce them both! Henceforth, I have no child. Heaven took five from me, and the devil’s got the last.’ And with that Mr Crampton drew forth a red silk handkerchief and buried his face in it. ‘But what is to be done?’ inquired Henry Hindes, ‘what is to be done?’ Hannah glanced round at him in astonishment. His full, deep voice seemed all of a sudden to have become thin and squeaky. ‘Mr Crampton seems to think that we can do nothing, dearest,’ she answered. ‘But some sort of reply must be sent to her letter,’ he continued, ‘or she may present herself at any moment in Hampstead. She is very impetuous, you know, Crampton, and will not easily believe that you can be seriously angry with her. We must prevent a scandal if possible. You had better write to her, or see her once, just to come to an understanding, that you may know what to expect, and she also.’ ‘I will never see her, nor write to her again,’ said Mr Crampton. ‘Henry, could _you_ not do so?’ asked his wife, pleadingly. ‘If Mr Crampton consents to it, could you not first verify the marriage, and then see poor Jenny, and tell her her father’s decision? Someone ought surely to do it.’ ‘Where does she write from?’ asked Mr Hindes. ‘From the Castle Warden Hotel at Dover, whence they will probably cross over to Paris. If you follow them it should be at once. Will you go? Shall I get your portmanteau ready?’