He did not say much on the return journey, but the bigamy case was evidently running in his head, from what he said; and once, in a whisper, poor Mary, who was half broken-hearted, confided to me now, sitting on her other side, that she felt sure poor William was regretting that they had been married. "And I did so want to wait," she said: "but he wouldn't any longer." "Are you two whispering about that there case?" he cried sharply. "No, William dear," said Mary. "Do you feel better?" "Better?" he said irritably. "There isn't anything the matter with me." He turned away from her, and sat watching the side of the road, muttering every now and then to himself in a half-angry way, while poor Mary, in place of going into a tantrum, got hold of my hand between both hers, and held it very hard pressed against the front of her dress, where she was protected by a rigid piece of bone or steel. Every now and then, poor woman, she gave the hand a convulsive pressure, and a great sob in the act of escaping would feel like a throb against my arm. So silent and self-contained did Revitts grow at last, that poor Mary began to pour forth in a whisper the burden of her trouble, while I sat wondering, and thinking what a curious thing this love must be, that could so completely transform people, and yet give them so much pain. "It wasn't my doing, Master Antony dear," whispered Mary; "for I said it would be so much better for me to go back to service for a few years, and I always thought as hasty marriages meant misery. But William was so masterful, he said it was no use his getting on and improving his spelling, and getting his promotion, if he was always to live a weary, dreary bachelor--them was his very words, Master Antony; and now, above all times, was the one for us to get married." "He's tired, Mary," I said; "that's all." "That's all? Ah, my dear! it's a very great all. He's tired of me, that's what he is; and I shall never forgive my self for being so rash." "But you have been engaged several years, haven't you, Mary?" "Yes, my dear; but years ain't long when you're busy and always hard at work. I dessay they're a long time to gentlefolks as has to wait, but it never seemed long to me, and I've done a very rash thing; but I didn't think the punishment was coming quite so soon." "Oh, nonsense, Mary; Bill will be all right again soon," I said, as I could see, by the light of a gas-lamp we passed, that the poor disappointed woman had been crying till she had soaked and spoiled her showy bonnet-strings. "No, my dear, I don't think so; I feel as if it was all a punishment upon me, and that I ought to have waited till he was quite well and strong." It was of no avail to try and comfort, so I contented myself with sitting still and pressing poor Mary's rough honest hand, while the horses rattled merrily along, and we gradually neared the great city.