I felt strongly tempted, at times, to enlighten my mother andsister on the real character and circumstances of the persecutedtenant of Wildfell Hall, and at first I greatly regretted havingomitted to ask that lady's permission to do so; but, on duereflection, I considered that if it were known to them, it couldnot long remain a secret to the Millwards and Wilsons, and such wasmy present appreciation of Eliza Millward's disposition, that, ifonce she got a clue to the story, I should fear she would soon findmeans to enlighten Mr. Huntingdon upon the place of his wife'sretreat. I would therefore wait patiently till these weary sixmonths were over, and then, when the fugitive had found anotherhome, and I was permitted to write to her, I would beg to beallowed to clear her name from these vile calumnies: at present Imust content myself with simply asserting that I knew them to befalse, and would prove it some day, to the shame of those whoslandered her. I don't think anybody believed me, but everybodysoon learned to avoid insinuating a word against her, or evenmentioning her name in my presence. They thought I was so madlyinfatuated by the seductions of that unhappy lady that I wasdetermined to support her in the very face of reason; and meantimeI grow insupportably morose and misanthropical from the idea thatevery one I met was harbouring unworthy thoughts of the supposedMrs. Graham, and would express them if he dared. My poor motherwas quite distressed about me; but I couldn't help it - at least Ithought I could not, though sometimes I felt a pang of remorse formy undutiful conduct to her, and made an effort to amend, attendedwith some partial success; and indeed I was generally morehumanised in my demeanour to her than to any one else, Mr. Lawrenceexcepted. Rose and Fergus usually shunned my presence; and it waswell they did, for I was not fit company for them, nor they for me,under the present circumstances.

Mrs. Huntingdon did not leave Wildfell Hall till above two monthsafter our farewell interview. During that time she never appearedat church, and I never went near the house: I only knew she wasstill there by her brother's brief answers to my many and variedinquiries respecting her. I was a very constant and attentivevisitor to him throughout the whole period of his illness andconvalescence; not only from the interest I took in his recovery,and my desire to cheer him up and make the utmost possible amendsfor my former 'brutality,' but from my growing attachment tohimself, and the increasing pleasure I found in his society -partly from his increased cordiality to me, but chiefly on accountof his close connection, both in blood and in affection, with myadored Helen. I loved him for it better than I liked to express:and I took a secret delight in pressing those slender whitefingers, so marvellously like her own, considering he was not awoman, and in watching the passing changes in his fair, palefeatures, and observing the intonations of his voice, detectingresemblances which I wondered had never struck me before. Heprovoked me at times, indeed, by his evident reluctance to talk tome about his sister, though I did not question the friendliness ofhis motives in wishing to discourage my remembrance of her.

His recovery was not quite so rapid as he had expected it to be; hewas not able to mount his pony till a fortnight after the date ofour reconciliation; and the first use he made of his returningstrength was to ride over by night to Wildfell Hall, to see hissister. It was a hazardous enterprise both for him and for her,but he thought it necessary to consult with her on the subject ofher projected departure, if not to calm her apprehensionsrespecting his health, and the worst result was a slight relapse ofhis illness, for no one knew of the visit but the inmates of theold Hall, except myself; and I believe it had not been hisintention to mention it to me, for when I came to see him the nextday, and observed he was not so well as he ought to have been, hemerely said he had caught cold by being out too late in theevening.

'You'll never be able to see your sister, if you don't take care ofyourself,' said I, a little provoked at the circumstance on heraccount, instead of commiserating him.

'I've seen her already,' said he, quietly.

'You've seen her!' cried I, in astonishment.

'Yes.' And then he told me what considerations had impelled him tomake the venture, and with what precautions he had made it.

'And how was she?' I eagerly asked.

'As usual,' was the brief though sad reply.

'As usual - that is, far from happy and far from strong.'

'She is not positively ill,' returned he; 'and she will recover herspirits in a while, I have no doubt - but so many trials have beenalmost too much for her. How threatening those clouds look,'continued he, turning towards the window. 'We shall have thunder-showers before night, I imagine, and they are just in the midst ofstacking my corn. Have you got yours all in yet?'

'No. And, Lawrence, did she - did your sister mention me?'

'She asked if I had seen you lately.'

'And what else did she say?'

'I cannot tell you all she said,' replied he, with a slight smile;'for we talked a good deal, though my stay was but short; but ourconversation was chiefly on the subject of her intended departure,which I begged her to delay till I was better able to assist her inher search after another home.'

'But did she say no more about me?'

'She did not say much about you, Markham. I should not haveencouraged her to do so, had she been inclined; but happily she wasnot: she only asked a few questions concerning you, and seemedsatisfied with my brief answers, wherein she showed herself wiserthan her friend; and I may tell you, too, that she seemed to be farmore anxious lest you should think too much of her, than lest youshould forget her.'

'She was right.'

'But I fear your anxiety is quite the other way respecting her.'

'No, it is not: I wish her to be happy; but I don't wish her toforget me altogether. She knows it is impossible that I shouldforget her; and she is right to wish me not to remember her toowell. I should not desire her to regret me too deeply; but I canscarcely imagine she will make herself very unhappy about me,because I know I am not worthy of it, except in my appreciation ofher.'

'You are neither of you worthy of a broken heart, - nor of all thesighs, and tears, and sorrowful thoughts that have been, and I fearwill be, wasted upon you both; but, at present, each has a moreexalted opinion of the other than, I fear, he or she deserves; andmy sister's feelings are naturally full as keen as yours, and Ibelieve more constant; but she has the good sense and fortitude tostrive against them in this particular; and I trust she will notrest till she has entirely weaned her thoughts - ' he hesitated.

'From me,' said I.

'And I wish you would make the like exertions,' continued he.

'Did she tell you that that was her intention?'

'No; the question was not broached between us: there was nonecessity for it, for I had no doubt that such was herdetermination.'

'To forget me?'

'Yes, Markham! Why not?'

'Oh, well!' was my only audible reply; but I internally answered, -'No, Lawrence, you're wrong there: she is not determined to forgetme. It would be wrong to forget one so deeply and fondly devotedto her, who can so thoroughly appreciate her excellencies, andsympathise with all her thoughts, as I can do, and it would bewrong in me to forget so excellent and divine a piece of God'screation as she, when I have once so truly loved and known her.'But I said no more to him on that subject. I instantly started anew topic of conversation, and soon took leave of my companion,with a feeling of less cordiality towards him than usual. PerhapsI had no right to be annoyed at him, but I was so nevertheless.

In little more than a week after this I met him returning from avisit to the Wilsons'; and I now resolved to do him a good turn,though at the expense of his feelings, and perhaps at the risk ofincurring that displeasure which is so commonly the reward of thosewho give disagreeable information, or tender their advice unasked.In this, believe me, I was actuated by no motives of revenge forthe occasional annoyances I had lately sustained from him, - noryet by any feeling of malevolent enmity towards Miss Wilson, butpurely by the fact that I could not endure that such a woman shouldbe Mrs. Huntingdon's sister, and that, as well for his own sake asfor hers, I could not bear to think of his being deceived into aunion with one so unworthy of him, and so utterly unfitted to bethe partner of his quiet home, and the companion of his life. Hehad had uncomfortable suspicions on that head himself, I imagined;but such was his inexperience, and such were the lady's powers ofattraction, and her skill in bringing them to bear upon his youngimagination, that they had not disturbed him long; and I believethe only effectual causes of the vacillating indecision that hadpreserved him hitherto from making an actual declaration of love,was the consideration of her connections, and especially of hermother, whom he could not abide. Had they lived at a distance, hemight have surmounted the objection, but within two or three milesof Woodford it was really no light matter.

'You've been to call on the Wilsons, Lawrence,' said I, as I walkedbeside his pony.

'Yes,' replied he, slightly averting his face: 'I thought it butcivil to take the first opportunity of returning their kindattentions, since they have been so very particular and constant intheir inquiries throughout the whole course of my illness.'

'It's all Miss Wilson's doing.'

'And if it is,' returned he, with a very perceptible blush, 'isthat any reason why I should not make a suitable acknowledgment?'

'It is a reason why you should not make the acknowledgment shelooks for.'

'Let us drop that subject if you please,' said he, in evidentdispleasure.

'No, Lawrence, with your leave we'll continue it a while longer;and I'll tell you something, now we're about it, which you maybelieve or not as you choose - only please to remember that it isnot my custom to speak falsely, and that in this case I can have nomotive for misrepresenting the truth - '

'Well, Markham, what now?'

'Miss Wilson hates your sister. It may be natural enough that, inher ignorance of the relationship, she should feel some degree ofenmity against her, but no good or amiable woman would be capableof evincing that bitter, cold-blooded, designing malice towards afancied rival that I have observed in her.'

'Markham!'

'Yes - and it is my belief that Eliza Millward and she, if not thevery originators of the slanderous reports that have beenpropagated, were designedly the encouragers and chief disseminatorsof them. She was not desirous to mix up your name in the matter,of course, but her delight was, and still is, to blacken yoursister's character to the utmost of her power, without risking toogreatly the exposure of her own malevolence!'

'I cannot believe it,' interrupted my companion, his face burningwith indignation.

'Well, as I cannot prove it, I must content myself with assertingthat it is so to the best of my belief; but as you would notwillingly marry Miss Wilson if it were so, you will do well to becautious, till you have proved it to be otherwise.'

'I never told you, Markham, that I intended to marry Miss Wilson,'said he, proudly.

'No, but whether you do or not, she intends to marry you.'

'Did she tell you so?'

'No, but - '

'Then you have no right to make such an assertion respecting her.'He slightly quickened his pony's pace, but I laid my hand on itsmane, determined he should not leave me yet.

'Wait a moment, Lawrence, and let me explain myself; and don't beso very - I don't know what to call it - inaccessible as you are. -I know what you think of Jane Wilson; and I believe I know how faryou are mistaken in your opinion: you think she is singularlycharming, elegant, sensible, and refined: you are not aware thatshe is selfish, cold-hearted, ambitious, artful, shallow-minded - '

'Enough, Markham - enough!'

'No; let me finish:- you don't know that, if you married her, yourhome would be rayless and comfortless; and it would break yourheart at last to find yourself united to one so wholly incapable ofsharing your tastes, feelings, and ideas - so utterly destitute ofsensibility, good feeling, and true nobility of soul.'

'Have you done?' asked my companion quietly.

'Yes; - I know you hate me for my impertinence, but I don't care ifit only conduces to preserve you from that fatal mistake.'

'Well!' returned he, with a rather wintry smile - 'I'm glad youhave overcome or forgotten your own afflictions so far as to beable to study so deeply the affairs of others, and trouble yourhead so unnecessarily about the fancied or possible calamities oftheir future life.'

We parted - somewhat coldly again: but still we did not cease tobe friends; and my well-meant warning, though it might have beenmore judiciously delivered, as well as more thankfully received,was not wholly unproductive of the desired effect: his visit tothe Wilsons was not repeated, and though, in our subsequentinterviews, he never mentioned her name to me, nor I to him, - Ihave reason to believe he pondered my words in his mind, eagerlythough covertly sought information respecting the fair lady fromother quarters, secretly compared my character of her with what hehad himself observed and what he heard from others, and finallycame to the conclusion that, all things considered, she had muchbetter remain Miss Wilson of Ryecote Farm than be transmuted intoMrs. Lawrence of Woodford Hall. I believe, too, that he soonlearned to contemplate with secret amazement his formerpredilection, and to congratulate himself on the lucky escape hehad made; but he never confessed it to me, or hinted one word ofacknowledgment for the part I had had in his deliverance, but thiswas not surprising to any one that knew him as I did.

As for Jane Wilson, she, of course, was disappointed and embitteredby the sudden cold neglect and ultimate desertion of her formeradmirer. Had I done wrong to blight her cherished hopes? I thinknot; and certainly my conscience has never accused me, from thatday to this, of any evil design in the matter.