his nerves yet were so unstrung, and her questions so evidently harassed
him, that she only once made that attempt to satisfy her own
bewilderment, and smiled as if contented when he said, after a long
pause: "Patience yet, my child; let me get a little stronger. You see
Mr. Darrell will not suffer me to talk with him on matters that must be
discussed with him before I go; and then--and then--Patience till then,
Sophhy."

Neither George nor his wife gave her any clue to the inquiries that
preyed upon her mind. The latter, a kind, excellent woman, meekly
devoted to her husband, either was, or affected to be, in ignorance of
the causes that had led. Waife to Fawley, save very generally that
Darrell had once wronged him by an erring judgment, and had hastened to
efface that wrong. And then she kissed Sophy fondly, and told her that
brighter days were in store for the old man and herself. George said
with more authority--the authority of the priest: "Ask no questions.
Time, that solves all riddles, is hurrying on, and Heaven directs its
movements."

Her very heart was shut up, except where it could gush forth--nor even
then with full tide--in letters to Lady Montfort. Caroline had heard
from George's wife, with intense emotion, that Sophy was summoned to
Darrell's house, the gravity of Waife's illness being considerately
suppressed. Lady Montfort could but suppose that Darrell's convictions
had been shaken--his resolutions softened; that he sought an excuse to
see Sophy, and judge of her himself. Under this impression, in parting
with her young charge, Caroline besought Sophy to write to her constantly
and frankly. Sophy felt all inexpressible relief in this correspondence.
But Lady Montfort in her replies was not more communicative than Waife or
the Morleys; only she seemed more thoughtfully anxious that Sophy should