Few people in such a situation could have acted consistently as though nothing had happened.  But Mr. Juxon’s extremely reticent nature found it easy to bury other people’s important secrets at least as deeply as he buried the harmless details of his own honest life.  Not a hair of his smooth head was ruffled, not a line of his square manly face was disturbed.  He looked and acted precisely as he had looked and acted before.  His butler remarked that he ate a little less heartily of late, and that on one evening, as has been recorded, the squire forgot to dress for dinner.  But the butler in his day had seen greater eccentricities than these; he had the greatest admiration for Mr. Juxon and was not inclined to cavil at small things.  A real gentleman, of the good sort, who dressed for dinner when he was alone, who never took too much wine, who never bullied the servants nor quarrelled unjustly with the bills, was, as the butler expressed it, “not to be sneezed at, on no account.”  The place was a little dull, but the functionary was well stricken in years and did not like hard work.  Mr. Juxon seemed to be conscious that as he never had visitors at the Hall and as there were consequently no “tips,” his staff was entitled to an occasional fee, which he presented always with great regularity, and which had the desired effect.  He was a generous man as well as a just.

The traffic in roses and orchids and new books continued as usual between the Hall and the cottage, and for many weeks nothing extraordinary occurred.  Mrs. Ambrose and Mrs. Goddard met frequently, and the only difference to be observed in the manner of the former was that she mentioned John Short very often, and every time she mentioned him she fixed her grey eyes sternly upon Mrs. Goddard, who however did not notice the scrutiny, or, if she did, was not in the least disturbed by it.  For a long time Mrs. Ambrose entertained a feeble intention of addressing Mrs. Goddard directly upon the subject of John’s affections, but the longer she put off doing so, the harder it seemed to do it.  Mrs. Ambrose had great faith in the sternness of her eye under certain circumstances, and seeing that Mrs. Goddard never winced, she gradually fell into the belief that John had been the more to blame, if there was any blame in the matter.  She had indeed succeeded in the first instance, by methods of her own which have been heretofore detailed, in extracting a sort of reluctant admission from her husband; but since that day he had proved obdurate to all entreaty.  Once only he had said with considerable impatience that John was a very silly boy, and was much better engaged with his books at college than in running after Mrs. Goddard.  That was all, and gradually as the regular and methodical life at the vicarage effaced the memory of the doings at Christmas time, the good Mrs. Ambrose forgot that anything unpleasant had ever occurred.  There was no disturbance of the existing relations and everything went on as before