Aldous’s reply cost him a prodigal amount of pain and difficulty.

“I will do anything in the world to make these days less of a burden to you.  You can hardly imagine that it is not grievous to me to think of any trouble of yours as being made worse by my being with you.  But still I understand.  One thing only I ask—­that you should not imagine the difference between us greater than it is.  The two letters you enclose have given me much to ponder.  If only the course of the trial enables me with an honest heart to throw myself into your crusade of mercy, with what joy shall I come and ask you to lead me, and to forgive my own slower sense and pity!

“I should like you to know that Hallin is very much inclined to agree with you, to think that the whole affair was a ‘scrimmage,’ and that Hurd at least ought to be reprieved.  He would have come to talk it over with you himself, but that Clarke forbids him anything that interests or excites him for the present.  He has been very ill and suffering for the last fortnight, and, as you know, when these attacks come on we try to keep everything from him that could pain or agitate him.  But I see that this whole affair is very much on his mind, in spite of my efforts.

“...  Oh, my darling!  I am writing late at night, with your letter open before me and your picture close to my hand.  So many things rise in my mind to say to you.  There will come a time—­there must!—­when I may pour them all out.  Meanwhile, amid all jars and frets, remember this, that I have loved you better each day since first we met.

“I will not come to Mellor then for a little while.  My election, little heart as I have for it, will fill up the week.  The nomination-day is fixed for Thursday and the polling for Monday.”

Marcella read the letter with a confusion of feeling so great as to be in itself monstrous and demoralising.  Was she never to be simple, to see her way clearly again?

As for him, as he rode about the lanes and beechwoods in the days that followed, alone often with that nature for which all such temperaments as Aldous Raeburn’s have so secret and so observant an affection, he was perpetually occupied with this difficulty which had arisen between Marcella and himself, turning it over and over in the quiet of the morning, before the turmoil of the day began.

He had followed the whole case before the magistrates with the most scrupulous care.  And since then, he had twice run across the Widrington solicitor for the defence, who was now instructing Wharton.  This man, although a strong Radical, and employed generally by his own side, saw no objection at all to letting Lord Maxwell’s heir and representative understand how in his opinion the case was going.  Aldous Raeburn was a person whom everybody respected; confidences were safe with him; and he was himself deeply interested in the affair.  The Raeburns being the Raeburns, with all that that implied for