They were all kind—­all honestly anxious to do their duty in aiding the atonement of old Jonathan.  Their faces, their voices, their gestures, revealed an almost painful effort to make her appear at ease.  Yet in spite of their irreproachable intentions, each one of them was perfectly aware that the visit was very far from being a success.  They admired her sincerely, but with the exception of Gay, who was bothered by few moral prejudices, they were one and all nervously constrained in manner.  To Mr. Chamberlayne she represented merely an attractive object of charity; to Kesiah she appeared as an encroaching member of the inferior order; to Mrs. Gay she embodied the tragic disillusionment of her life.  In time they would either forget these first impressions or grow accustomed to them; but while she stood there, awkward and blushing, in the middle of the library, where old Jonathan had worked out his repentance, even the lawyer found his legal eloquence tripping confusedly on his tongue, and turned at last in sheer desperation to stare with a sensation of relief at the frowning countenance of Kesiah.  When, after a hesitating word of thanks, the girl held out her hand to Reuben, and they went away arm in arm, as they had come, a helpless glance passed from Jonathan to Mrs. Gay and from Mrs. Gay into vacancy.

“Like most eccentric bequests made in moments of great moral purpose, it was, of course, a mistake,” said the lawyer.  “Had Jonathan known the character of the miller, he would certainly have had no objection to Molly’s choice—­if she has, indeed, a serious fancy for the young man, which I doubt.  But in his day, we must remember, the Revercombs had given little promise of either intelligence or industry except in the mother.  Granting this,” he added thoughtfully, “it might be possible to have the conditions set aside, but not without laying bare a scandal which would cause great pain to sensitive natures—–­”

He glanced sympathetically at Mrs. Gay, who responded almost unconsciously to the emotional suggestion of his ideal of her.

“Oh, never that!  I could not bear that!” she exclaimed.

“The whole trouble comes of the insane way people arrange the future,” remarked Jonathan with irritation.  “He actually believed, I dare say, that he was assuring the girl’s happiness by that ridiculous document.  But for mother I’d fight the thing in the courts and then give Molly her share outright and let her marry the miller.”

The lawyer shook his head slowly, with his eyes on Mrs. Gay.  “Before all else we must consider your mother,” he answered.

For the first time Kesiah spoke.  “I am quite willing to take the girl when Reuben dies,” she said, “but why in the world did he put in that foolish clause about her living with Jonathan and myself?”