“That is a mistake at starting, begging your worship’s pardon.  Why, the very sight of you might startle her into her grave.  Nay, you’ll give me the money—­for mine is all in the savings bank—­and I shall go for her myself.  I shall tell her squire is longing for her, and that I’m to be here for fear she might feel strange.  She always liked me, poor soul.  I shall get her safe here, you needn’t fear for that.  But when she is here”—­the chin rested on the hand again—­“well, the doctor must forbid visitors.  Miss Grace must be told not to write.  Every newspaper must be read before she is allowed to see it.  And, squire, you will be very kind to her when you are in her company; but we must manage, somehow or other, so that you can keep out of her way.”

“What for, in heaven’s name?”

“Sir, we shall have to lie from morn to night; and you will be a bungler at that, saving your presence.  If there’s a servant left in the house who knows, I’d give that servant a present, and part with her before Mrs. Little sets her foot in the house.”

“This sounds very sensible,” said Raby.  “I am a novice at lying.  But I shall cultivate the art for poor Edith’s sake.  I’m not a fanatic:  there is justifiable homicide, so why not justifiable facticide?”

“Raby,” said the doctor, “this young woman has said enough to show me that she is more fit to conduct this delicate undertaking than either you or I. Let us profit by the discovery, put our vanity in our pocket, and give her the command.  My dear, you see the importance, you see the difficulty; now will you undertake it?”

“I will, sir,” said Jael, firmly; “and I look to succeed, God willing.  I shall be in Wales this afternoon.”

“Well, but would you not be the better yourself for one day’s rest?”

“No, sir.  I’ve learned, with a sad heart, what one day may bring forth.  After that, I’m sworn never to throw away a day.  And, as for sitting down and thinking, ’tis the worst thing I can do.  I do thank God that in this, my own heavy trouble, I’m not tied to my sad thoughts, but can get about, and do a little of good for Raby House.  Do what I will, ’tis but giving them back one pig out of their own farrow; for we owe all we have to them.”

With this she retired to prepare for her journey, leaving both the gentlemen lost in admiration of her simple virtues, and the clear intelligence she had shown them in few words.

She traveled into Wales that very day, and many a burst of bitter grief she had all by herself in the train.

At six P.M. she stood before Mrs. Little with a smiling countenance.  Mrs. Little welcomed her with some little pleasure and much surprise.

“Good news, madam,” said Jael.  “Squire Raby has sent me to bring you to Raby Hall.  He wanted to come himself, but I would not let him.”

“That is good news,” said Mrs. Little languidly.  “Now I shall die at peace with my brother—­at peace with all mankind, I hope.”