‘You have sometimes been ill, Josiah, as any of us may be,’ she said, ‘and that has been the cause.’

’There are different kinds of sickness.  There is sickness of the body, and sickness of the heart, and sickness of the spirit;—­and then there is sickness of the mind, the worst of all.’

‘With you, Josiah, it has chiefly been the first.’

’With me, Mary, it has been all of them—­every one!  My spirit is broken, my mind has not been able to keep its even tenor amidst the ruins.  But I will strive.  I will strive.  I will strive still.  And if God helps me, I will prevail.’  Then he took up his hat and cloak, and went forth among the lanes; and on this occasion his wife was glad that he should go alone.

This occurred a day or two before Christmas, and Mrs Crawley during those days said nothing more to her husband on the subject which he had so unexpectedly discussed.  She asked him no questions about the money, or as to the possibility of his exercising his memory, nor did she counsel him to plead that the false excuses given by him for the possession of the cheque had been occasioned by the sad slip to which sorrow had in those days subjected his memory and his intellect.  But the matter had always been on her mind.  Might it not be her paramount duty to do something of this at the present moment?  Might it not be that his acquittal or conviction would depend on what she might now learn from him?  It was clear to her that he was brighter in spirit since his encounter with the Proudies than he had ever been since the accusation had been first made against him.  And she knew well that his present mood would not be of long continuance.  He would fall again into his moody silent ways, and then the chance of learning aught from him would be past, and perhaps, for ever.

He performed the Christmas services with nothing of special despondency in his tone or manner, and his wife thought that she had never heard him give the sacrament with more impressive dignity.  After the service he stood awhile at the churchyard gate, and exchanged a word of courtesy as to the season with such of the families of the farmers as had stayed for the Lord’s Supper.

‘I waited at Framley for your reverence till arter six—­so I did,’ said farmer Mangle.

‘I kept the road, and walked the whole way,’ said Mr Crawley, ’I think I told you that I should not return to the mill.  But I am not the less obliged by your great kindness.’

‘Say nowt o’ that,’ said the farmer.  ’No doubt I had business at the mill—­lots to do at the mill.’  Nor did he think the fib he was telling was at all incompatible with the Holy Sacrament in which he had just taken part.