No!  I am too respectable a woman to mention what he said when he recovered himself.  My pen is the pen of a member of the rector’s congregation, and a subscriber to the “Wednesday Lectures on Justification by Faith”—­how can you expect me to employ it in writing bad language?  Suppose, for yourself, the raging, swearing frenzy of the lowest ruffian in England, and let us get on together, as fast as may be, to the way in which it all ended.

It ended, as you probably guess by this time, in his insisting on securing his own safety by shutting her up.

I tried to set things right.  I told him that she had merely repeated, like a parrot, the words she had heard me say and that she knew no particulars whatever, because I had mentioned none.  I explained that she had affected, out of crazy spite against him, to know what she really did not know—­that she only wanted to threaten him and aggravate him for speaking to her as he had just spoken—­and that my unlucky words gave her just the chance of doing mischief of which she was in search.  I referred him to other queer ways of hers, and to his own experience of the vagaries of half-witted people—­it was all to no purpose—­he would not believe me on my oath—­he was absolutely certain I had betrayed the whole Secret.  In short, he would hear of nothing but shutting her up.

Under these circumstances, I did my duty as a mother.  “No pauper Asylum,” I said, “I won’t have her put in a pauper Asylum.  A Private Establishment, if you please.  I have my feelings as a mother, and my character to preserve in the town, and I will submit to nothing but a Private Establishment, of the sort which my genteel neighbours would choose for afflicted relatives of their own.”  Those were my words.  It is gratifying to me to reflect that I did my duty.  Though never overfond of my late daughter, I had a proper pride about her.  No pauper stain—­thanks to my firmness and resolution—­ever rested on my child.

Having carried my point (which I did the more easily, in consequence of the facilities offered by private Asylums), I could not refuse to admit that there were certain advantages gained by shutting her up.  In the first place, she was taken excellent care of—­being treated (as I took care to mention in the town) on the footing of a lady.  In the second place, she was kept away from Welmingham, where she might have set people suspecting and inquiring, by repeating my own incautious words.

The only drawback of putting her under restraint was a very slight one.  We merely turned her empty boast about knowing the Secret into a fixed delusion.  Having first spoken in sheer crazy spitefulness against the man who had offended her, she was cunning enough to see that she had seriously frightened him, and sharp enough afterwards to discover that he was concerned in shutting her up.  The consequence was she flamed out into a perfect frenzy of passion against him, going to the Asylum, and the first words she said to the nurses, after they had quieted her, were, that she was put in confinement for knowing his Secret, and that she meant to open her lips and ruin him, when the right time came.