'No; no. Why should all the world know it? Had she not told us we should not have known it. We should not have suspected it. Mr. Furnival, who understands these things;—he does not think her guilty.'
'But, Edith—the property!'
'Let her give that up—after a while; when all this has passed by. That man is not in want. It will not hurt him to be without it a little longer. It will be enough for her to do that when this trial shall be over.'
'But it is not hers. She cannot give it up. It belongs to her son,—or is thought to belong to him. It is not for us to be informers, Edith———'
'No, no; it is not for us to be informers. We must remember that.'
'Certainly. It is not for us to tell the story of her guilt; but her guilt will remain the same, will be acted over and over again every day, while the proceeds of the property go into the hands of Lucius Mason. It is that which is so terrible, Edith;—that her conscience should have been able to bear that load for the last twenty years! A deed done,—that admits of no restitution, may admit of repentance. We may leave that to the sinner and his conscience, hoping that he stands right with his Maker. But here, with her, there has been a continual theft going on from year to year,—which is still going on. While Lucius Mason holds a sod of Orley Farm, true repentance with her must be impossible. It seems so to me.' And Sir Peregrine shuddered at the doom which his own rectitude of mind and purpose forced him to pronounce.
'It is not she that has it,' said Mrs. Orme. 'It was not done for herself.'
'There is no difference in that,' said he sharply. 'All sin is selfish, and so was her sin in this. Her object was the aggrandizement of her own child; and when she could not accomplish that honestly, she did it by fraud, and—and—and———. Edith, my dear, you and I must look at this thing as it is. You must not let your kind heart make your eyes blind in a matter of such moment.'
'No, father; nor must the truth make our hearts cruel. Yon talk of restitution and repentance. Repentance is not the work of a day. How are we to say by what struggles her poor heart has been torn?'
'I do not judge her.'
'No, no; that is it. We may not judge her; may we? But we may assist her in her wretchedness. I have promised that I will do all I can to aid her. You will allow me to do so;—you will; will you not?' And she pressed his arm and looked up into his face, entreating him. Since first they two had known each other,
