She remembered that George had told her she need not mention his having left Prior's Ash until she saw Thomas G.o.dolphin on Monday morning.

Therefore she did not reply to Isaac that she could not ask George because he was absent. "Isaac, I wish _you_ to tell me," she gravely rejoined. "Anything you know, or may think."

"I really know very little, Maria. Nothing, in fact, for certain.

Prior's Ash is saying that the Bank will not open again. The report is that some message of an unfavourable nature was telegraphed down last night by Mr. G.o.dolphin."

"Telegraphed to whom?" she asked eagerly.

"To Hurde. I cannot say whether there's any foundation for it. Old Hurde's as close as wax. No fear of his spreading it, if it has come; unless it lay in his business to do so. I walked out of church with him, but he did not say a syllable about it to me."

Maria sat a few minutes in silence. "If the Bank should not go on, Isaac--what then?"

"Why--then, of course it would not go on," was the very logical answer returned by Mr. Isaac.

"But what would be done, Isaac? How would it end?"

"Well--I suppose there'd be an official winding-up of affairs. Perhaps the Bank might be reopened afterwards on a smaller scale. I don't know."

"An official winding-up," repeated Maria, her sweet face turned earnestly on her brother's. "Do you mean bankruptcy?"

"Something of that sort."

A blank pause. "In bankruptcy, everything is sold, is it not? Would these things have to be sold?"--looking round upon the costly furniture.

"Things generally are sold in such a case," replied Isaac. "I don't know how it would be in this."

Evidently there was not much to be got out of Isaac. He either did not know, or he would not. Sitting a few minutes longer, he departed--afraid, possibly, how far Maria's questions might extend. Not long had he been gone, when boisterous steps were heard leaping up the stairs, and Reginald Hastings--noisy, impetuous Reginald--came in. He threw his arms round Maria, and kissed her heartily. Maria spoke reproachfully.

"At home since yesterday morning, and not have come to see me before!"

she exclaimed.

"They wouldn't let me come yesterday," bluntly replied Reginald. "They thought you'd be all down in the mouth with this bother, and would not care to see folks. Another thing, I was in hot water with them."

A faint smile crossed Maria's lips. She could not remember the time when Reginald had _not_ come home to plunge into hot water with the ruling powers at the Rectory. "What was the matter?" she asked.

"Well, it was the old grievance about my bringing home no traps. Things do melt on a voyage somehow--and what with one outlet and another for your pay, it's of no use trying to keep square. I left the ship, too, and came back in another. I say, where's Meta? Gone out? I should have come here as soon as dinner was over, only Rose kept me. I am going to Grace's to tea. How is George G.o.dolphin? He is out, too?"

"He is well," replied Maria, pa.s.sing over the other question. "What stay shall you make at home, Reginald?"

"Not long, if I know it. There's a fellow in London looking out for a ship for me. I thought to go up and pa.s.s for second mate, but I don't suppose I shall now. It's as gloomy as ditch-water this time at home.

They are all regularly cut up about the business here. Will the Bank go on again, Maria?"

"I don't know anything about it, Reginald. I wish I did know."

"I say, Maria," added the thoughtless fellow, lowering his voice, "there's no truth, I suppose, in what Prior's Ash is saying about George G.o.dolphin?"

"What is Prior's Ash saying?" returned Maria.

"Ugly things," answered Reginald. "I heard something about--about swindling."

"About swindling!"

"Swindling, or forgery, or some queer thing of that sort. I wouldn't listen to it."

Maria grew cold. "Tell me what you heard, Reginald--as well as you can remember," she said, her unnatural calmness deceiving Reginald, and cloaking all too well her mental agony.

"Tales are going about that there's something wrong with George. That he has not been doing things on the square. A bankruptcy's not much, they say, except to the creditors; it can be got over: but if there's anything worse--why, the question is, will he get over it?"

Maria's heart beat on as if it would burst its bounds: her blood was fiercely coursing through her veins. A few moments of struggle, and then she spoke, still with unnatural calmness.

"It is not likely, Reginald, that such a thing could be true."

"Of course it is not," said Reginald, with impetuous indignation. "If I had thought it was true, I should not have asked you about it, Maria.

Why, that cla.s.s of people have to stand in a dock and be tried, and get imprisoned, and transported, and all the rest of it! That's just like Prior's Ash! If it gets hold of the story to-day that I have come home without my sea-chest, to-morrow it will be saying that I have come home without my head. George G.o.dolphin's a jolly good fellow, and I hope he'll turn round on the lot. Many a time he has helped me out of a hole that I didn't dare tell any one else of; and I wish he may come triumphantly out of this!"

Reginald talked on, but Maria heard him not. An awful fear had been aroused within her. Entire as was her trust in her husband's honour, improbable as the uncertain accusation was, the terrible fear that something or other might be wrong took possession of her, and turned her heart to sickness.

"I bought Meta a stuffed monkey out there," continued Reginald, jerking his head to indicate some remote quarter of his travels. "I thought you'd not like me to bring home a live one for her--even if the skipper had allowed it to come in the ship. I came across a stuffed one cheap, and bought it."

Maria roused herself to smile. "Have you brought it to Prior's Ash?"

"Well--no," confessed Reginald, coming down a tone or two. "The fact is, it went with the rest of my things. I'll get her something better next voyage. And now I'm off, Maria, for Grace's tea will be ready. Remember me to George G.o.dolphin. I'll come in and see him to-morrow."

With a commotion, equal to that he had made in ascending, Reginald clattered down, and Maria saw him and his not too good sailor's jacket go swaying up the street towards her sister's. It was the only jacket of any sort Mr. Reginald possessed: and the only one he was likely to possess, until he could learn to keep himself and his clothes in better order.

Maria, with the new fear at her heart--which, strive as she might to thrust it indignantly from her, to ignore it, to reason herself out of it, _would_ continue to be a fear, and a very horrible one--remained alone for the rest of the day. Just before bedtime, Margery came to her.

"I have been turning it over in my mind, ma'am, and have come to the conclusion that it might be as well if I do go to meet my sister. She's always on the groan, it's true: but maybe she _is_ bad, and we might never have a chance of seeing each other again. So I think I'll go."

"Very well," said Maria. "Harriet can attend to the child. What time in the morning must you be away, Margery?"

"By half-past six out of here," answered Margery. "The train goes five minutes before seven. Could you let me have a little money, please, ma'am? I suppose I must give her a pound or two."

Maria felt startled at the request. How was she to comply with it? "I have no money, Margery," said she, her heart beating. "At least, I have very little. Too little to be of much use to you."

"Then that stops it," returned Margery with her abrupt freedom. "It's of no good for me to think of going without money."

"Have you none by you?" asked Maria. "It is a pity you must be away before the Bank opens in the morning."

Before the Bank opens! Was it spoken in thoughtlessness? Or did she merely mean to indicate the hour of Thomas G.o.dolphin's arrival?

"What I have by me isn't much," said Margery. "A few shillings or so. It might take me there and bring me back again: but Selina will look glum if I don't give her something."

In Maria's purse there remained the sovereign and seven shillings which George had seen there. She gave the sovereign to Margery, who could, if she chose, give it to her sister. Maria suggested that more could be sent to her by post-office order. Margery's savings, what the Brays had spared of them, and a small legacy left her by her former mistress, Mrs.

G.o.dolphin, were in George's hands. Would she ever see them? It was a question to be solved.

To her bed again to pa.s.s another night such as the last. As the last?

Had this night been only as the last, it might have been more calmly borne. The coldness, the sleeplessness, the trouble and pain would have been there; but not the sharp agony, the awful dread she scarcely knew of what, arising from the incautious words of Reginald. It is only by comparison that we can form a true estimate of what is bad, what good.

Maria G.o.dolphin would have said the night before, that it was impossible for any to be worse than that: _now_ she looked back upon it, and envied it by comparison. There had been the sense of the humiliation, the disgrace arising from an unfortunate commercial crisis in their affairs; but the worse dread which had come to her now was not so much as dreamt of. Shivering as one in mortal coldness, lay Maria, her brain alone burning, her mouth dry, her throat parched. When, oh when would the night be gone!