Bessie remained mute.
“What message shall I take back, Mrs. Byass?”
“Tell him if he dares to leave the house, I’ll go to mother’s the first thing to-morrow, and let them know how he’s treating me.”
“Tell her,” was Mr. Byass’s reply, “that I don’t see what it matters to her whether I’m at home or away. And tell her she’s a cruel wife to me.”
Something like the sound of a snivel came out of the darkness as he concluded. Jane, in reporting his speech, added that she thought he was shedding tears. Thereupon Bessie gave a sob, quite in earnest.
“So am I,” she said, chokingly. “Go and tell him, Jane.”
“Mr. Byass, Mrs. Byass is crying,” whispered Jane at the parlour-door. “Don’t you think you’d better go downstairs?”
Hearing a movement, she ran to be out of the way. Samuel left the dark room, and with slow step descended to the kitchen. Then Jane knew that it was all right, and
