"I doan' keer. I doan' keer what 'appens to mae. What wae did--what
wae did--lies between him and mae."
"Did he tell you he'd marry you, Essy?"
Essy sobbed for answer.
"He didn't? Is he going to marry you?"
"'Tisn' likely 'e'll marry mae. An' I'll not force him."
"You think, perhaps, it doesn't matter?"
She shook her head in utter helplessness.
"Come, make a clean breast of it."
Then the storm burst. She turned her tormented face to him.
"A clane breast, yo' call it? I s'all mak' naw clane breasts, Mr.
Cartaret, to yo' or anybody. I'll 'ave nawbody meddlin' between him
an' mae!"
"Then," said the Vicar, "I wash my hands of you."
But he said it to an empty room. Essy had left him.
* * * * *
In the outer room the three sisters sat silent and motionless. Their
faces were turned toward the closed door of the study. They were
listening to the sounds that went on behind it. The burden of Essy
hung heavy over them.
The study door opened and shut. Then the kitchen door.
"Poor Essy," said Gwenda.
"Poor Essy," said Alice. She was sorry for Essy now. She could afford
to be sorry for her.
Mary said nothing, and from her silence you could not tell what she
was thinking.
The long day dragged on to prayer time.
The burden of Essy hung heavy over the whole house.
* * * * *
That night, at a quarter to ten, fifteen minutes before prayer time,
Gwenda came to her father in his study.
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