'All I can do, you may be
sure I will, and perhaps he will allow you to come to me, now and then, for
a short visit. You know I am only six miles away--little more than half an
hour's drive, and though I hate Bartram, and detest Silas--Yes, I _detest
Silas_,' she repeated in reply to my surprised gaze--'I _will_ call at
Bartram--that is, I say, if he allows me; for, you know, I haven't been
there for a quarter of a century; and though I never understood Silas, I
fancy he forgives no sins, whether of omission or commission.'
I wondered what old grudge could make my cousin judge Uncle Silas always
so hardly--I could not suppose it was justice. I had seen my hero indeed
lately so disrespectfully handled before my eyes, that he had, as idols
will, lost something of his sacredness. But as an article of faith, I still
cultivated my trust in his divinity, and dismissed every intruding doubt
with an exorcism, as a suggestion of the evil one. But I wronged Lady
Knollys in suspecting her of pique, or malice, or anything more than that
tendency to take strong views which some persons attribute to my sex.
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