Chapter 11

SANDAL AND SANDAL.

"Time will discover every thing; it is a babbler, and speaks even
when no question is put."

"Run, spindles! Run, and weave the threads of doom."

Next morning very early, Stephen had a letter from Charlotte. He was
sitting at breakfast with Ducie when the rector's boy brought it; and it
came, as great events generally come, without any premonition or
heralding circumstance. Ducie was pouring out coffee; and she went on
with her employment, thinking, not of the letter Stephen was opening,
but of the malt, and of the condition of the brewing-boiler. An angry
exclamation from Stephen made her lift her eyes to his face. "My word,
Stephen, you are put out! What's to do?"

"Julius has turned Mrs. Sandal and Charlotte from house and home,
yesterday afternoon. They are at the rectory. I am going, mother."

"Stop a moment, Steve. This is now my affair."

Stephen looked at his mother with amazement. Her countenance, her voice,
her whole manner, had suddenly changed. An expression of angry purpose
was in her wide-open eyes and firm mouth, as she asked, "Can you or
Jamie, or any of the men, drive me to Kendal?"

"To-day?"

"I want to leave within an hour."

"The rain down-pours; and it is like to be worse yet, if the wind does
not change."

"If it were ten times worse, I must to Kendal. I am much to blame that I
have let weather stop me so far and so long. While Dame Nature was busy
about her affairs, I should have been minding mine. Deary me, deary me!"

"If you are for Kendal, then I will drive. The cart-road down the fell
is too bad to trust you with any one but myself. Can we stop a moment at
the rectory on our road?"

"We can stop a goodish bit. I have a deal to say to the parson. Have the
tax-cart ready in half an hour; for there will be no betterness in the
weather until the moon--God bless her!--is full round; and things are
past waiting for now."

In twenty minutes Ducie was ready. The large cloak and hood of the
Daleswoman wrapped her close. She was almost indistinguishable in its
folds. The rector met her with a little irritation. It was very early to
be disturbed, and he thought her visit would refer, doubtless, to some
trivial right between her son and Charlotte Sandal; besides which, he
had made up his mind to discuss the Sandal affairs with no one.

But Ducie had spoken but a few moments before a remarkable change took
place in his manner. He was bending eagerly forward, listening to her
half-whispered words with the greatest interest and amazement. As she
proceeded, he could scarcely control his