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Updated: June 12, 2025
Her grounds for believing this were, first of all, the fact of Emily frequently uttering his name in her delirium, with words which seemed to refer to some mystery between them; then the circumstance of Mr. Dagworthy's having, shortly after, left a note at the house, with special injunctions to the servant that it should be given into Emily's own hands.
He knew nothing but that necessity; all else of consciousness was vague swimming horror. 'No, sir, was his reply, given with perfect firmness, 'I found no envelope. Dagworthy's coarse lips formed a smile, hard and cruel. He faced his clerk. 'Oh, you didn't? 'In which ledger did you leave it, sir? Hood asked, the dryness of his throat rendering speech more difficult as he proceeded.
Hood, in fact, murmured thanks, after a mere half glance at his daughter, and the three walked together to Dagworthy's house, the entrance to which was not fifty yards from where they were standing. The dwelling was neither large nor handsome, but it stood in a fine garden and had an air of solid well-being.
'Well, here it is, he had said, 'and we'll talk no more about it. She heard those words exactly as they were spoken, and she knew their tone was not natural; even at the time that had struck her, but her thought had not dwelt upon it. She almost forgot Dagworthy's presence; he and his threats were of small account in this shaking of the depths of her nature. She was awakened by his voice.
She was not censorious, she was not self-righteous; she spoke to no one of the convictions that ruled her, and to herself held them a mystery of holiness, a revelation of high things vouchsafed she knew not whence nor how. Suppose her to have been heart-free at this juncture of her fate, think you she would have found it a whit less impossible to save her father by becoming Dagworthy's wife.
Dagworthy's name she had spoken frequently, and with words which called to mind the sum of money her father had somehow procured. Mrs. Hood had no strength to face trials such as these. As long as her child's life seemed in danger, she strove with a mother's predominant instinct to defend it; but her powers failed as Emily passed out of peril.
Jessie Cartwright reflected much on Emily's slyness in keeping her affairs so secret. She was not as envious as she would have been but for a certain compact which she was determined should not if it lay in her power to prevent it be some day laughed away as a mere joke. And had she not received, on the very eve of Dagworthy's departure, a box of gloves, which could only come from one person?
She tried to picture her father returning as usual; human pity might have spoken even in Dagworthy's heart; or if not so, then he might have been induced to forbear by a hope of winning her gratitude. Very agony made her feel almost capable of rewarding such mercy.
As he was stirring the fire a servant announced instead of the father, the daughter. Jessie Cartwright appeared. 'Something amiss with your father? Dagworthy asked, shaking hands with her carelessly. 'Yes; I'm sorry to say he has such a very bad sore-throat that he couldn't possibly come. Oh, what an afternoon it is, to be sure! 'Why did you come? was Dagworthy's not very polite Inquiry.
When she reached the quarry it was quite dark at her approach she saw the shape of a man move away into the shadow of the quarried rock, and an unreasoning fear spurred her past the spot. Five minutes more and she was at Dagworthy's gate. She rang the door-bell. The servant told her that Mr. Dagworthy was at home; she declined to give her name, but said she must see him at once.
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