Now and then he cried to God inarticulately; that dumb,
incoherent cry of the stricken spirit to the only Saviour.
CHAPTER IX.
SAD DAYS
There was no doubt in Upton, when the people saw their rector again,
that he knew full well the calamity that had befallen him. No one
ventured to speak to him of it; but their very silence was a measure of
the gravity of his trouble. His friend Warden told him more accurately
than any one else could have done, how it had gradually come about, and
what remonstrances he had made both to Mrs. Bolton and Sophy. Mr.
Chantrey was impatient to get into his own house, where he could do what
his aunt had refused to do, and where he could shield his wife from all
temptation to yield to the craving for stimulants in any form. When they
were at home once more, with their little son with them, filling up her
time and thoughts, all would be well again.
But he did not know the force of the habit she had fallen into. At first
there were a few gleams of hope and thankfulness during the pleasant
days of summer, while it was a new thing for Sophy to have her husband
and child with her.
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