verdict, that too strong a taint was on his character for him ever to
labour in Manchester again. He remembered the manner in which some one suspected
of having been a convict was shunned by masters and men, when he had
accidentally met with work in their foundry; the recollection smote him now, how
he himself had thought it did not become an honest upright man to associate with
one who had been a prisoner. He could not choose but think on that poor humble
being, with his downcast conscious look; hunted out of the workshop, where he
had sought to earn an honest livelihood, by the looks, and half-spoken words,
and the black silence of repugnance (worse than words to bear), that met him on
all sides.
    Jem felt that his own character had been attainted; and that to many it
might still appear suspicious. He knew that he could convince the world, by a
future as blameless as his past had been, that he was innocent. But at the same
time he saw that he must have patience, and nerve himself for some trials; and
the sooner these were undergone, the sooner he was aware of the place he held in
men's estimation, the better. He longed to have presented himself once more at
the foundry; and then the reality would drive away the pictures that would
(unbidden) come, of a shunned man, eyed askance by all, and driven forth to
shape out some new career.
    I said every reason »but one« inclined Jem to hasten Mary's return as soon
as she was sufficiently convalescent. That one was the meeting which awaited her
at home.
    Turn it over as Jem would, he could not decide what was the best course to
pursue. He could compel himself to any line of conduct that his reason and his
sense of right told him to be desirable; but they did not tell him it was
desirable to speak to Mary, in her tender state of mind and body, of her father.
How much would be implied by the mere mention of his name! Speak it as calmly,
and as indifferently as he might, he could not avoid expressing some
consciousness of the terrible knowledge she possessed.
    She, for her part, was softer and gentler than she had even been in her
gentlest mood; since her illness, her motions, her glances, her voice were all
tender in their languor. It seemed almost a trouble to her to break the silence
with the low sounds of her own sweet voice, and her words fell sparingly on
Jem's greedy, listening