“There is no extent of mere weakness, Clara,” said Mr. Murdstone in reply, “that can have the least weight with me. You lose breath.”

“Pray let us be friends,” said my mother, “I couldn’t live under coldness or unkindness. I am so sorry. I have a great many defects, I know, and it’s very good of you, Edward, with your strength of mind, to endeavour to correct them for me. Jane, I don’t object to anything. I should be quite brokenhearted if you thought of leaving⁠—” My mother was too much overcome to go on.

“Jane Murdstone,” said Mr. Murdstone to his sister, “any harsh words between us are, I hope, uncommon. It is not my fault that so unusual an occurrence has taken place tonight. I was betrayed into it by another. Nor is it your fault. You were betrayed into it by another. Let us both try to forget it. And as this,” he added, after these magnanimous words, “is not a fit scene for the boy⁠—David, go to bed!”