CHAPTER LII.
"THE END CROWNS ALL, AND THAT IS YET TO COME."
And what of Angela Vivian, the elder? Angela, whose heart was said to be buried in a grave?
After Hugo Luttrell's death, she remained for some time at Netherglen, sitting a great deal in Mrs. Luttrell's room and trying to resume the daughter-like ways which had grown so natural to her. But she was driven slowly to perceive that she was by no means necessary to Mrs. Luttrell's happiness. Mrs. Luttrell loved her still, but her heart had gone out vehemently to Brian and Elizabeth; and when either of them was within call she wanted nothing else. Brian and Elizabeth would gladly have kept Angela with them for evermore, but it seemed to her that her duty lay now rather with her brother than with those who were, after all, of no kith or kin to her. She returned, therefore, to Rupert's house in Kensington, and lived there until his marriage took place.
She was sorry for one thing—that the friendship between herself and Percival Heron seemed to be broken. The words which she had spoken to him before Hugo's death had evidently made a very strong impression upon Percival's mind. He looked guilty and uncomfortable when he spoke to her; his manner became unusually abrupt, and at last she noticed that, if she happened to come into a room which he occupied, he immediately made an excuse for leaving it. She had very few opportunities of seeing him at all; but every time she met him, his avoidance of her became so marked that she was hurt and grieved by it. But she could not do anything to mend matters; and so she waited and was silent.
She heard, on her return to Kensington, that he had been a great deal to her brother's house, and had done much for Rupert's comfort. But as soon as he knew that she intended to stay in London he began to discontinue his visits. It was very evident that he had determined to see as little of her as possible. And, by-and-bye, he never came at all. For full three months before Kitty's engagement to Rupert Percival did not appear at the pleasant house in Kensington.
Angela was sitting alone, however, one day when he was announced. He came in, glanced round with a vexed and irritated air, and made some sort of apology.
"I came to see Rupert. I thought that you were away," he said.
"And, therefore, you came?" she said, with a little smile. "It was very good of you to come when you thought he would be lonely."
"I did not mean that exactly."