As wilful injurer to injured, she naturally showed small kindness to Lettice; and but for Keith, the girl would indeed have been solitary. His affection never varied; yet now and then the boy seemed constrained, and not fully himself; while before his mother he was more careful than ever to hide his feeling for Lettice.
Once upon a time Susanna, the parlour-maid, an old and tried servant, of weighty influence in the household, would have been entirely on Lettice's side; but Susanna, like Dr. Bryant, could not stand against the discovery of the bank-note in Lettice's box. The collapse of her trust was severe in proportion to its previous sturdiness. "Anything short of that!" she avowed to her confidante the cook, "and I'd have held out still. But bank-notes can't walk, nor open locked boxes; and that box, I know for certain, wasn't never left unlocked. I don't say Miss Lettice wasn't drove to it by some as ought to know better. She's had a deal to bear; but there's no manner of excuse for dishonesty. I wouldn't have believed, short of seeing; and when I did see, why, you might have knocked me down with a straw. And I'm sure, to see master's face, it just goes to my heart. He did think a lot of Miss Lettice, and no mistake. But, anyway, Miss Lettice took the money; more's the pity; and I'll never be certain of nobody again in this world!" Susanna ruled the kitchen view of matters.
Lettice had not now the consolation, which had been hers earlier, of enduring for the sake of Felix. Her present suffering bore no fruit of advantage for another; at least, so far as she could see. It may be that all undeserved pain, borne meekly for Christ's sake, does bring advantage to others: but this we cannot yet perceive.
Still, the trouble was permitted,—was the Divine Will for her. So much she could know with unquestioning knowledge. She had to bear, because the burden was laid upon her; she had to bear bravely, because by so doing she would please God. If she had done the thing she was accused of, she would have been required as a simple duty to take the blame patiently, deserving no praise whatever for the same. But "this" quiet endurance of hers, because it was endurance of unmerited blame, did deserve praise, being "acceptable with God." Lettice found consolation in the thought.
Others might look coldly and sternly; but her Heavenly Father saw, understood, and was pleased. He would set all right in time. He would clear away the cloud. He would establish her as blameless. Whether sooner or later, whether in this life or the next, the truth would be made manifest. Till then she would not murmur, but would put her trust in Him.
She wrote no word to Felix of what had happened, beyond the early intimation, which he had never so much as answered. Doubtless to him, absorbed as he was in his own work and prospects, it had seemed an unimportant matter. To tell him now how matters stood would only be to arouse useless anger in him. He could not clear her; and she resolved to wait until they should meet, and she could explain all by word of mouth. He did not very often enquire by post if she were well or happy; but he sent full particulars of his move to London, and of his new surroundings. Lettice wrote cheerily in answer, showing no sign of depression.
A letter came from Prue one day. "Your brother has been to call," she said, "and we hope to see something of him. He is in lodgings near us. Will not this tempt you to pay us a visit? Our present home is small—very different from the Farm—but you will not mind, when Felix is at hand. For his sake come if you can. A sister may have power over a brother; and it seems to me that he has been too long alone, with no softening home influence. You will forgive me for saying this! I am not finding fault with your brother; only I cannot help seeing that there is a need. Will you not give us a month or six weeks? Would Dr. and Mrs. Bryant object? Your last letter was very sad—so sad that it gave me a heart-ache. Has anything been troubling you very much of late?"
"If I could go! Oh, if I could!" murmured Lettice, a wild desire taking possession of her for kind looks and loving voices, in place of the cold indifference which now fenced her in. She realised all at once how long it was since she had seen the Valentines, how complete the separation had been between herself and Felix for years. Was it right that she should stay away, if by any means she could get to her brother? What if the character of Felix should undergo permanent deterioration, for lack of the sisterly softening which she might have power to supply?
"And there is no real reason! I am of no use here. I may just as well be there!" she uttered half aloud. "Prue does love—does care; and I think Felix does too, down below—if I could only get at him. If I only might go!"
"Go where?" demanded Theodosia by her side. Lettice had not known any one to be present; and she turned a stirred face to Mrs. Bryant.