“God help me, then—for I’m sure I need it. Where’s Milicent?”
“She’s there, just coming in with her sister.”
He stepped out at the glass door, and went to meet them. I followed at a little distance. Somewhat to his wife’s astonishment, he lifted her off from the ground, and saluted her with a hearty kiss and a strong embrace; then placing his two hands on her shoulders, he gave her, I suppose, a sketch of the great things he meant to do, for she suddenly threw her arms round him, and burst into tears, exclaiming,—“Do, do, Ralph—we shall be so happy! How very, very good you are!”
“Nay, not I,” said he, turning her round, and pushing her towards me. “Thank her; it’s her doing.”
Milicent flew to thank me, overflowing with gratitude. I disclaimed all title to it, telling her her husband was predisposed to amendment before I added my mite of exhortation and encouragement, and that I had only done what she might, and ought to have done herself.
“Oh, no!” cried she; “I couldn’t have influenced him, I’m sure, by anything that I could have said. I should only have bothered him by my clumsy efforts at persuasion, if I had made the attempt.”
“You never tried me, Milly,” said he.
Shortly after they took their leave. They are now gone on a visit to Hattersley’s father. After that they will repair to their country home. I hope his good resolutions will not fall through, and poor Milicent will not be again disappointed. Her last letter was full of present bliss, and pleasing anticipations for the future; but no particular temptation has yet occurred to put his virtue to the test. Henceforth, however, she will doubtless be somewhat less timid and reserved, and he more kind and thoughtful.—Surely, then, her hopes are not unfounded; and I have one bright spot, at least, whereon to rest my thoughts.
CHAPTER XLIII
October 10th.—Mr. Huntingdon returned about three weeks ago. His appearance, his demeanour and conversation, and my feelings with regard to him, I shall not trouble myself to describe. The day after his arrival, however, he surprised me by the announcement of an intention to procure a governess for little Arthur: I told him it was quite unnecessary, not to say ridiculous, at the present season: I thought I was fully competent to the task of teaching him myself—for some years to come, at least: the child’s education was the only pleasure and business of my life; and since he had deprived me of every other occupation, he might surely leave me that.