CHAPTER X.
FACING THE FUTURE.
The day of the funeral has come and gone. The last fond look has been taken, and the last kiss given to the calm, placid face, so soon to be hidden from sight. And now the mortal remains of the fond husband, loving father, and kind master have been carried from the once happy home, and, followed by a large number of sympathetic friends and acquaintances, in addition to the little train of mourners, are laid in their last resting-place.
The blinds are once more drawn up, and the winter sunlight streams into the dining-room, where are assembled Lady Woodhouse, Miss Denison, Doris, and Honor, with Mr. Trent and the old head clerk, Mr. Hobson, who is visibly overcome by the sadness of the occasion.
"It is no use," remarks Mr. Trent, moving some papers about, and seeming chiefly to address himself to the old man seated opposite him. "It will be no use going through my late client's will, although it was properly drawn up and witnessed only a few months back."
"Not the least in the world," asserts Mr. Hobson, taking off his spectacles and carefully polishing them up.
"Therefore," continues Mr. Trent slowly, "we may dispense with the usual forms and give our attention, Mr. Hobson, to settling the future affairs of Mrs. Merivale and these poor young ladies here. I have looked through Mr. Merivale's papers, and I find that there will be absolutely nothing but your own little property, Miss Honor, and the small portion of your mother's fortune, which is safely invested. The two together will amount to £70 per annum, and that, I regret to say, is absolutely all." With that the old gentleman looks kindly, and with eyes not altogether free from dimness, at the two orphan daughters of his late client, and for a few moments there is a dead silence in the room, broken by Honor, who presently asks:
"But, Mr. Trent, ought we to keep this—I mean, ought we not to give up everything in such a case as this?"
Lady Woodhouse gasps, and is about to pour forth a torrent of remonstrances, when Mr. Trent, also looking slightly taken aback, replies:
"My dear young lady, just consider a moment. You have a perfect right to this money, and, pardon me if I ask, what would you propose to do without it? You cannot even realize what a paltry sum it is when house-rent, food, and clothing, to say nothing if any other expenses have to come out of it. You are doing as much as it is possible to do; indeed more than some persons would do; and I can assure you, Miss Honor, that there is not one among the unfortunate sufferers in this collapse who will not be satisfied with the course that is being taken."