"I don't know much about happiness, Harry. There comes a dream of it sometimes,—such as you have got now. But I will answer for this: you shall never hear of my being down-hearted. At least not on my own account," she added in a whisper. "Poor Hermy may sometimes drag me down. But I will do my best. And, Harry, tell your wife that I shall write to her occasionally,—once a year, or something like that; so that she need not be afraid. Good-by, Harry."
"Good-by, Julia." And so they parted.
Immediately on her arrival at Tenby, Lady Ongar communicated to Mr. Turnbull her intention of giving back to the Courton family, not only the place called Ongar Park, but also the whole of her income with the exception of eight hundred a year, so that in that respect she might be equal to her sister. This brought Mr. Turnbull down to Tenby, and there was interview after interview between the countess and the lawyer. The proposition, however, was made to the Courtons, and was absolutely refused by them. Ongar Park was accepted on behalf of the mother of the present earl; but as regarded the money, the widow of the late earl was assured by the elder surviving brother that no one doubted her right to it, or would be a party to accepting it from her. "Then," said Lady Ongar, "it will accumulate in my hands, and I can leave it as I please in my will."
"As to that, no one can control you," said her brother-in-law—who went to Tenby to see her; "but you must not be angry, if I advise you not to make any such resolution. Such hoards never have good results." This good result, however, did come from the effort which the poor broken-spirited woman was making,—that an intimacy, and at last a close friendship, was formed between her and the relatives of her deceased lord.
And now my story is done. My readers will easily understand what would be the future life of Harry Clavering and his wife after the completion of that tour in Italy, and the birth of the heir,—the preparations for which made the tour somewhat shorter than Harry had intended. His father, of course, gave up to him the shooting, and the farming of the home farm,—and after a while, the management of the property. Sir Henry preached occasionally,—believing himself to preach much oftener than he did,—and usually performed some portion of the morning service.
"Oh, yes," said Theodore Burton, in answer to some comfortable remark from his wife; "Providence has done very well for Florence. And Providence has done very well for him also;—but Providence was making a great mistake when she expected him to earn his bread."