“You ARE a friend!” said he. “I should never have ventured on that; it will be a godsend to my poor Rosa. You will be kind to her when I am gone?”
“I will.”
“So will Uncle Philip, I think. I will see him before I go, and shake hands. He has been a good friend to me; but he was too hard upon HER; and I could not stand that.”
Then he thanked and blessed her again, with the tears in his eyes, and left her more disturbed and tearful than she had ever been since she grew to woman. “O cruel poverty!” she thought, “that such a man should be torn from his home, and thank me for doing it—all for a little money—and here are we poor commonplace creatures rolling in it.”
Staines hurried home, and told his wife. She clung to him convulsively, and wept bitterly; but she made no direct attempt to shake his resolution; she saw, by his iron look, that she could only afflict, not turn him.
Next day came Lady Cicely to see her. Lady Cicely was very uneasy in her mind, and wanted to know whether Rosa was reconciled to the separation.
Rosa received her with a forced politeness and an icy coldness that petrified her. She could not stay long in face of such a reception. At parting, she said, sadly, “You look on me as an enemy.”
“What else can you expect, when you part my husband and me?” said Rosa, with quiet sternness.
“I meant well,” said Lady Cicely sorrowfully; “but I wish I had never interfered.”
“So do I,” and she began to cry.