‘I do believe,’ said Violet, ‘that if you go patiently, because it is your duty, that you will be putting yourself under the true guidance; but for you to extort permission to stay with me, when your father disapproves, would be only following your own way. I should be afraid. I will not undertake it, for it would not be right, and mischief would be sure to ensue.’
‘Then you give me up?’
‘Give you up! dear, dear sister;’ and Violet rose and threw her arms round Theodora. ‘No, indeed! When I am so glad that I may love you as I always wished! I shall think of you, and write to you, and pray for you,’ whispered she. ‘All I can I will do for you, but you must not say any more of staying with me now. I can help you better in my right place than out of it.’
Theodora returned the caress and quitted the room, leaving Violet to her regrets and fears. It was a great sacrifice of herself, and still worse, of her poor little pale boy, and she dreaded that it might be the ruin of the beneficial influence which, to her amazement, she found ascribed to her, in the most unexpected quarter. It had gone to her heart to refuse Theodora’s kindness, and all that was left for her was to try to still her fluttering, agitated spirits by the consciousness that she had striven to do right, and by the prayer that all might work for good.
Indeed, it was very remarkable how, in this critical period of Theodora’s life, when repentance was engaged in so severe a conflict with her long-nourished pride and passion, in all the tossings of her mind she had, as it were, anchored herself to her docile, gentle sister-in-law, treating her like a sort of embodiment of her better mind. Violet’s serenity and lowliness seemed to breathe peace on a storm-tossed ocean; and her want of self-assertion to make Theodora proud of submitting to her slightest wish without a struggle. Those vehement affections were winding themselves about her and her children; and the temper that had flown into fierce insubordination at the first control from lawful authority, laid itself at the feet of one whose power was in meekness. It was the lion curbed by the maiden; but because the subjection was merely a caprice, it was no conquest of self-will.
CHAPTER 21
But when the self-abhorring thrill
Is past, as pass it must,
When tasks of life thy spirit fill
Risen from thy tears and dust,
Then be the self-renouncing will
The seal of thy calm trust.
—Lyra Apostolica
Arthur quitted London the day after his little girl’s christening, talking of being absent only a fortnight, before taking his wife to Windsor; and promising to return at once, if she should find herself in the least unwell or dispirited. She was delighted to be well enough not to spoil his sport, and Theodora was too anxious to have him at a distance from Mr. Gardner to venture on any remonstrance.
It was the day the family were to come to London, and he left orders with the ladies to say ‘all that was proper’, but the twelfth of August was to him an unanswerable reason for immediate departure.