While the good woman was forced to bestir herself for her lodgers’ breakfasts, Lucilla could steal a solitary moment to gaze on the pallid face to which death had restored much of its beauty. She pressed her lips on the regal brow, and spoke half aloud, ‘Edna, Edna Sandbrook, sister Edna, you should have trusted me. You knew I would see justice done to you, and I will. You shall lie by my mother’s side in our own churchyard, and Wrapworth shall know that she, whom they envied and maligned, was Owen Sandbrook’s wife and my cherished sister.’
Poor Mrs. Murrell, with her swimming eyes and stock phrases, brought far more Christian sentiments to the bed of death. ‘Poor, dear love, her father and I little thought it would end in this, when we used to be so proud of her. We should have minded that pride is not made for sinners. “Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain;” and the Lord saw it well that we should be cast down and slanderous lips opened against us, that so we might feel our trust is in Him alone! Oh, it is good that even thus she was brought to turn to Him! But I thank—oh, I thank Him that her father never lived to see this day!’
She wept such tears of true thankfulness and resignation, that Lucilla, almost abashed by the sight of piety beyond her comprehension, stood silent, till, with a change to the practical, Mrs. Murrell recovered herself, saying, ‘If you please, ma’am, when had I best come and speak to the young gentleman? I ought to know what would be pleasing to him about the funeral.’
‘We will arrange,’ said Lucilla; ‘she shall be buried with my mother and sister in Wrapworth churchyard.’
Though gratified, Mrs. Murrell demurred, lest it might be taken ill by the ‘family’ and by that godly minister whose kindness and sympathy at the time of Edna’s evasion had made a deep impression; but Lucilla boldly undertook that the family
must like it, and she would take care of the minister. Nor was the good woman insensible to the posthumous triumph over calumny, although still with a certain hankering after Kensal Green as a sweet place, with pious monuments, where she should herself be laid, and the Company that did things so reasonable and so handsome.
Lucilla hurried back to fulfil the mission of Nemesis to the Charterises, which she called justice to Edna, and by the nine o’clock post despatched three notes. One containing the notice for the Times—‘On the 17th instant, at 8, Little Whittington-street, St. Wulstan’s, Edna, the beloved wife of Owen Charteris Sandbrook, Esq.;’ another was to order a complete array of mourning from her dressmaker; and the third was to the Reverend Peter Prendergast, in the most simple manner requesting him to arrange for the burial of her sister-in-law, at 5 P.M. on the ensuing Saturday, indicating the labourers who should act as bearers, and ending with, ‘You will be relieved by hearing that she was no other than our dear Edna, married on the 14th of July, last year.’
She then beguiled the time with designs for gravestones, until she became uneasy at Owen’s non-appearance, and longed to go and see after him; but she fancied he might have spent nights of watching, and thought sleep would be the best means of getting through the interval which appalled her mind, unused to contact with grief. Still his delay began to wear her spirits and expectation, so long wrought up to the meeting; and she was at least equally restless for the appearance of Robert, wanting to hear more from him, and above all certain that all her dreary cravings and vacancy would be appeased by one dialogue with him, on whatever topic it might be. She wished that she had obeyed that morning bell at St. Wulstan’s. It would have disposed of half-an-hour, and she would have met him. ‘For shame,’ quoth the haughty spirit, ‘now that has come into my head, I can’t go at all.’
Her solitude continued till half-past ten, when she heard the welcome sound of Robert’s voice, and flew to meet him, but was again checked by his irresponsive manner as he asked for Owen.
‘I have not seen him. I do not know whether to knock, lest he should be asleep.’