“Yes,” she raised her head proudly, “of course he must come forward. He need have no doubt. Send him to me, Julius, I will tell him to open letters, and put matters in train. Perhaps you will write to Graves for me, if he does not like it, poor boy.”
She had roused herself into the woman of business, and when Miles, after some indignation at her having been disturbed, obeyed the summons, she held out her arms, and became the consoler.
“Come, my boy,” she said, “we must face it sooner or later. You must stand foremost and take up his work for him.”
“Oh, mother! mother! you know how little I am able,” said Miles, covering his face with his hands.
“You do not bring his burthened heart to the task,” she said. “If you had watched and felt with him, as perhaps only his mother could, you would know that I can be content that the long heartache should have ceased, where the weary are at rest. Yes, Miles, I feel as if I had put him to sleep after a long day of pain, as when he was a little child.”
They hardened themselves to the discussion, Mrs. Poynsett explaining what she thought the due of her eldest son, only that Cecil’s jointure would diminish the amount at her disposal. Indeed, when she was once aroused, she attended the most fully; but when Miles found her apologizing for only affording him the little house in the village, he cried out with consternation.
“My dear,” she said, “it is best so; I will not be a burthen on you young ones. I see the mistake.”
“I know,” stammered Miles, “my poor Anne is not up to your mark—not clever like you or Jenny—but I thought you did like her pretty handy ways.”
“I feel them and love them with all my heart; but I cannot have her happiness and yours sacrificed to me. Yes, you boys love the old nest; but even Julius and Rose rejoice in their own, and you must see what she really wishes, not what she thinks her duty. Take her out walking, you both need it badly enough.”
They ventured to comply, and eluding Mr. Charnock, went into the park, silvery with the unstanched dews, and the leaves floating down one by one like golden rain. “Not much like the Bush,” said Miles.