And she sank back on her pillow sobbing.
"Mother, darling," cried Aldyth, bending over her with a tenderness almost maternal in her manner—it was as if the mother and child had changed places. "Mother, darling, do not cry so; I will take care of you. I have a home, you know; and that and everything I have is yours. Try to bear up for the sake of your children, who love you and will do all in their power to make you happy."
"Thank you, my darling child," murmured Mrs. Stanton, "You are so good." Then, with a fresh flow of tears—"But it is dreadful to lose my husband so—without a word; and I cannot even look upon his lifeless form. It is so hard."
Aldyth could not speak; it was all she could do to keep from weeping herself, but she kissed her mother and laid her cheek against hers, and the mute caresses were more soothing than words.
Later in the day, Cecil arrived from London, prepared to stay over Sunday with his mother and sisters. He appeared shocked by the news, but it was the pecuniary loss that most affected his spirits, as Aldyth could not but perceive. It touched her to think how slight a hold Robert Stanton had had on the hearts of his children. With whom did the fault lie? Had he lived too absorbed in business to find time for the culture of family affections, or did the infirmity of his extreme shyness and reserve raise a barrier even between him and his children? Aldyth was inclined to explain it by the latter supposition, for the little she had seen of her stepfather led her to credit him with a good heart, keenly responsive to kindness, but incapable, from physical hindrances, of giving ready expression to feeling.
Cecil's mind was in a state of indignant resistance to the calamity that had overtaken them. He was glad to express himself freely when he got an opportunity of talking to Aldyth alone.
"It is all my uncle's fault, I know," he said; "now, you see, when we get particulars, if it does not come out that the failure is entirely owing to some rash speculation my uncle has plunged into. My father let him have things too much his own way. It was a great mistake. It is all very well to talk about affliction, but this is my uncle's doing, and I mean to let him know what I think of his conduct."
"Will that be of any good?" asked Aldyth, gently. "I suppose he and his family are also reduced to poverty. He must deplore his action now as much as you do."
"Whether it is of any good or not, I mean to do it for my own satisfaction," replied Cecil. "It is no joke to have the whole of your income swept away. What am I to do? What is to become of mamma and the girls?"
"Oh, do not let that trouble you," said Aldyth. "Mamma and Gladys are coming with me to Wyndham—there is plenty of room for them there; indeed, I was in despair at the thought that I might have to live in that great place alone. Nelly will go back to school for the present; and you, I hope, will remain in your lodgings near the hospital."