CHAPTER XVII.
Is there no more but parting left, of all
The love we bore each other? Is it easy
So to break trust and faith? Are all the tales
Of constancy, that make the heart beat high,
Mere fables?—Then, indeed, farewell!—'tis time.
ANON.
The next morning Mr. Warde came early to Ashdale, and finding that all was over, he took Margaret home with him to the Vicarage.
She had sat up all night, and what with fasting and want of sleep, she was perfectly exhausted.
Mrs. Somerton and Blanche were at the Vicarage, and they were both very kind to Margaret. Indeed, many women not very deserving of respect in their general conduct, are ready to show kindness to others under actual suffering.
Mrs. Somerton insisted on Margaret going to bed at once, and Blanche brought some tea to her bed-side as soon she was undressed. She kept her bed for some days. All that she had lately endured, unnerved her completely; and when, at length, she made the effort to rise, her limbs trembled so much, that it was with the utmost difficulty that she could get down stairs; and there seated in an arm-chair, she remained for some hours every day, unable to undergo the fatigue of speaking, or even of listening to what was passing.
When Mr. Grey's Will was read, it was found that he bequeathed his estate to his cousin, Mr. Trevor of the East India Company's service; an annuity to one or two servants; and a legacy of ten thousand pounds to his niece Margaret Capel. Margaret was very much affected when Mr. Warde told her this piece of news; she repeated over and over again how very kind it was of her uncle to have left her this money; a trait which pleased Mr. Warde very much, for he was afraid she would have been very greatly disappointed that her uncle had not left her the bulk of his property. However, a great many people kindly undertook to be disappointed for her; and to say that it was a shame in Mr. Grey, after having her to live with him, to treat her in that manner, and cut her off with ten thousand pounds; and that old people never knew how to leave their money so as to give satisfaction to their relations; which is true enough.
Nobody knew that it was Margaret's own fault; that she was in the secret, and that a word from her, after her rupture with Mr. Haveloc, would have caused her uncle to alter his Will, and settle all his property upon her; but her one aim was to spare him the knowledge of an event which would give him pain; she never thought about securing his fortune. Mr. Warde told her that he and Mr. Casement were named as her guardians until she married or became of age; and that he thought her best plan would be to reside with some lady who might be able to offer her a comfortable home, and desirous to profit by the arrangement; that such a person would be easily found, but that he trusted for the present she would remain at the Vicarage; so that they might look about at their leisure, and select the residence that should present the most advantages. Margaret thanked him very much for his kindness; for the future she felt a sort of vague indifference. She acceded, at once, to his plans, and hardly gave another thought to her prospects.
Blanche Somerton who had been excessively kind, even delicate in her attentions, until after the funeral of Mr. Grey, now began to think that Margaret's languid sorrow was a little out of place. She was one of the many who think that all regrets are quite useless and nonsensical as soon as the dead are buried. Her own emotions were stormy and brief; and she felt good-naturedly that it was high time to begin to cheer up Margaret's spirits.
"I declare, I envy you of all things;" said she one morning, "with twenty thousand pounds you can surely make a very good match. But it all depends upon where Uncle Warde places you; take my advice and don't go to a Methodist. I would get some dowager at Bath, or Cheltenham to take me out, if I were you. You might meet with something very advantageous at Bath; better I think than in London. There is so much competition; though you are certainly very pretty—not that I like you in mourning."