Margaret was cheered during this tedious interval by several very kind letters from Lady d'Eyncourt. As soon as she heard of Mr. Grey's death, she wrote to Margaret a letter full of deep feeling and sympathy. She said that when she returned to England, she counted on Margaret's taking up her abode at Sherleigh, unless before that time she was fixed in a home of her own. She was happier than most married women can expect to be, for she was not separated from her father. Captain Gage was now at Paris, with the d'Eyncourts, and he had agreed to travel with them, as long as they remained on the continent. Elizabeth mentioned in one of these letters, that her brother Hubert had sailed for South America, and that her father was very glad to get him out of the country; but it was evident that she did not know who had influenced his decision.
Margaret was cheered by this intelligence. She would have dreaded meeting him again, at least, for some time to come; and she was glad to find that she had been able to do some good by her advice.
One morning, Mr. Warde begged Margaret to come into his library as he wished to speak to her on business. Blanche and Mr. Compton were playing at battledore and shuttlecock, and she was not sorry to escape from their noisy enjoyment for a few minutes. Mr. Warde then told her that he had made several inquiries for such a home as he thought might be agreeable to Margaret; that he had found it rather difficult to meet one in all respects satisfactory. But that he had just received a letter from his friend, Mr. Fletcher, that he thought was worth considering about. Mr. Fletcher, if she remembered, was the clergyman to whom he had applied when her uncle desired to take a house by the sea-side.
Yes; Margaret recollected the name. She breathed short; one of those feelings called presentiments came over her. She knew perfectly what was coming.
"It seems," continued Mr. Warde, glancing at the letter, "that a lady in his neighbourhood has lately lost an only daughter, and she has been strongly urged to receive an inmate into her house; she is much averse to a companion in the usual sense of the term, but upon Mr. Fletcher stating to her the sort of home I was anxious to obtain for you, she seemed willing to receive you. You know the neighbourhood, and you are fond of fine scenery, but I must warn you that this lady lives absolutely without society. She is very well connected, but she has retired from the world."
The world—of which her short experience had been so bitter. That, indeed, was an inducement; and Aveline's mother—there was a sort of strange charm to her in the idea.
"I think I should like it," she faltered.
"This lady is a highly cultivated and intellectual woman," said Mr. Warde, "and I think you will appreciate the advantage of her conversation; no lessons are of such real benefit to a young person, as constant intercourse with a superior mind. And her principles are such as you know how to value and respect."
"Let me go to her," said Margaret.
"Can you make up your mind to solitude?" asked Mr. Warde. "Oh! yes—yes."