“No, no, lad; our times are in His hand, and I have received the summons, and so we 'ill go to business. And first about ma affairs. I wish ye to understand everything, that ye may be able to do your duty by ma widow.”
Egerton was conscious that Mrs. Arkwright straightened herself, and could feel the silence in the room; but the dying man was not one to appreciate an atmosphere.
“It may be that I was too owd for marrying, and ma ways too old-fashioned. Ma house has no been very bright for a young wife, and ma conscience did not allow me liberty in worldly amusements. But according to my nature I can say before God that I loved ye, Laura, and have tried to do ma part by ye.”
“You married me a poor girl, and have been most... kind to me, Jacob. Why speak of such things?” and her voice was proud and pained.
“You have been a faithful wife to me,” he went on, as one fulfilling a plan, “and have put up with my... peculiarities—for I know you do not think wi' me in things, and do not like some of the men 'at came to the house. Oh, I said nowt, but I saw aal.”
Mrs. Arkwright laid her hand on her husband's, and it occurred to Egerton from a slight flush on his face that she had never done this before.
“Ma will has been made for a year”—it was plain that Mr. Arkwright was to go on to the end, and Egerton could not have lifted his eyes for a ransom—“and I have left aal to my wife without any condition, with just one legacy. It is to you, Egerton, and I hope you'ill not refuse it—just something to remind you of me, and... get you books.”
“It was very... good of you, sir, and I am most... grateful, but I... really can't accept your kindness. It is not likely that I will ever marry, and I've got enough for myself.”
As he spoke, Mrs. Arkwright shook up the pillows hastily, and went to a side table for a glass.
“Well, if you will not, then there's an end of it; but you will grant me another favour which may be harder,” and for a minute Arkwright seemed to hesitate.