"Actually turned out of the house by that wretch, Dr. Woodman!"
"Pocket the affront, Cilly," said Mr. Van Horn, philosophically. "It won't do to make a fuss about it just now. We shall make the place too hot to hold us, if we are not careful. I wouldn't go there again, if she didn't like it," he added. "It isn't lucky to quarrel with dying folks. I'll get you something prettier than any thing of hers, the next time I go to New York."
"I wonder what Emerson will say to all these goings-on when he comes home?" said Mrs. Van Horn, spitefully. "See if I don't stir him up a little: that's all!"
"Oh, no: I wouldn't," replied her husband. "Let the poor thing die in peace, and have her friends about her, and her prayers and her psalm-singing, if they are any comfort to her. You will only make a fuss, and perhaps bring some ill luck upon us. Better let her alone."
[CHAPTER XVII.]
PEACE AT LAST.
IT was not appointed that Agnes should see her husband again. As the days passed on, and nothing was heard from Joseph, she grew very anxious. She busied herself, as she was able, in writing a letter to her husband, in which she stated her wishes concerning Madge, and entreated him to consent that the child should be given to her cousins. She read this part of the letter to Letty, and also a paragraph relating to the disposition of her clothes and trinkets.
"I want your boy to have my Herbert's silver cup," said she; "and there is a gold necklace for Una; and, Letty, I should like you to take all Herbert's clothes. They are in that camphor-wood box. You can use them for your child. Let Madge have all the rest of my things as she needs them. I have written all about it to Joseph; and I do not think he will object.
"Give him the letter some morning when he is sober, and tell him that I died praying for him. Oh, how different he and every thing else might have been, if I had only done my duty! But we were all wrong from the first. I had no idea what I was about when I married. I thought I was going to be rid of all trouble and have some one to wait upon me and take care of me for the rest of my life. How I used to laugh at you and John for your sober ways of thinking and acting! But you were far wiser than we were."
"I have to thank Mrs. Trescott for most of my wisdom," remarked Letty. "I have always been grateful that, by a kind providence, I fell into such hands when I was obliged to leave home."