"How could I object to your keeping the dear old garden—how glad should I be to think that it was an old friend, not a stranger, who lived there."
"Would you now, ma'am," said John, his face brightening; "I could keep the old walks and the hot beds as they used to be—and 'twouldn't be quite such a breaking up of old times—for I have lived there so long, it seems like a home to me."
"I should be very glad," said Mabel, "to think you were happy there, and that something of what I loved so well remained still. I will speak to Mr. Clifford, perhaps he may do what we ask—for he seems willing to please everybody."
"Thank ye, ma'am," said John, rubbing his head with an air of consideration, as if he had something more to say.
"And you, Betsy, what will you do?"
"Why, that's the very thing," said John, as Betsy hesitated, in her turn; "'praps you don't know, ma'am, that Jonathan Williams has courted her for many years—but she didn't like to leave poor missis. Now, I was thinking, if you approve, that, as I am getting old, I shall want some one to help me, and as he's a clever man at a garden, I might as well take him into employ or partnership, and so we might live altogether—for," he added, with great emphasis; "I don't like to be put out by strangers—and Betsy knows my ways."
"That will be perfect," cried Mabel, with something of the gladness of her old tone of voice, rising as she spoke; "and you must write to me often, and tell me how this plan goes on;" she said, more hurriedly. "In the mean while, to secure its success, I shall place twenty pounds, a piece, for you, in Mr. Ware's hands; which you can draw upon, as you want money, for furnishing your new house—and I hope you have laid up something for yourselves, and so will be able to start with advantage. You must let me get you your wedding gown, Betsy."
So difficult is it for the uneducated to separate wealth from gentle manners, and ladylike qualities, that the two faithful domestics accepted her parting gift with gratitude and pleasure; but without the reluctance which they would have felt, had they guessed the real nature of her circumstances. They could not fancy that the mistress, whose noble qualities had ever received their genuine respect, was really almost moneyless, and dependent for the blessing of a home. Mabel was not sorry to keep up the illusion, and tore herself from them before they had time to enquire anything of her future plans.
When she placed the money in Mr. Ware's hands, he remonstrated with her on giving away a sum so large in proportion to with what she actually possessed; but she replied cheerfully—
"So much of our comfort is in the hands of our servants, that if they have served us well, we can scarcely reward them enough. The thought that I have shewn them something of my gratitude for the past, will be better to me than the money itself. The selfish reason that I have no one to care for but myself, should at least have its advantages."