"That I have long taken as a matter of course; knowing what the expenses at the Hall must be," she answered with a friendly smile. "Bessy is a fortune in herself; she would make a good wife to any man. Provided they have sufficient for comfort--and I hope Oliver will soon be making that--they can be as happy without wealth as with it, if your sister can only think so. Have you--pardon me for recalling what must be an unpleasant topic, Richard--have you yet gained any clue to the writer of that anonymous letter?"
"Not any. It presents mystery on all sides."
"Mystery?"
"As it seems to me. Going over the various circumstances, as I do on occasion when I have a minute to myself, I try to fit the probability into another, and I cannot compass it. We must trust to time, Mrs. Cumberland. Good-morning."
Richard raised his hat, and left her. She sat on with her pain. Mrs. Cumberland was as strictly rigid a woman in tenets as in temperament; her code of morality was a severe one. Over and over again had she asked herself whether--it is of no use to mince the matter any longer--Oliver had or had not written that anonymous letter which had killed Edmund North: and she could not answer the question. But, if he had done it, why then surely he ought not to wed the sister. It would be little less than sin.
Since this secret trouble had been upon her, more than a month now, her face had seemed to assume a greyer tinge. How grey it looked now, as she sat on the bench, passers-by saw, and almost started. One of them was Mr. Alexander. Arresting his quick steps--he always walked quickly--he inquired after her health.
"Not any better and not much worse," she answered. "Complaints, such as mine, are always tediously prolonged."
"They are less severe to bear, however, than sharper ones," said the doctor, willing to administer a grain of comfort if he could. "What a lovely day! And madam's off for a couple of months, I hear."
"Have the two any connection with each other, Mr. Alexander?"
"I don't know," he said laughing. "Her presence makes winter at the Hall, and her absence its sunshine. If I had such a wife, I'm not sure that I should think it any sin to give her an overdose of laudanum some day, out of regard to the general peace. Did you hear of her putting Miss Bessy's wrist out?"