"Ye that's warm and well fed yonder, pity the poor crathur could and wet and hasn't broke her fast this blessed day!"
The cook's shrill voice was heard in a key of reproof.
"Oh, mistress," proceeded the mendicant, "but it ill becomes the face that the fire's shining upon and the mate roasting before, to look round in anger on the desolate. Sure I wouldn't be troubling you here in the could this night if I had a hearth or a home of my own to go to!"
Mrs. Dorothea was struck with compassion for the poor wanderer. She opened the window, handed her money from it, and ringing the bell ordered her to have some dinner. "What a cheerful thing fire-light is!" she thought, as she resumed her seat, unconsciously made happy by the performance of a good action. She now remembered her late murmuring thoughts with shame, as she contrasted her own situation with that of the really destitute and became conscious that the source of her discontent was not any actual deprivation, but pride, a pride too, fostered into supernatural growth by the constant contemplation of the wealth and splendour belonging to the head of her own family, "If I could but afford to retain such a home as this," she thought, "how truly happy I might think myself. However, the poorest lodging I am at all likely to get into is a better shelter than many of my fellow creatures possess; let me not, therefore, murmur!"
A dapper double rap here startled her from her reverie. "Who could be calling at so late an hour?"
A gentleman entered whom Mrs. Dorothea had never seen before. He apologized for being so late. He had been detained by a client from the country, and had a journey to perform at an early hour in the morning. The writings had not been completed till that day, and he feared that before his return Mrs. Arden might have had the unnecessary trouble of moving from a house which was now her own freehold property. He then explained, that by order of Sir Willoughby Arden he had effected the purchase of the premises, with the fixtures, furniture, &c. &c., every thing as it stood; and was instructed to present her with the deeds, which accordingly he did.
This was, as may be well believed, welcome news to Mrs. Dorothea. She was thus not only comfortably settled in the home she liked so much, but rendered for her quite a rich woman; as her income, hitherto so insufficient, would, now that she was relieved from her heaviest expense—rent, be ample for all her other wants.
Willoughby, the most liberal and generous of mortals in money matters, had frequently heard his sisters talk over Aunt Dorothea's adventures in lodgings, and lament that she could not afford to keep her nice pretty house which suited her so well. He had, in consequence given the orders we have just seen executed, and from a feeling of delicacy had said nothing of his kind intentions, which had thus invested the transaction with the character of an agreeable surprise.