“Did he tell you what gave him the idea?” asked Lettice, almost in a whisper.
“Some chance words of mine at Esparto,” said Godfrey.
“It is very generous of him to have said so. But it was not only that,” said Lettice, her eyes filling with tears.
But, somehow or other, the confession she made of this new offence did not lower her in Mr Auriol’s eyes as hopelessly as she had expected.
A few days later a happily reunited family were assembled in Mr Morison’s house. How easy it was for Lettice to convince Arthur of the complete change in her feelings, when she told him of the little-hoped-for reconciliation with their uncle, may be imagined! How more than ready to forgive her unfortunate influence in their affairs she found Philip and Nina! How her uncle and aunt promised to forget the anxiety she had caused them, on condition of her never again thus setting aside the judgment and experience of her natural protectors! How more than amazed was everybody when, a few weeks later, by which time Lettice had learnt to believe that Godfrey Auriol did mean what he said, her engagement to him was announced! All these “hows” I must also leave to my reader’s imagination.
The old farmer and his family, whose honest kindliness had so fortunately intervened to save poor Arthur from taking some really foolish step, were not forgotten. And in after-days, when his wish was fulfilled, and he had replaced his uncle at the head of his firm, he would sometimes recall with a smile the days when he had measured grey flannel and wrapped up parcels of tapes and ribbons for the dames of Greenwell.
There are many ways in which life’s lessons are taught. Some have to go through hard and sorrowful experiences—harder, it often seems, than they merit; others, like Lettice, learn true humility and sacrifice of self-will by gentler discipline. As she often said to herself—
“How can I ever be good enough to show my gratitude? How little have I deserved such happiness—I who might have ruined not merely my own life, but those of others, by my foolish obstinacy!”
And “prejudice” was a word and a sentiment which Lettice Auriol’s children were never allowed to know the meaning of.