"Though Stephen has done so well, and gained a really wonderful position to start with, I wish we could keep him and his wife in England. I am new to the estates, and have but little loose capital."
"Because you have spent what you had in helping on a troop of younger brothers," said Stephen.
"Hush! Dear boy. Am I not in the father's place? I would not have you without work to do, but if it could have been here instead of in India!"
"Do not suppose that Bertha will be quite a dowerless bride," said Norman. "Uncle Bernard might declare that he would give her no share in his wealth, but he knew in whose hands he left her. Berty has always refused to talk of money, and Aunt Bella has made no sign, but immediately after my uncle's death, I set aside ten thousand pounds, and caused the money to be invested in my sister's name. That is hers absolutely."
I tried to interrupt Norman, but he insisted that this act of his was the barest justice, and that he hoped Stephen would see his way to give up the Indian appointment after all, for, with our united means, we could make a fair start in England.
But Stephen had his share of pride, and insisted that he would not permit my little dowry to be the staff on which he would lean.
We had visited the quaint iron safe in the early morning, and I had duly taken therefrom the jewels which made up Uncle Bernard's wedding gift.
The memory of his goodness to Norman and me, and the sight of his empty chair, caused the only tears I shed on that happy day. I was admired in my finery, and Lucy was more admired with no adornment save her own grace and beauty.
Tenants were feasted, costly gifts examined, kindly wishes spoken, and prayers offered for a bright future, both for the pair who were to remain at the Court and those whose home was to be far-away from it.
There was one more ceremony to begone through.