“He is more to me than any one else in the world, now that you are going away, dear,” said Virginia gently. She had forgotten all of Anna's selfishness, her general unfairness, and the fact that she had not disdained to drive an exceedingly close bargain in the division of the estate; the latter, a point that the exasperated Benson could not get over and which he had kept before her with some insistence. These were the contradictory elements in human nature she felt; and her only emotion now was one of generous pity.
“Where is Stephen, Virginia?”
“He is with Martha; shall Jane go for him?”
“No, not yet. Let him stay with Martha till the last minute; until just before I go. You will do more for him than I could, Virginia; it is only believing this that makes it possible for me to leave him. You are lots wiser than I am, so perhaps it is providential that he should be left with you. When I come back in three or four years I expect he will be quite a big fellow, but don't let him forget his mother. Perhaps I haven't been just the best mother in the world, but in my own way I love him; you will not let him forget me—promise! Oh, it is so dreadful to be torn by these different loves and duties, I wish I was sure that I was doing right! The doctor doesn't seem to have any doubts, he is quite sure that I am.”
But Virginia had nothing to say to this. She disliked Dr. Stillman, for with true feminine constancy she had refused to modify her first unfavourable opinion of him. Anna she could forgive for her weakness and selfishness, and for what she considered her lack of any deep feeling, for Anna belonged to the family and bore the name of Lan-dray; but the doctor was to be judged by quite different standards; the charity she chose to exercise in the one case did not apply to the other.
And Anna having done exactly what she wished, having had her own way in every particular, and having sacrificed nothing of her feelings, her convenience, or her worldly fortunes, was now bent on being handsomely contrite.
“I have been frivolous and extravagant, and I expect a great care to you, Virginia, since poor Bush went away. I hope you will forgive me.”
“You have nothing to reproach yourself with, dear,” Virginia assured her.
“Oh, yes, I have! I fear even in settling up the estate I was selfish I should not have asked you to buy out my interest. Mr. Benson said I was involving you and the property. I don't see why he should have added that to my burdens at this time. I don't think he likes me any more; but it doesn't matter about him, Virginia; I don't care what he thinks, but it means everything to me what you think! And you won't be influenced by what he says about the property; that I should pay back the extra money I had before we knew? That was pure spite, Virginia!”
“I am sure he didn't mean it as you think, dear.”