their husbands.'
Every rational person at Gothlands thought this letter conclusive; Emma herself was shaken; but a walk in the shrubbery with Mark settled it in her mind that his newly-formed wishes of amendment had then been weak--he had not then seen her, he had not learnt so much as at present. He had not been able to confess these deeds, because others, who had now spoken, were concerned in them; but now it was a relief to be able to tell all to his Emma! The end of it was, that Emma herself was almost ready to press forward the marriage, so as to give him the means of clearing himself from the debts, which, as he insinuated, were the true cause of Colonel Martindale's accusations. He forgave him, however, though if all was known of his dealings with Arthur Martindale--! And then there was a long confidential talk with Theresa Marstone, after which she told Lady Elizabeth that, though Mr. Gardner spared Emma's feelings with regard to her friend, there could be no doubt that Colonel Martindale had done much to lead him astray.
At last, as a dutiful concession, Emma resolved on a compromise, and put him on his probation for a year. This was particularly inconvenient to him, but he was very resigned and humble; 'perhaps he had hoped more from her affection, but he knew it was his penalty, and must submit. If there was but some religious house to which he could retire for the intermediate space; for he dreaded the effect of being sent back to the world.'
Theresa was wrought upon to counsel haste; but Emma had principle at the bottom of her effervescence of folly, and was too right-minded, as well as too timid, to act in direct opposition to her mother, however she might be led to talk. Therefore they parted, with many tears on Emma's part, and tender words and promises on Mark's. Lady Elizabeth had little hope that he would not keep them; but she took advantage of the reprieve to conduct Emma to make visits amongst her relations--sober people, among whom sense was more likely to flourish, and among whom Mr. Gardner could never dare to show himself.
He went, as he told Emma, to seek for some continental convent, where perhaps be might be received as a boarder, and glean hints for the Priory. Ordinary minds believed that his creditors being suspicious of the delay of his marriage with the heiress, had contributed to this resolution.
He spent a few days in London on his way, came to call on Colonel Martindale, and was much with him, as Violet afterwards found, though she did not know of it at the time.
She perceived the renewal of his influence in a project of which Arthur began to talk, of leaving the army and establishing himself at Boulogne. Though by rigid economy and self-denial she had continued to make the original sum apportioned to her cover all household expenses, and his promotion had brought an increase of income, Arthur declared that, with such a family, his means were inadequate to the requirements of his profession, and that unless his father could assist them further, they must reside abroad. Lord Martindale treated the threat with great displeasure, and to Violet it was like annihilation. When thankful for Mark Gardner's absence, she was to be made to pursue him, probably in order that he might continue to prey on Arthur in secret, and then, at the year's end, bring them as witnesses that he had abstained from open transgression; she was to see her husband become the idling Englishman abroad, in the society most likely to be his ruin; to have her children exposed to the disadvantages of a foreign education--what more was wanting to her distress? She ventured to expostulate on their account; but Arthur laughed, and told her they would learn French for nothing; and when she spoke of the evils of bringing up a boy in France, it was with the look which pained her so acutely, that she was answered, 'No fear but that he will be looked after: he is of consequence in the family.'
Never had the future looked so desolate; but sufficient unto the day was the evil thereof. She had the root of peace and strength, and had long been trained in patient trust and endurance. To pray, to strive, to dwell on words of comfort, to bear in mind the blessings of the cross, to turn resolutely from gloomy contemplations, and to receive thankfully each present solace,--these were the tasks she set herself, and they bore the fruit of consolation and hidden support. Her boy's affection and goodness, the beauty and high health of her little girls, and the kindlier moments when Arthur's better nature shone out, were balm and refreshment, because she accepted them as gifts from the Fatherly Hand that laid the trial upon her.
Her submissive distress so far worked on Arthur, that she heard no more of the Boulogne scheme for the present, and she drove it out of her mind, grateful for his silence, whether it was only from consideration for her, or whether he had really relinquished the design, now that Mr. Gardner was no longer near to maintain his ascendancy.
The summer was dreary at Brogden, as well as in Cadogan-place. Theodora soon was able to call herself well, and to resume her usual avocations, but she had not the same sense of energy and strength of body, and her days were combats with inertness and fatigue. She did not slacken her exertions, but they had no zest, and she suffered for them. Moreover, she was uneasy about Arthur and his wife; and to partake her father's confidence was to share his many anxieties, and to be perplexed by his cares as well as her own. With her mother there were other difficulties. Lady Martindale had been kept so far apart from her daughter, that now it seemed as if they could not amalgamate, and when Theodora no longer was ill, the old habit of reserve returned. Assiduously did Theodora wait on her, read to her, and go out with her in the carriage; but still without becoming familiar, or being able to cheer her spirits. In truth, after having been for years an obedient attendant on her aunt, Lady Martindale felt the blank of the want of occupation, and thus the sense of her loss was ever renewed. Science, literature, and accomplishments had been her pursuits, chiefly because her aunt led her to them, and they had been gradually dropped with Mrs. Nesbit's interest in them. In themselves they had no charm for her, and she turned from them now as painfully recalling what she had lost. Dispirited, and without employment, the natural consequence was that her health suffered, and she became a prey to the varied torments of neuralgia, while Theodora proved herself a better nurse than could have been expected for an illness in which she only half believed.
Many hopes were fixed on John's return; but this was deferred,--he was in the midst of church building, and establishing schemes to which absence would be fatal, and he could only promise to come home next year, when things should be put in train. To his sister he wrote a letter so full of warm affectionate gratitude for her exertions in his behalf, that she was positively soothed and refreshed, and reckoned the more on beginning with him the fraternal union so long delayed, but to which she looked as the solace of her future life.
As to Percival Fotheringham, there was no further explanation of his marriage. John wrote to Violet that he had not heard from him for many months, for it was difficult to keep up a correspondence between Barbuda and the continental towns whither he was journeying. His last letter had spoken of a tour in Italy in contemplation, and that in which he had communicated Lady Fotheringham's death, mentioned some of her last cares being for Jane and Georgina, and how she had tried to leave some provision which might rescue the former from the necessity of following her sister into the undesirable society she found abroad. This only served to confirm Theodora's conjecture.
From other sources no intelligence was gained. London was empty, and Violet saw no one likely to know anything of his movements; and when she heard that Mark Gardner had been in town, and eagerly inquired whether he had been asked, she found that Arthur had forgotten the whole matter. Lady Elizabeth finished the letter, rejoicing in his departure, by saying--'He confirms what I told you of the marriage of his cousin and Mr. Fotheringham, and calls it a lucky thing for her. I had no opportunity of hearing the particulars.' And, finally, Mrs. Bryanstone had heard of Miss Gardner's marriage with one of the Fotheringhams of Worthbourne, and only wanted Mrs. Martindale to strengthen her in the belief that it was the dear, eccentric Crusader.
CHAPTER 7
'Mid sombre shades of evening dim Upon the rock so lone, so drear, Scorning weak frame and sinking limb, My heart grows bright and bold of cheer; Out of the depths of stormy night My hope looks up with cloudless eyes, And to the one true deathless light, Its joyful pinions swiftly rise: Thanks to the seraph shape that beamed Benign upon my darkened breast, So for her service worthy deemed, My grateful heart abounds in rest. FOUQUE'S Minstrel Love
'Wrangerton, August 20th.
'You must not be frightened, dearest Violet--Albert is safe; thanks to that most noble-hearted, admirable Lord St. Erme, and above all, thanks to Him who directed this dreadful stroke away from us. I hope you will receive this before you see the newspaper. Mamma has gone up with them, to help them to break it to poor Lady Lucy. May she be supported!
'The history, as far as I can toll you, is this:--The men at the collieries have been as troublesome and insubordinate as ever, seeming to think opposition to Lord St. Erme an assertion of their rights as free-born
