pardon me? I do think that this is a little restlessness. The truth has not been kept from him, and I do not see that we are called to force it on him. He is sensible and reasonable, and will know how to judge when he comes home.'
'It was to try to save him the pang,' murmured Margaret.
'Yes; but it will be worse far away than near. I do not mean that we should conceal the fact, but you have no right to give him up before he comes home. The whole engagement was for the time of his voyage.'
'Then you think I ought not to break it off before his return?'
'Certainly not.'
'It will be pain spared--unless it should be worse by and by.'
'I do not suppose we ought to look to by and by,' said Richard.
'How so?'
'Do the clearly right thing for the present, I mean,' he said, 'without anxiety for the rest. How do we--any of us--know what may be the case in another year?'
'Do not flatter me with hopes,' said Margaret, sadly smiling; 'I have had too many of them.'
'No,' said Richard; 'I do not think you will ever get well. But so much may happen--'
'I had rather have my mind made up once for all, and resign myself,' said Margaret.
'His will is sometimes that we should be uncertain,' said Richard.
'And that is the most trying,' said Margaret.
'Just so--' and he paused tenderly.
'I feel how much has been right,' said Margaret. 'This wedding has brought my real character before me. I feel what I should have been. You have no notion how excited and elated I can get about a little bit of dress out of the common way for myself or others,' said she, smiling; 'and then all the external show and things belonging to station--I naturally care much more for them than even Flora does. Ethel would bear all those things as if they did not exist--I could not.'
'They would be a temptation?'
'They would once have been. Yes, they would now,' said Margaret. 'And government, and management, and influence--you would not guess what dreams I used to waste on them, and now here am I set aside from it all, good for nothing but for all you dear ones to be kind to.'
'They would not say so,' said Richard kindly.
'Not say it, but I feel it. Papa and Ethel are all the world to each other--Richard, I may say it to you. There has been only one thing more hard to bear than that--don't suppose there was a moment's neglect or disregard; but when first I understood that Ethel could be more to him than I, then I could not always feel rightly. It was the punishment for always wanting to be first.'
'My father would be grieved that you had the notion. You should not keep it.'
'He does not know it is so,' said Margaret; 'I am his first care, I fear, his second grief; but it is not in the nature of things that Ethel should not be more his comfort and companion. Oh! I am glad it was not she who married! What shall we do when she goes?'
This came from Margaret's heart, so as to show that if there had once been a jealous pang of mortification, it had been healed by overflowing, unselfish affection and humility.
They went off to praise Ethel, and thence to praise Norman, and the elder brother and sister, who might have had some jealousy of the superiority of their juniors, spent a good happy hour in dwelling on the shining qualities they loved so heartily.
And Richard was drawn into talking of his own deeper thoughts, and Margaret had again the comfort of clerical counsel--and now from her own most dear brother! So they sat till darkness closed in, when Ethel came down, bringing Gertrude and her great favour, very full of chatter, only not quite sure whether she had been bride, bride's- maid, or bridegroom.
The schoolroom set, with Tom and Aubrey, came home soon after, and tongues went fast with stories of roast-beef, plum-pudding, and blind-man's-buff. How the dear Meta had sent a cart to Cocksmoor to bring Cherry herself, and how many slices everybody had eaten, and how the bride's health had been drunk by the children in real wine, and how they had all played, Norman and all, and how Hector had made Blanche bold enough to extract a raisin from the flaming snap-dragon. It was not half told when Dr. May came home, and Ethel went up to dress for her dinner at Abbotstoke, Mary following to help her and continue her narration, which bade fair to entertain Margaret the whole evening.
Dr. May, Richard, and Ethel had a comfortable dark drive to the Grange, and, on arriving, found Hector deep in 'Wild Sports of the West', while Norman and Meta were sitting over the fire talking, and Mr. Rivers was resting in his library.
And when Ethel and Meta spent the time before the gentlemen came in from the dining-room, in a happy tete- a-tete, Ethel learned that the fire-light dialogue had been the pleasantest part of the whole day, and that Meta had had confided to her the existence of Decius Mus--a secret which Ethel had hitherto considered as her own peculiar property, but she supposed it was a pledge of the sisterhood, which Meta professed with all the house of May.
CHAPTER VIII.
The rest all accepted the kind invitation, And much bustle it caused in the plumed creation; Such ruffling of feathers, such pruning of coats, Such chirping, such whistling, such clearing of throats, Such polishing bills, and such oiling of pinions, Had never been known in the biped dominions. Peacock at Home.
Etheldred was thankful for that confidence to Meta Rivers, for without it, she would hardly have succeeded in spurring Norman up to give the finishing touches to Decius, and to send him in. If she talked of the poem as the devotion of Decius, he was willing enough, and worked with spirit, for he liked the ideas, and enjoyed the expressing them, and trying to bring his lines to his notion of perfection, but if she called it the 'Newdigate,' or the 'Prize Poem,' and declared herself sure it would be successful, he yawned, slackened, leaned back in his chair, and began to read other people's poetry, which Ethel was disrespectful enough not to think nearly as good as his own.
It was completed at last, and Ethel stitched it up with a narrow red and white ribbon--the Balliol colours; and set Meta at him till a promise was extorted that he would send it in. And, in due time, Ethel received the following note:
'My Dear Ethel,--
'My peacock bubble has flown over the house. Tell them all about it. -Your affectionate, N. W. M.'
They were too much accustomed to Norman's successes to be extraordinarily excited; Ethel would have been much mortified if the prize had been awarded to any one else, but, as it was, it came rather as a matter of course. The doctor was greatly pleased, and said he should drive round by Abbotstoke to tell the news there, and then laughed beyond measure to hear that Meta had been in the plot, saying he should accuse the little humming-bird of being a magpie, stealing secrets.
By this time the bride and bridegroom were writing that they thought of soon returning; they had spent the early spring at Paris, had wandered about in the south of France, and now were at Paris again. Flora's letters were long, descriptive, and affectionate, and she was eager to be kept fully informed of everything at home. As soon as she heard of Norman's success, she wrote a whole budget of letters, declaring that she and George would hear of no refusal; they were going to spend a fortnight at Oxford for the Commemoration, and must have Meta and Ethel with them to hear Norman's poem in the theatre.
Dr. May, who already had expressed a hankering to run up for the day and take Ethel with him, was perfectly delighted at the proposal, and so was Mr. Rivers, but the young ladies made many demurs. Ethel wanted Mary to go in her stead, and had to be told that this would not be by any means the same to the other parties--she could not bear to leave Margaret; it was a long time since there had been letters from the Alcestis, and she did not like to miss being at home when they should come; and Meta, on her side, was so unwilling to leave her father that, at last, Dr. May scolded them both for a pair of conceited, self-important damsels, who thought nothing could go on without them; and next, compared them to young birds, obliged to be shoved by force into flying.
Meta consented first, on condition that Ethel would; and Ethel found that her whole house would be greatly disappointed if she refused, so she proceeded to be grateful, and then discovered how extremely delightful the plan was. Oxford, of which she had heard so much, and which she had always wished to see! And Norman's glory--and
