Part 127 (1/2)
”You cannot wish it as heartily as I,” returned George. ”A little while, my darling, and things will be bright again. I have been earnestly and constantly seeking for something to do in London; I was obliged to be there. Now that I have this place given me, I must be there still, chiefly, until we sail, making my preparations. You can come to me if you like, until we do go,” he added, ”if you would rather be there than here. I can change my bachelor lodgings, and get a place large enough for you and Meta.”
She felt that she was not equal to the removal, and she felt that if she really were to leave Europe she must remain this short intervening time near her father and mother. But--even as she thought it--the conviction came upon her, firm and strong, that she never should leave it; should not live to leave it. George's voice, eager and hopeful, interrupted.
”We shall begin life anew in India, Maria: with the old country we shall leave old sores behind us. As to Margery--I don't know what's to be done about her. It would half break her heart to drag her to a new land, and quite break it to carry off Meta from her. Perhaps we had better not attempt to influence her either way, but let the decision rest entirely with her.”
”She will never face the live elephants,” said Maria, her lips smiling at the joke, as she endeavoured to be gay and hopeful as George was. But the effort entirely failed. A vision came over her of George there _alone_; herself in the cold grave, whither she believed she was surely hastening; Meta--ay--what of Meta?
”Oh, George! if I might but get strong! if I might but live to go with you!” she cried in a wail of agony.
”Hush, hus.h.!.+ Maria, hus.h.!.+ I must not scold you: but indeed it is not right to give way to these low spirits. That of itself will keep you back. Shall I take you to town with me when I return to-morrow, just for a week's change? I know it would partially bring you round, and we would make s.h.i.+ft in my rooms for the time. Margery will take care of Meta here.”
She knew how worse than useless was the thought of attempting it; she saw that George could not be brought to understand her excessive weakness. A faint hope came across her that, now that the uncertainty of his future prospects was removed, she might grow better. That uncertainty had been distressing her sick heart for months.
She subdued her emotion and sat down in the chair quietly, saying that she was not strong enough to go up with him this time: it would be a change in one sense for her, she added, thinking of the new life; and then she began to talk of other things.
”Did you see Reginald before he sailed?”
”Not immediately before it, I think.”
”You are aware that he has gone as a common seaman?”
”Yes. By the way, there's no knowing what I may be able to do for Regy out there, and for Isaac too, perhaps. Once I am in a good position I shall be able to a.s.sist them--and I'll do it. Regy hates the sea: I'll get him something more to his taste in Calcutta.”
Maria's face flushed with hope, and she clasped her nervous hands together. ”If you could, George! how thankful I should be! I think of poor Regy and his hard life night and day.”
”Which is not good for you by any means, young lady. I wish you'd get out of that habit of thinking and fretting about others. It has been just poor Thomas's fault.”
She answered by a faint smile. ”Has Thomas given you his ring?” she asked.
”He gave it me this afternoon,” replied George, taking it from his pocket. It was a ring with a bright green stone, on which was engraved the arms of the G.o.dolphins. Sir George had worn it always, and it came to Thomas at his death: now it had come to George.
”You do not wear it, George.”
”Not yet. I cannot bear to put it on my finger while Thomas lives. In point of fact, I have no right to do so--at least to use the signet: it belongs exclusively to the head of the G.o.dolphins.”
”Do you see Mrs. Pain often?” Maria presently said, with apparent indifference. But George little knew the fluttering emotion that had been working within, or the effort it had taken to subdue that emotion ere the question could be put.
”I see her sometimes; not often. She gets me to ride with her in the Park now and then.”
”Does she continue to reside with the Verralls?”
”I suppose so. I have not heard her mention anything about it.”
”George, I have wondered where Mrs. Pain's money comes from,” Maria resumed in a dreamy tone. ”It was said in the old days, you know, that the report of her having thirty thousand pounds was false; that she had nothing.”
”I don't believe she had a penny,” returned George. ”As to her income, I fancy it is drawn from Verrall. Mrs. Pain's husband was connected in some business way with Verrall, and I suppose she still benefits by it.
I know nothing whatever, but I have thought it must be so. Listen!”
George raised his hand as he abruptly spoke, for a distinct sound had broken upon his ear. Springing to the window he threw it open. The death-bell of All Souls' was booming out over Prior's Ash.