a peace which the world, with all its wealth and favours, can neither
make nor mar.

In one of Margaret's hedgerow rambles with Philip, a few days after his
mother's funeral, she had been strongly urged to leave Deerbrook and its
troubles behind her--to marry at once, and be free from the trials from
which he could not protect her, if she remained in the same place with
Mrs Rowland. But Margaret steadily refused.

"You will be wretched," said Philip; "you will be wretched--I know you
will--the moment I am gone."

"I never was less likely to be wretched. Mrs Rowland cannot make me
so, and other people will not. I have every expectation of a happy
summer, which I mention for your sake; for I do not like to indulge in
that sort of anticipation without some such good reason as comforting
you."

"You cannot be happy here. Priscilla will never let you have an easy
day, while she fancies she can separate us. When I think of the
pertinacity with which she disowns you, the scorn with which she speaks
about you, even in my presence, I see that nothing will do but your
being mine at once."

"That would not mend the matter. Our haste and imprudence would go to
countenance the scandal she spreads. Why cannot we rather live it
down?"

"Because your spirit will be broken in the mean time. Margaret, I must
be your guardian. This is my first duty, and an absolute necessity. If
you will not go with me, I will not leave this place: and if my plan of
life is broken up, you will be answerable for it. It was your plan, and
you may demolish it if you choose."

"I have a plan of life, too," said Margaret. "It is to do the duty that
lies nearest at hand; and the duty that lies nearest at hand is, to keep
you up to yours. After this, there is one which lies almost as close, I
cannot leave Hester and Edward till this crisis in their fortunes is
past. I am bound to them for the present."

"What are their claims to mine?"

"Nothing, if they were fortunate, as I trust they yet may be;--nothing,
if you had followed your plan of life up to the point when we may carry
it out together. We are wrong, Philip, in even thinking of what you
say. You must go and study law, and you must go without me. Indeed, I
could not be happy to join you yet. Your good name would suffer from
what Mrs Rowland might then say. Your future prospects would suffer
from the interruption of your preparation for your profession. I should
feel that