ead, gave her memory a softness that almost
enabled Violet to think of her in Lady Martindale's point of view,
forget her harshness, and the worldly pride for her niece and her
family, to which she had sacrificed their best happiness.

It was a melancholy retrospect. Mrs. Nesbit might be said to have
perfectly succeeded in the object of her life. She had formed her
beloved niece, like the fabled image of snow, moulded by the enchanter
and animated by no will but his, and had seen her attain the summit of
her wishes, universally admired and distinguished for every talent and
grace; while still completely under her influence, and as affectionate
and devoted as ever. Could any desire be more fully attained? But there
had ever been further craving, disappointment, combats, hatred,
avarice, disgust; and with all around that could make old age happy and
honourable, it had been a querulous melancholy struggle for power, spent
in clutching at the toys that had no pleasure in them--in trying to
force worldly advantages on those who cared not for them, then revenging
their indifference as a personal insult. She had sunk into the grave
without any one having the power to regret her save that one fond,
faithful niece, the one creature she had always regarded with genuine
unselfish affection.

Lord Martindale, whose wife she had ruled, and whose children had been
made unhappy by her, could hardly help owning to himself that her death
was a relief to him; and Arthur barely made a fair show of moderate
respect, in his anxiety for the property that would free him from
embarrassment. His first inquiry was whether the will were burnt. No,
it was in the hands of a lawyer, who would bring it on the day of the
funeral. Lord Martindale might look reprovingly at Arthur's eagerness,
but the matter was no less important to him. He had begun life with an
expenditure as large as his income could bear; and as his children
had grown up, and unprosperous times had come, he had not been able to
contract his expenses. Of late he had almost been in difficulty as to
the means of meeting the calls for the year, economy was a thing unknown
and uncomprehended by his wife; and the giving up the house in London
had been the only reduction he could accomplish. No one else in the
family had an idea of self-denial except Theodora, who, perceiving how
matters stood, had refused to have a maid of her own, and had begged him
no longer to keep a horse for her. Som