Agworth cost her extreme suffering; she was
prostrate, almost lifeless, for three days after it. But her son's
society revived her. Knowing him established in his family possessions,
she only cared to taste for a little while this unhoped-for joy. Lying
on a couch in her familiar chamber, she delighted to have flowers
brought to her from the garden, even leaves from the dear old trees,
every one of which she knew as a friend. But she had constant thought
for those upon whose disaster her own happiness was founded; of Adela
she spoke often.

'What will become of that poor child?' she asked one evening, when
Hubert had been speaking of Rodman's impracticable attitude, and of
the proceedings Mutimer was about to take. 'Do you know anything of her
life, Hubert?'

'I met her in the wood here a few weeks ago,' he replied, mentioning the
incident for the first time. 'She wanted to make a Socialist of me.'

'Was that after the will came to light?'

'The day after. She pleaded for New Wanley--hoped I should keep it up.'

'Then she has really accepted her husband's views?'

'It seems so. I am afraid she thought me an obstinate tyrant.'

He spoke carelessly.

'But she must not suffer, dear. How can they be helped?'

'They can't fall into absolute want. And I suppose his Socialist friends
will do something for him. I have been as considerate as it was
possible to be. I dare say he will make me a commonplace in his lectures
henceforth, a type of the brutal capitalist.'

He laughed when he had said it, and led the conversation to another
subject.

About the workmen, too, Mrs. Eldon was kindly thoughtful. Hubert spared
her his prejudices and merely described what he was doing. She urged him
to be rather too easy than too exacting with them. It was the same in
everything; the blessing which had fallen upon her made her full of
gentleness and sweet charity.

The fortnight's grace was at an end, and it was announced to Hubert
that the last family had left New Wanley. The rain still continued;
as evening set in Hubert returned from an inspection of the deserted
colony, his spirits weighed upon by the scene of desolation. After
dinner he sat as usual with his mother for a couple of hours, then went
to his own room and read till eleven o'clock. Just as he had thrown
aside his book the silence of the night was riven by a terrific yell,
a savage cry of many voices, which came from the garden in the front
of the house, and at th