he got it into her head that Little despised her. Upon this
she was angry with him for not seeing what a sacrifice she had made,
and for despising her, instead of admiring her a little, and pitying
her ever so much. The old story in short--a girl vexed with a man for
letting her throw dust in his eyes.
And, if she was vexed with Little for not appreciating her sacrifice,
she was quite as angry with Coventry and Jael for being the causes of
that unappreciated sacrifice. So then she was irritable and cross. But
she could not be that long: so she fell into a languid, listless state:
and then she let herself drift. She never sent Jael to the church again.
Mr. Coventry watched all her moods; and when she reached the listless
stage, he came softly on again, and began to recover his lost ground.
On the fifth of January occurred a rather curious coincidence. In
Hillsborough Dr. Amboyne offered his services to Mrs. Little to
reconcile her and her brother. Mrs. Little feared the proposal came too
late: but showed an inclination to be reconciled for Henry's sake. But
Henry said he would never be reconciled to a man who had insulted his
mother. He then reminded her she had sent him clandestinely into Raby
Hall to see her picture. "And what did I see? Your picture was
turned with its face to the wall, and insulting words written on the
back--'Gone into trade.' I didn't mean to tell yell, mother; but you see
I have. And, after that, you may be reconciled to the old scoundrel
if you like; but don't ask me." Mrs. Little was deeply wounded by this
revelation. She tried to make light of it, but failed. She had been a
beauty, and the affront was too bitter. Said she, "You mustn't judge him
like other people: he was always so very eccentric. Turn my picture to
the wall! My poor picture! Oh, Guy, Guy, could one mother have borne you
and me?" Amboyne had not a word more to say; he was indignant himself.
Now that very afternoon, as if by the influence of what they call a
brain-wave, Grace Carden, who felt herself much stronger with Mr. Raby
than when she first came, was moved to ask him, with many apologies, and
no little inward tremor, whether she might see the other side of that
very picture before she went.
"What for?"
"Don't be angry, uncle dear. Curiosity."
"I do not like to refuse you anything, Grace. But--Well, if I lend you
the key, will you satisfy your curiosity, and then replace the picture
as it is?"
"Yes, I wil
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