wrote also to Mrs Esselmont, whom he had known long and well. He
had known her best in her youth, when, as he said to himself, she had
kept as firm a grip of the good things of this life as most folk. He
assured her that there was no reason, either in law or in morals, why
Allison Bain should not have and hold, and make a good use of all that
her husband had left to her, and he believed that no one would be so
well able to set all this before her as Mrs Esselmont, since, as he had
heard, she had for some time taken an interest in the young woman; and
then he added:
"She has both sense and discretion, except with regard to this one
matter She has been living a repressed sort of life of late,--indeed
from all that I can gather, she never has had any other kind of life,
which goes far to account for her hesitation--I will not say refusal--to
receive what is rightfully hers. I think that she is afraid of the
responsibility, and that she is not sure of herself, or of doing well
the duties of a higher station. But she would soon learn to have
confidence in herself; and with the friendship and the countenance of
Mrs Esselmont, she need care little for the favour or disfavour of any
of the rest."
Mrs Esselmont smiled as she read. If such a letter had come to her in
the days when Mr Rainy knew her best--when she was young--when she had
influence in her own circle, and liked well to exercise it, she might
have been moved by it even more than it moved her now. For she _was_
moved by it. She had seen and known enough of Allison Bain to cause her
to assent willingly to Mr Rainy's opinion, that under favourable
circumstances she might hold her own in a position very different from
that which she had hitherto occupied.
She had not known Allison during her first months at the manse, when,
under the terrible strain of sorrow and fear, she had seemed to break
down and lose herself. It was the sight of her beautiful, sad face as
she sat in the kirk, that had first touched Mrs Esselmont, and
afterward, her firm and gentle dealing with the child Marjorie. Later
on she had learned to know well and to admire,--yes, and to love dearly,
this reticent, self-respecting, young woman who was living under her
roof, a child's nurse--a servant,--yet who in all her words and ways
showed herself to be a true lady.
Such help as she could give, she would gladly give to Allison, should
she of her own free will choose wealth and a higher p
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