oner in London, than she wrote to Mary, inviting her to
go and visit her. But Mary answered she could no more leave home, and
must content herself with the hope of seeing Mrs. Redmain when she came
to Durnmelling.

So long as her husband lived, the time for that did not again arrive;
but when Mary went to London, she always called on her, and generally
saw Mr. Redmain. But they never had any more talk about the things Mary
loved most. That he continued to think of those things, she had one
ground of hoping, namely, the kindness with which he invariably
received her, and the altogether gentler manner he wore as often and as
long as she saw him. Whether the change was caused by something better
than physical decay, who knows save him who can use even decay for
redemption? He lived two years more, and died rather suddenly. After
his death, and that of her father, which followed soon, Hesper went
again to Durnmelling, and behaved better to her mother than before.
Mary sometimes saw her, and a flicker of genuine friendship began to
appear on Hesper's part.

Mr. Turnbull was soon driving what he called a roaring trade. He bought
and sold a great deal more than Mary, but she had business sufficient
to employ her days, and leave her nights free, and bring her and Letty
enough to live on as comfortably as they desired--with not a little
over, to use, when occasion was, for others, and something to lay by
for the time of lengthening shadows.

Turnbull seemed to hare taken a lesson from his late narrow escape, for
he gave up the worst of his speculations, and confined himself to
"_genuine business-principles_"--the more contentedly that, all Marston
folly swept from his path, he was free to his own interpretation of the
phrase. He grew a rich man, and died happy--so his friends said, and
said as they saw. Mrs. Turnbull left Testbridge, and went to live in a
small county-town where she was unknown. There she was regarded as the
widow of an officer in her Majesty's service, and, as there was no one
within a couple of hundred miles to support an assertion to the
contrary, she did not think it worth her while to make one: was not the
supposed brevet a truer index to her consciousness of herself than the
actual ticket by ill luck attached to her--Widow of a linen-draper?

George carried on the business; and, when Mary and he happened to pass
in the street, they nodded to each other.

Letty was diligent in business, but it never go