he acuteness of the pang
she inflicted, and accepted the generous offer with warm protestations
of joy and gratitude. But Sophy! Sophy consent to leave her grandfather
afar and aged in his solitary cottage! Little did either of them know
Sophy, with her soft heart and determined soul, if they supposed such
egotism possible in her. Waife insisted--Waife was angry--Waife was
authoritative--Waife was imploring--Waife was pathetic--all in vain!
But to close every argument, the girl went boldly to Lady Montfort,
and said: "If I left him, his heart would break--never ask it." Lady
Montfort kissed Sophy tenderly as mother ever kissed a child for some
sweet loving trait of a noble nature, and said simply "But he shall not
be left--he shall come too."

She offered Waife rooms in her Twickenham house--she wished to collect
books--he should be librarian. The old man shivered and refused--refused
firmly. He had made a vow not to be a guest in any house. Finally,
the matter was compromised; Waife would remove to the neighbourhood of
Twickenham; there hire a cottage; there ply his art; and Sophy, living
with him, should spend part of each day with Lady Montfort as now.

So it was resolved. Waife consented to occupy a small house on the verge
of the grounds belonging to the jointure villa, on the condition of
paying rent for it. And George Morley insisted on the privilege of
preparing that house for his old teacher's reception, leaving it simple
and rustic to outward appearance, but fitting its pleasant chambers with
all that his knowledge of the old man's tastes and habits suggested
for comfort or humble luxury; a room for Sophy, hung with the prettiest
paper, all butterflies and flowers, commanding a view of the river.
Waife, despite his proud scruples, could not refuse such gifts from a
man whose fortune and career had been secured by his artful lessons.
Indeed, he had already permitted George to assist, though not largely,
his own efforts to repay the L100 advanced by Mrs. Crane. The years
he had devoted to a craft which his ingenuity made lucrative, had just
enabled the basketmaker, with his pupil's aid, to clear off that debt
by instalments. He had the satisfaction of thinking that it was his
industry that had replaced the sum to which his grandchild owed her
release from the execrable Rugge.

Lady Montfort's departure (which preceded Waife's by some weeks) was
more mourned by the poor in her immediate neighbourhood than by th