"Yes. I have seen most of the post-marks--and the interiors--upside down. But Mrs Rowland was always there--or else Phoebe."

"And have you really known nothing about me whatever?"

"Little George told me that you had lessons to learn, very hard and very long, and, if possible, more difficult than his."

"And did not you see then that I was acting upon your views?"

"I supposed Miss Bruce might have had them first."

"Miss Bruce!" he cried, in a tone of annoyance. "I know nothing of Miss Bruce's views on any subject. I cannot conceive how my sister got such a notion into her head--why she selected her."

Margaret was going to mention the "sisterly affection" which had long subsisted between Miss Bruce and Mrs Rowland, according to the latter; but it occurred to her that it was just possible that Philip might not be altogether so indifferent to Miss Bruce as Miss Bruce was to him; and this thought sealed her lips.

"I wonder whether Rowland believed it all the time," said Philip: "and Hope? It was unworthy of Hope's judgment--of his faith--to view the case so wrongly."

"I am glad you are beginning to be angry with somebody else," said Margaret. "Your wrath seemed all to be for me: but your old friends, even to your mother, appear to have had no doubt about the matter."

"There is an excuse for them which I thought you had not. I am an altered man, Margaret--you cannot conceive how altered since I began to know you. They judged of me by what I was once... We will not say how lately."

"I a.s.sure you I do not forget the accounts you used to give of yourself."

"What accounts?"

"Of how you found life pleasant enough without philosophy and without anything to do... and other wise sayings of the kind."

"It is by such things that those who knew me long ago have judged me lately--a retribution which I ought not to complain of. If they believed me fickle, idle, selfish, it is all fair. Oh! Margaret, men know nothing of morals till they know women."

"Are you serious?"

"I am solemnly persuaded of it. Happy they who grow up beside mothers and sisters whom they can revere! But for this, almost all men would be without earnestness of heart--without a moral purpose--without generosity, while they are all the while talking of honour. It was so with me before I knew you. I am feeble enough, and selfish enough yet, G.o.d knows! but I hope still to prove that you have made a man of me, out of a light, selfish... But what right have I, you may think, to ask you to rely upon me, when I have so lately been what I tell you. I did not mean to ask you yet. This very morning, nothing could be further from my intentions. I do not know how long I should have waited before I should have dared. My sister has rendered me an inestimable service amidst all the mischief she did me. I thank her. Ah! Margaret, you smile!"

Margaret smiled again. The smile owned that she was thinking the same thing about their obligations to Mrs Rowland.

"Whatever you might have said to me this evening," continued Philip, "if your regard for me had proved to have been quite overthrown--if you had continued to despise me, as you must have done at times--I should still have blessed you, all my life--I should have worshipped you, as the being who opened a new world to me. You lifted me out of a life of trifling--of trifling which I thought very elegant at the time--trifling with my own time and faculties--trifling with other people's serious business--trifling with something more serious still, I fear--with their feelings. As far as I remember, I thought all this manly and refined enough: and but for you, I should have thought so still. You early opened my eyes to all the meanness and gross selfishness of such a life: and if you were never to let me see you again, I believe I could not fall back into the delusion. But if you will be the guide of my life--"

Margaret sighed deeply. Even at this moment of vital happiness, her thoughts rested on her sister. She remembered what Hester's antic.i.p.ations had been, in prospect of having Edward for the guide of her life.

"I frighten you, I see," said Philip, "with my confessions; but, be the consequences what they may, I must speak, Margaret. If you despise me, I must do you the justice, and give myself the consolation, of acknowledging what I have been, and what I owe to you."

"It is not that," said Margaret. "Let the past go. Let it be forgotten in reaching forward to better things. But do not let us be confident about the future. I have seen too much of that. We must not provide for disappointment. Let us leave it till it comes. Surely," she added, with a gentle smile, "we have enough for the present. I cannot look forward yet."

"How you must have suffered!" cried Philip, in a tone of grief. "You have lost some of your confidence, love. You did not cling to the present, and shrink from the future when... Oh, it is bitter, even now, to think, that while I was working on, in hope and resolution, you were suffering here, making it a duty to extinguish your regard for me, I all the time toiling to deserve it--and there was no one to set us right, and the whole world in league to divide us."

"That is all over now."

"But not the consequences, Margaret. They have shaken you: they have made you know doubt and fear."

"We are both changed, Philip. We are older, and I trust it will appear that we are wiser than we were. Yes, older. There are times in one's life when days do the work of years and our days have been of that kind.

You have discovered a new life, and my wishes and expectations are much altered. They may not be fewer, or less bright, but they are very different."

"If they were pure from fears--"

"They are pure from fears. At this moment I can fear nothing. We have been brought together by the unquestionable Providence which rules our lives; and this is enough. The present is all right; and the future, which is to come out of it, will be all right in its way. I have no fear--but I do not want to antic.i.p.ate. This hour with its satisfactions, is all that I can bear."

Notwithstanding this, and Philip's transport in learning it, they did go back, again and again, into the past; and many a glance did they cast into the future. There was no end to their revelations of the circ.u.mstances of the last two months, and of the interior history which belonged to them. At last, the burning out of one of the candles startled them into a recollection of how long their conversation had lasted, and of the suspense in which Edward and Hester had been kept.

Enderby offered to go and tell them the fact which they must be antic.i.p.ating: and, after having agreed that no one else should know at present--that Miss Bruce's name should be allowed to die out of Deerbrook speculations, for Mrs Rowland's sake, before any other was put in its place, Philip left his Margaret, and went into the breakfast-room, where his presence was not wholly unexpected.

In five minutes, Margaret heard the hall door shut, and, in another moment, her brother and sister came to her. Hester's face was all smiles and tears: her mind all tumult with the vivid recollection of her own first hours of happy hopeful love, mingled with the griefs which always lay heavy within her, and with that warm attachment to her sister which circ.u.mstances occasionally exalted into a pa.s.sion.

"We ought to rejoice with nothing but joy, Margaret," said she: "but I cannot see how we are to spare you. I do not believe I can live without you."

Her husband started at this echo of the thoughts for which he was at the moment painfully rebuking himself. He had nothing to say; but gave his greeting in a brotherly kiss, like that which he had offered on his marriage with her sister, and on his entrance upon his home.

"How quiet, how very quiet she is!" exclaimed Hester, an Margaret left the room, after a few words on the events of the evening, and a calm good-night. "I hope it is all right. I hope she is quite satisfied."

"Satisfied is the word," said her husband. "People are quiet when they are relieved--calm when they are satisfied--people like Margaret. It is only great minds, I believe, which feel real satisfaction."

Hester gave him pain by a deep sigh. She was thinking how seldom, and for how short a time, she had ever felt real satisfaction.

"And how often, and for how long," she asked, "do great minds find themselves in that heaven?"

"By the blessing of G.o.d, not seldom, I trust," replied he; "though not so often as, by obeying their nature, they might. Intellectual satisfaction is perhaps not for this world, except in a few of the inspired hours of the Newtons and the Bacons, who are sent to teach what the human intellect is. But as often as a great mind meets with full moral sympathy--as often as it is loved in return for love--as often as it confides itself unreservedly to the good Power which bestowed its existence, and appointed all its attributes, I imagine it must repose in satisfaction."

"Then satisfaction ought to be no new feeling to Margaret," said Hester.

"She always loves every one: she meets with sympathy wherever she turns; and I believe she has faith enough for a martyr, without knowing it. Ought not she--must not she, have often felt real satisfaction?"

"Yes."

"I wonder you dole out your words so sparingly about such a being as Margaret," said Hester, resentfully. "I can tell you, Edward, though you take so coolly the privilege of having such a one so nearly connected with you, you might search the world in vain for her equal.

You little know the wealth of her heart and soul, Edward. I ask you whether she does not deserve to feel full satisfaction of conscience and affections, and you just answer 'Yes,' with as much languor as if I had asked you whether the clock has struck eleven yet! I can tell you this--I have said in my own heart, and just to Morris, for years, that the happiest man of his generation will be he who has Margaret for a wife: and here you, who ought to know this, give me a grudging 'Yes,' in answer to the first question, arising out of my reverence for Margaret, that I ever asked you!"

"You mistake me," replied Hope, in a tone of gentleness which touched her very soul. "One's words may be restrained by reverence as well as by want of heart. I regard Margaret with a reverence which I should not have thought it necessary to put into words for your conviction."

"Oh, I am wrong--as I always am!" cried Hester. "You must forgive me again, as you do far, far too often. But tell me, Edward, ought not Margaret's husband to be the happiest man living?"

"Yes," said Edward, with a smile. "Will that do this time?"

"Oh, yes, yes," replied she--the thought pa.s.sing through her mind, that, whether or not her husband excepted himself as a matter of course, she should not have asked a question to which she could not bear all possible answers. Even if he meant that Margaret's husband might be a happier man than himself, it was only too true. As quick as lightning these thoughts pa.s.sed through her mind, and, apparently without a pause, she went on, "And now, as to Enderby--is he worthy to be this happy husband? Does he deserve her?"

Mr Hope did pause before he replied:

"I think we had better dwell as little as we can on that point of the story--not because I am afraid--(do not take fright and suppose I mean more than I say)--not because I am afraid, but because we can do nothing, discern nothing, about it. Time must show what Enderby is--or rather, what he has the power of becoming. Meanwhile, the thing is settled. They love and have promised, and are happy. Let us shun all comparison of the one with the other of them, and hope everything from him."

"There will be some amus.e.m.e.nt," said Hester, after a smiling reverie, "in having this secret to ourselves for a time, while all the rest of Deerbrook is so busy with a different idea and expectation. How _will_ Mrs Rowland bear it?"

"Mrs Grey might have said that," said Hope, laughing.

"Well, but is it not true? Will it not be very amusing to see the circulation of stories about Miss Bruce, given 'from the best authority,' and to have all manner of news told us about Philip; and to watch how Mrs Rowland will get out of the sc.r.a.pe she is in? Surely, Edward, you are not above being amused with all this?"