Mrs. Little saw her son arrive, met him in the hall, and embraced him, with a great cry of maternal joy, that did his heart good for a moment.
He had to tell her all; and, during the recital, she often clasped him to her bosom.
When he had told her all, she said: "Much as I love you, darling, I am ready to part with you for good: there is a cure for all your griefs; there is a better woman in this house than ever Grace Carden was or will be. Be a man; shake off these miserable trammels; leave that vacillating girl to nurse her villain, and marry the one I have chosen for you."
Henry shook his head. "What! when a few months perhaps will free my Grace from her incumbrance. Mother, you are giving me bad advice for once."
"Unwelcome advice, dear, not bad. Will you consult Dr. Amboyne? he sleeps here to-night. He often comes here now, you know." Then the widow colored just a little.
"Oh yes, I know; and I approve."
Dr. Amboyne came to dinner. In the course of the evening he mentioned his patient Coventry, and said he would never walk again, his spine was too seriously injured.
"How soon will he die? that is what I want to know," said Henry, with that excessive candor which the polite reader has long ago discovered in him, and been shocked.
"Oh, he may live for years. But what a life! An inert mass below the waist, and, above it, a sick heart, and a brain as sensitive as ever to realize the horrid calamity. Even I, who know and abhor the man's crimes, shudder at the punishment Heaven inflicts on him."
There was dead silence round the table, and Little was observed to turn pale.
He was gloomy and silent all the evening.
Next morning, directly after breakfast, his mother got him, and implored him not to waste his youth any longer.
"The man will never die," said she: "he will wear you out. You have great energy and courage; but you have not a woman's humble patience, to go on, year after year, waiting for an event you can not hasten by a single moment. Do you not see it is hopeless? End your misery by one brave plunge. Speak to dear Jael."
"I can't--I can't!"
"Then let me."
"Will it make you happy?"
"Very happy. Nothing else can."
"Will it make her happy?"
"As happy as a queen."
"She deserves a better fate."
"She asks no better. There, unless you stop me, I shall speak to her."
"Well, well," said Henry, very wearily.
Mrs. Little went to the door.
"Wait a moment," said he. "How about Uncle Raby? He has been a good friend to me. I have offended him once, and it was the worst job I ever did. I won't offend him again."
"How can you offend him by marrying Jael?"
"What, have you forgotten how angry he was when Mr. Richard Raby proposed to her? There, I'll go and speak to him."
"Well, do."
He was no sooner gone than Mrs. Little stepped into Jael's room, and told her how matters stood.
Jael looked dismayed, and begged her on no account to proceed:
"For," said she, "if Mr. Henry was to ask me, I should say No. He would always be hankering after Miss Carden: and, pray don't be angry with me, but I think I'm worth a man's whole heart; for I could love one very dearly, if he loved me."
Mrs. Little was deeply mortified. "This I did NOT expect," said she. "Well, if you are all determined to be miserable--BE."
Henry hunted up Mr. Raby, and asked him bluntly whether he would like him to marry Jael Dence.
Raby made no reply for some time, and his features worked strangely.
"Has she consented to be your wife?"
"I have never asked her. But I will, if you wish it."
"Wish it?"
"Why, sir, if you don't wish it, please forbid it, and let us say no more at all about it."
"Excuse me," said Raby, with his grandest air: "a gentleman may dislike a thing, yet not condescend to forbid it."
"That is true, sir; and an ex-workman may appreciate his delicacy, and give the thing up at once. I will die a bachelor."
"Henry, my boy, give me your hand--I'll tell you the truth. I love her myself. She is a pattern of all I admire in woman."
"Uncle, I suspected this, to tell the truth. Well, if you love her--marry her."
"What, without her consent?"
"Oh, she will consent. Order her to marry you: she will never disobey the Lord of the Manor."
"That is what I fear: and it is base to take advantage of her in that way."
"You are right, sir," said Henry, and ran off directly.
He found Jael, and said, "Jael, dear, couldn't you like Uncle Raby? he loves you dearly."
He then appealed to her heart, and spoke of his uncle's nobleness in fearing to obtain an unfair advantage over her.
To his surprise, Jael blushed deeply, and her face softened angelically, and presently a tear ran down it.
"Hallo!" said Henry. "That is the game, is it? You stay here."
He ran back to Mr. Raby, and said: "I've made a discovery. She loves you, sir. I'll take my oath of it. You go and ask her."
"I will," said Raby; and he went to Jael, like a man, and said, "Jael, he has found me out; I love you dearly. I'm old, but I'm not cold. Do you think you could be happy as my wife, with all the young fellows admiring you?"
"Sir" said Jael, "I wouldn't give your little finger for all the young men in Christendom. Once I thought a little too much of Mr. Henry, but that was over long ago. And since you saved my life, and cried over me in this very room, you have been in my head and in my heart; but I wouldn't show it; for I had vowed I never would let any man know my heart till he showed me his."
In short, this pair were soon afterward seen walking arm in arm, radiant with happiness.
That sight was too much for Henry Little. The excitement of doing a kind thing, and making two benefactors happy, had borne him up till now; but the reaction came: the contrast of their happiness with his misery was too poignant. He had not even courage to bid them good-by, but fled back to Hillsborough, in anguish of spirit and deep despair.
When he got home, there was a note from Grace Carden.
"MY OWN DEAREST HENRY,--I find that you have called, and been denied me; and that Mr. Coventry has been admitted into the house.
"I have therefore left Woodbine Villa, and taken lodgings opposite.