For such an assertion John Morton
knew there was not a shadow of ground. No one but this old woman
had ever suspected that the Canadian girl whom Reginald's father
had brought with him to Bragton had been other than his honest
wife;--and her suspicions had only come from vague assertions, made
by herself in blind anger till at last she had learned to believe
them. Then, when in addition to this, he asserted his purpose of
asking Arabella Trefoil to come to him at Bragton, the cup of her
wrath was overflowing, and she withdrew from the house altogether.
It might be that he was dying. She did in truth believe that he was
dying. But there were things more serious to her than life or
death. Should she allow him to trample upon all her feelings
because he was on his death-bed,--when perhaps in very truth he
might not be on his death-bed at all? She, at any rate, was near
her death,--and she would do her duty. So she packed up her
things--to the last black skirt of an old gown, so that every one
at Bragton might know that it was her purpose to come back no more.
And she went away.
Then Lady Ushant came to take her place, and with Lady Ushant came
Reginald Morton. The one lived in the house and the other visited
it daily. And, as the reader knows, Lady Augustus came with her
daughter. Mrs. Morton, though she had gone,--for ever,--took care
to know of the comings and goings at Bragton.
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