Tired of reading? Add this page to your Bookmarks or Favorites and finish it later.
|
|
Ellinor had once more sunk into her old depressed passive state; Mr.
Ness and Miss Monro, modest and undecided as they both were in
general, had to fix and arrange everything for her. Her great
interest seemed to be in the old servant Dixon, and her great
pleasure to lie in seeing him, and talking over old times; so her two
friends talked about her, little knowing what a bitter, stinging pain
her "pleasure" was. In vain Ellinor tried to plan how they could
take Dixon with them to East Chester. If he had been a woman it
would have been a feasible step; but they were only to keep one
servant, and Dixon, capable and versatile as he was, would not do for
that servant. All this was what passed through Ellinor's mind: it
is still a question whether Dixon would have felt his love of his
native place, with all its associations and remembrances, or his love
for Ellinor, the stronger. But he was not put to the proof; he was
only told that he must leave, and seeing Ellinor's extreme grief at
the idea of their separation, he set himself to comfort her by every
means in his power, reminding her, with tender choice of words, how
necessary it was that he should remain on the spot, in Mr.
Osbaldistone's service, in order to frustrate, by any small influence
he might have, every project of alteration in the garden that
contained the dreadful secret. He persisted in this view, though
Ellinor repeated, with pertinacious anxiety, the care which Mr.
Johnson had taken, in drawing up the lease, to provide against any
change or alteration being made in the present disposition of the
house or grounds.
People in general were rather astonished at the eagerness Miss
Wilkins showed to sell all the Ford Bank furniture. Even Miss Monro
was a little scandalized at this want of sentiment, although she said
nothing about it; indeed justified the step, by telling every one how
wisely Ellinor was acting, as the large, handsome, tables and chairs
would be very much out of place and keeping with the small, oddly-shaped
rooms of their future home in East Chester Close. None knew
how strong was the instinct of self-preservation, it may almost be
called, which impelled Ellinor to shake off, at any cost of present
pain, the incubus of a terrible remembrance. She wanted to go into
an unhaunted dwelling in a free, unknown country--she felt as if it
was her only chance of sanity. Sometimes she thought her senses
would not hold together till the time when all these arrangements
were ended. But she did not speak to any one about her feelings,
poor child; to whom could she speak on the subject but to Dixon? Nor
did she define them to herself. All she knew was, that she was as
nearly going mad as possible; and if she did, she feared that she
might betray her father's guilt. All this time she never cried, or
varied from her dull, passive demeanour. And they were blessed tears
of relief that she shed when Miss Monro, herself weeping bitterly,
told her to put her head out of the post-chaise window, for at the
next turning of the road they would catch the last glimpse of Hamley
church spire.
|