Chapter VII: A Pleasant Ending

MY task was a very pleasant one. I had to tell my parents that Aunt Milly, acting on their advice, had made many inquiries respecting her late husband's nephews; and that all she had heard confirmed my father's account, especially of William, who, everybody said, was a kinsman to be proud of.

So then Aunt Milly had written to him, just in her own brave, frank way, alluding to past differences between the elder people only so far as was needful, and expressing her hope that they would agree with her in forgetting them, and beginning a new life of friendship.

When my father and mother heard this they were delighted.

"Time will do the rest," exclaimed papa. "All will work right now, and there will soon be no question about the inheritance of Denesfield. Aunt Milly will find a son in William Dene."

And so, in the end, it proved. William's mother and brothers also came to visit my aunt. The widowed mother had no longer to pinch and contrive for the education of her children, for Aunt Milly did nothing by halves. She at once made an ample provision for her sister-in-law and the younger boys, but "William," she said, "I must look after myself. He is so like what my dear husband was when I first knew him."

I think that year was one of the happiest I ever spent during my early life. Every day that William Dene was with us, we saw more and more of the truth and goodness of his character. By degrees, Aunt Milly learned to consult and trust him just as a mother does a beloved son. How proud, too, she was of his college honours! Indeed, I doubt whether his own mother, who was of a very quiet, placid disposition, thought as much of her son's well-won place as did Aunt Milly.

One day, during the long vacation, my aunt said to him, "William, when will your birthday be?"

"Did I never tell you, aunt?" said he. "I am a Christmas child. I was born on the twenty-fifth of December."

"And you will be of age next Christmas?"

"Yes, aunt; and I come into my whole inheritance at once. A pair of long legs that can get over as much ground as most, a pair of strong hands, and a head which I have done my best to furnish. These are my capital and stock to trade with, and I hope they will bring me a fair return."

"Not to be despised, William: good health, good education, and the will to use them in a right way, are things to thank God for with all one's heart."

"I feel that, dear aunt; and there is another blessing I have to thank you for—an easy mind. You have removed the anxieties I used to have about my mother and the boys by your generous kindness to them."

My aunt put her hand to his lips to hinder the further expression of thanks.

"Do not speak of that, William," she replied. "It reminds me that I might have saved you all these years of suffering and anxiety if I had only thought less of myself and more of others. Now about your birthday. Our Christmas this year, please God, will be a double festival. We shall gather all your people, William, and all mine, and we will have our friends and neighbours, rich and poor, to rejoice with us."

When Christmas Day did come, it was such a one as I shall never forget. The old church at Denesfield was full to overflowing; and there was one special prayer offered for him who that day attained to man's estate, that the blessing of God would rest upon him—that indeed he might be blessed and made a blessing to those amongst whom he would, in course of time, be called to dwell.

Those who heard that prayer guessed rightly that my Aunt Milly was asking the prayers of the congregation for him who was, after her, to be the master of Denesfield. I believe every lip and heart echoed the prayer, for all the people were learning to know and love William Dene, and they rejoiced that one of the "old stock" would be heir to Denesfield.

My father and mother rejoiced with all their hearts. They never desired the inheritance for their children; and when Aunt Milly took the course they always hoped she might be led to take, with regard to her husband's relatives, they were greatly pleased.

There was one thing which excited my surprise, and that was their anxiety that my aunt should arrange all her affairs and make William Dene's inheritance certain. I did not know that dear Aunt Milly was even then suffering from a disease which left no hope of long life, and that, when she talked to me of her heavenly treasures, she was expecting ere long to enter upon her eternal inheritance.

I was only twenty when Aunt Milly died, rejoicing in her sure and certain hope; her one regret being for those who so tenderly loved and would so sadly mourn for her and miss her.

She left Denesfield to William; and left legacies to the rest of his family, to my sisters, and myself. In addition, she gave me the famous diamonds, as she had always declared she would do; but she made one condition—that, should I desire it, William Dene should pay me the sum of ten thousand pounds instead of the most important ornaments.

My father had experienced some losses a little time before, of which he would not let Aunt Milly know anything; but now I was glad that by leaving the diamonds for the future mistress of Denesfield, I could far more than replace the money. So I wrote and told William Dene that the articles named by my aunt were fit for a lady holding a different position from that of a country clergyman's daughter, and that I would only keep those which she expressly wished me to retain.

The money was duly paid to me; and in handing it to my parents for their use, I was happier than I could have been in possessing the most gorgeous jewels.

The old lady, who had been listened to with the greatest attention by the youngsters round her, here paused for a moment, and a thoughtful-looking lad raised his face, and said:

"Grandmamma, I think I can finish the story."

She smiled gently, and replied, "Go on, Will; and if you are wrong, I will correct you."

"In the first place, then, you got your Aunt Milly's diamonds after all; and you were, and you are, mistress of Denesfield Manor. Grandpapa's name is William Dene, and I am called after him."

"Quite right, dear Will. A year after Aunt Milly's death, William Dene brought me here as his wife, and gave me back my home and Aunt Milly's diamonds. I have had such a happy married life as wives have who can honour their husbands and see in them disciples of the Saviour. We have been spared to see our children grow up, and come in their turn bringing their boys and girls to keep Christmas at Denesfield. God grant to us and all a happy one this year!"

"But," said a little girl, "were you not very glad and proud when you got the diamonds after all?"

"I was glad, dear; but not so glad as I should once have been; for I had, in the meantime, found a more precious jewel. I wear Aunt Milly's diamonds still on Christmas Day, for Grandpapa will have it so; but I have the better jewel always about me—'the Pearl of great price.' That means very much the same thing as Aunt Milly's heavenly treasure.

"And now we must go and listen, for I hear children's voices ringing through the air, and I catch the words of the old carol:

"Hark! The herald angels sing
Glory to the new-born King:
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled."

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