Chapter V

And then came further trouble. Early in February, Monsieur d’Alberg wrote an exultant letter to announce the birth of a son. Why a son was so important to him none could say, but so it was; and, under the influence of this joyful event, his heart expanded enough to impart itself to Nora. He wrote a kindly as well as a triumphant letter; and it gave her a feeling that one of her haters was thawing towards her.

He did not invite her to come over at that time; but he expressed a wish that when Madame was recovered she would come and see the young heir.

Madame, however, did not recover rapidly. Nora began at last to wonder at the often-repeated bulletin: “Doing well, but continues weak.” She wrote to say that, if Monsieur d’Alberg approved, she would like to visit her mother. Perhaps her visit might invigorate her.

Monsieur d’Alberg wrote in reply to beg her to come. He did not say he felt uneasy; but Nora imagined that he did so, and set off without delay.

It did not need many looks in her mother’s face to convince Nora that her days were numbered. Monsieur d’Alberg did not appear to see it, physician though he was; but to the keen and searching eye of the sad daughter it was plain. And, in fact, after a painless decay of six weeks, Madame d’Alberg died.

Sad as were those weeks, they were not without sweetness. It was Nora who once again was all in all to her mother. Monsieur d’Alberg was not a man to invite to himself trouble and sorrow; and, as his eyes began to open to the conviction that his wife was dying, he very thankfully resigned her to Nora’s care. Not altogether in want of affection, he was very kind, and, whenever he came, spoke gently both to mother and daughter. It was more the wish to spare himself the sight of her decline than from want of common feeling; and there was nothing but peace and comfort around the dying bed of the well-meaning but weak woman.

Nor after her death did Monsieur d’Alberg shew any return of distrust or dislike. He acceded to her wish of taking little Annora under her protection for good; and with equal readiness to her taking the two elder sisters for a long visit to Riddlemere. He was going, he said, to break up his establishment for a time, to place his boy with a sister who lived in some other part of Switzerland, and would let her know when he intended to reform his household.

With three little sisters Nora therefore returned to Riddlemere, and a good deal of life was introduced into the house. Sophy was still in failing health, and in attending upon her, in amusing the children and performing her usual duties, full occupation was provided. She was still sad enough at heart, but was learning to control herself, and was outwardly cheerful.

Before the close of the year, Riddlemere was destined to receive other guests.

In the summer, Mrs. Devereux, after a long illness, in which her mind as well as body failed, died. The child of whom Mr. Blair had spoken died in the spring, and the blow, as he had imagined, gave the finishing stroke to her strength. Mrs. Devereux died, and a month after her death it could no longer be concealed that Mr. Devereux was mad.

Letitia had not been allowed to come to the house during her mother’s illness, or after her death. Her very name caused Mr. Devereux momentarily to lose his reason. But when the time came that the long brooding insanity became a confirmed thing, she was sent for.

Poor Letitia was not very happy in her marriage; and when these family cares devolved on her, she found but little help from her husband. He did indeed ascertain for her the state in which the money matters stood; but, finding these were not satisfactory, he declined to have any more to say. It was necessary to place Mr. Devereux in some sort of confinement, and to provide for the two children that were left. During the past year Mr. Devereux had done little to increase his fortune, and debts had accumulated; while the income which was settled on his wife and Henry could not be touched till Henry’s return.

Letitia wrote to Henry; but she did not know where he was, and she knew that his receipt of her letter was a doubtful event. He had at last written to his mother, and had said that he had found employment, but he also said that his life was an unsettled one. He gave a direction to which letters were to be sent, but desired her not to be uneasy if no answer was returned. He had, he said, no definite plans; when she wrote to Australia he might possibly be in New Zealand, “or in any other country on the face of the earth, except England.” The stormy passions that drove him away, too evidently still raging within him.

Letitia had had but one strong feeling in her life. Natural affections she certainly had, as was evident now, for she was oppressed with sorrow and care, and something of remorse, too, at the death of her mother, and the state of her father, and her home. But she had only consciously indulged one feeling, and to this she now clung. It was not a passion that made her happy, but she had taken it to herself, and to that passion or feeling, now become a duty, she was resolved to give her life’s devotion. When she saw, therefore, that she was to find no help or sympathy from her husband in her cares for her family, she resolved that she would take the burden on herself, and refrain from annoying him by word or look.

But in order to bear this burden without annoying him, she took a step which no other consideration would have made her take. She appealed, and in no haughty tone, to Nora. Her letter to Nora was a good one. Its tone would, in a man, have been called manly; for it acknowledged faults in the past, and yet, without abject expressions, asked that they should on this occasion be forgotten. She said she had a young brother and sister to provide for until Henry’s return, and could not from circumstances receive them herself. It was not money, she said, that she asked for them, but care. She was herself inexperienced in such things, and wished for the advice and assistance of one better fitted to offer it.

It would be difficult to say whether pleasure or surprise predominated in Nora’s mind on the reception of this letter. She had been led to form ideas of Letitia’s character different from what it portrayed. But the fact was, Letitia herself was changed. Devotion even to a bad husband was better for the character than the life of idle discontent which she had led at home; and the better parts of her character were beginning to emerge from darkness.

Unwilling to say anything that might wound, Nora simply answered the letter with the assurance of her willingness to give both assistance and advice; and then requested her faithful servant, Stephen Fanshawe, to go to Letitia and discover her wishes.

Her own wish, she told him, was to receive and keep the children until Henry’s return; but prudence made her unwilling to make the proposal, if such should not be Letitia’s plan.

On going to Letitia, Stephen found that the plan was exactly what she most approved. Her feeling of responsibility in arranging for the welfare of the children was satisfied; and as the home might then be broken up, there was good hope that the money matters might be satisfactorily arranged in the course of a few months. This last subject was of great importance to her. She of course had had no fortune, but should there be a satisfactory arrangement of affairs, a fortune might come to her, more or less; and whatever it were, it would gratify her husband.

Nora came to London, to her guardian’s house, to receive the children. She behaved with great prudence, making no advances to Letitia beyond what the occasion required, and was gratified by receiving a visit from her when the children were placed under her care.

There was no likeness to Henry in Letitia, and but little in the other children. The one who had lately died, the little girl of four years old, was the only one who had had any promise of the features, or of the charm of disposition, of the elder son. But the children were harmless, poor little shy things, who had had few pleasures and a careless education, and were therefore more interesting to a kind heart than had they been beautiful and charming.

She took them back to Riddlemere, and for the next seven months devoted herself to her large family.

It was at the end of that time that the little event mentioned two chapters back, broke the quietness of her life.