Chapter XIII

“Rich in love
And sweet humility, she was herself
To the degree that she desired beloved.”

_The Excursion._

Two months afterwards Mr. Pope joined the hands of Leicester and Violet. It was at Holywell that the marriage took place. It was there, commended to Ida’s special charge, that Violet left her parents, during her absence, and until she could receive them into her own house in Clarges Street.

It was a great satisfaction to Mr. Pope to perform this ceremony. Two marriages had lately taken place in his parish, but not under his auspices; and though his disapproval of the unions had softened the blow, he still looked on himself as deprived of his rights, and the married pair as deprived of his blessing. Privately he had some doubts whether under these circumstances the marriages held good, but he was discreet enough to keep this doubt to his own mind. When, therefore, he understood that Violet was to be indebted to him for the bestowal of the marriage blessing, his broad face shone with unmitigated satisfaction; and when the ceremony was performed it was performed in tones so sonorous, and with movements of such pomp and dignity, that every bystander--so he imagined at least--became aware of the loss those suffered who were deprived on such an occasion of his services.

He looked on Violet as his own creation. In the course of the years of their acquaintance he had come to admire and respect her; to listen to her opinion, and to court her assistance; but still it was as his own creation; his own discovery; a reflection of himself. This made the value of her services; this caused the regret with which he saw her depart. When he shook hands with her for the last time, he felt as if a limb was about to be severed from his body, and, loth that such a severance should be made, he repeated the shake again and again, at each repetition with redoubled violence, till his eyes, and hers also, overflowed with the exertions he made.

It is not always that endeavours for the good of others are repaid either by appreciation or gratitude; and Violet had learned better things than to do her work for earthly reward. But such a reward must ever be sweet when it comes, and the burst of love and regret that followed the announcement of her marriage in the neighbourhood, took her by surprise, and made her own heart swell with answering gratitude and love. She certainly deserved some reward, for she had worked on in dreary days as in days of excitement and sunshine, amid vexations within and without, as well as when all hung upon her words and encouragement. And if she soberly considered what she had done, there was enough to satisfy even her exacting nature. She could not look back on Holywell as she had found it, and as she left it, without thankfulness for all she had been able to do. From her an electric spark had fallen; the spark of love and true benevolence, and it had set on fire all who came within her sphere of influence. Plans for the welfare of the poor, for the comfort of their bodies and the soothing and elevation of their minds; plans for the healthier teaching of the young; endeavours to win the thoughts of all to a more enlightened service to God, and a more reverent devotion in His worship. It mattered not on what good work she cast her eyes, she could not but see that of that work she had been the life and the soul; her mind quick to find the way or her hands willing to execute the ideas of others. She could look about and see the fruit of her labours, and know that the impulse she had given would not die away.

For above all there was Ida--above all, because there is no work so great as that which touches on an individual man--there was Ida, moulded and framed by the conscious and unconscious working of her mind; Ida left to carry on every good work, and to take her place as the help, the friend, the consoler, of the poor.

All this Violet saw, and loving the place on which she had poured out her loving heart, wept as she parted from it.

But though Violet left Holywell with regret, yet she was supremely happy. In the end of October she was established in Clarges Street, and there received her father and mother, until they could provide a house suited to their means.

Clarges Street remained the abode of Leicester alone. He had hoped, he had implored that Rachel would remain, and Violet added her entreaties; but she and Margaret had in the meanwhile decided otherwise. Perhaps some rankling remembrance of Violet’s behaviour to their brother made them argue that it would be best to let her be alone. But this was in private. Ostensibly it was in the hope and intention of securing Leicester’s happiness that the resolution was taken. Between them it had been resolved that Rachel should live with Margaret; and Rachel had less reluctance in acceding to the proposal, as she felt that the income which Leicester had secured to her would shortly be a help to Albert in his ménage. It was not likely that his income would increase, industrious though he was, for several years, and it _was_ likely that his family might do so in undue proportion. She accepted, therefore, the offer that came from Albert himself, and removed to their abode, after having made all ready for Violet’s reception.

If any hard thoughts, however, any recollections of her love of power, did linger in their breasts, they were soon swept away; and, though the arrangement succeeded too well for any permanent alteration to be made, Rachel was often Violet’s guest, and at each succeeding visit the warmth and cordiality of her sister-in-law made her dearer to her heart.