Among other hopes that had vanished, was the hope, the trust she
had had, that Mr. Bell would have given Mr. Thornton the simple
facts of the family circumstances which had preceded the
unfortunate accident that led to Leonards' death. Whatever
opinion--however changed it might be from what Mr. Thornton had
once entertained, she had wished it to be based upon a true
understanding of what she had done; and why she had done it. It
would have been a pleasure to her; would have given her rest on a
point on which she should now all her life be restless, unless
she could resolve not to think upon it. It was now so long after
the time of these occurrences, that there was no possible way of
explaining them save the one which she had lost by Mr. Bell's
death. She must just submit, like many another, to be
misunderstood; but, though reasoning herself into the belief that
in this hers was no uncommon lot, her heart did not ache the less
with longing that some time--years and years hence--before he
died at any rate, he might know how much she had been tempted.
She thought that she did not want to hear that all was explained
to him, if only she could be sure that he would know. But this
wish was vain, like so many others; and when she had schooled
herself into this conviction, she turned with all her heart and
strength to the life that lay immediately before her, and
resolved to strive and make the best of that.
She used to sit long hours upon the beach, gazing intently on the
waves as they chafed with perpetual motion against the pebbly
shore,--or she looked out upon the more distant heave, and
sparkle against the sky, and heard, without being conscious of
hearing, the eternal psalm, which went up continually. She was
soothed without knowing how or why. Listlessly she sat there, on
the ground, her hands clasped round her knees, while her aunt
Shaw did small shoppings, and Edith and Captain Lennox rode far
and wide on shore and inland. The nurses, sauntering on with
their charges, would pass and repass her, and wonder in whispers
what she could find to look at so long, day after day. And when
the family gathered at dinner-time, Margaret was so silent and
absorbed that Edith voted her moped, and hailed a proposal of her
husband's with great satisfaction, that Mr. Henry Lennox should
be asked to take Cromer for a week, on his return from Scotland
in October.
But all this time for thought enabled Margaret to put events in
their right places, as to origin and significance, both as
regarded her past life and her future. Those hours by the
sea-side were not lost, as any one might have seen who had had
the perception to read, or the care to understand, the look that
Margaret's face was gradually acquiring. Mr. Henry Lennox was
excessively struck by the change.