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As her father drew that picture of the future, the outburst of Magdalen's gratitude could no longer be restrained. She was deeply touched she spoke from her inmost heart. Mr. Vanstone waited until his daughter and his wife were composed again; and then added the last words of explanation which were now left for him to speak.
Anxious to witness with her own eyes the reality of a transformation in which past experience still inclined her to disbelieve, Miss Garth ascended to Magdalen's room, knocked twice at the door, received no answer, opened it and looked in.
These little amenities were a new departure on Bessie's part. Magdalen's pleasure in the apple blossom seemed to her somewhat exaggerated, but she made allowances for her, as she had a cold. "Are you going out again?" asked Magdalen. "No." "Then I should like to have a little talk with you. I have something to tell you." Bessie sat down. "I am prepared for the announcement you have to make.
She is only keeping her hand in. Don't you remember how cruel she was to that poor Mr. Bell." "I am convinced that she is not keeping her hand in." "Then you actually favour the idea of a marriage." Bessie got up and stalked slowly to the door. "You will help it on?" she said over her shoulder. "No." Magdalen's voice shook a little. "I will do nothing to help it, or to hinder it."
"How much luggage?" she asked, confidentially. "The captain's gone out. Let's go and get it!" "Mrs. Wragge!" cried a terrible voice at the door. For the first time in Magdalen's experience, Mrs. Wragge was deaf to the customary stimulant. She actually ventured on a feeble remonstrance in the presence of her husband. "Oh, do let her have her Things!" pleaded Mrs. Wragge.
The room with its many books, and the tall mullioned window with the bare elm branches across it, were all turning gently together in a spreading dimness. The only thing that remained fixed was Magdalen's shoulder, and even that shook a little. Fay leaned her face against it, and let all the rest go. The window with its tree quivered for a moment across the dark and then flickered out.
For it may be noted, that our Saviour hath had such care, that, for Mary Magdalen's kindness to him, her name should never be forgotten: and doubtless Dr. Sanderson's meek and innocent life, his great and useful Learning, might therefore challenge the like endeavours to preserve his memory: And 'tis to me a wonder, that it has been already fifteen years neglected.
There was a terrible silence, during which several fixtures in Magdalen's mind had to be painfully and swiftly moved, and carefully safeguarded into new positions. Magdalen became very white in the process. At last she said, "Did Andrea know that Michael was innocent of the murder?"
"And she never let any one guess it," said Agatha, more warmly, "for fear we might feel the difference. How very good of her." She seemed more impressed by Mrs. Best's bounty than by Magdalen's, but probably she took the latter as a matter of course and obligation; besides, the sense of it involved a sum in subtraction.
She snatched up her bonnet and mantilla, and made for North Shingles without an instant's hesitation. Mr. Bygrave out at sea; Miss Bygrave away for a walk; Mrs. Bygrave and the servant both at home, and both easily dealt with the opportunity was not to be lost; the risk was well worth running! This time the house door was easily opened: no one had bolted it again after Magdalen's departure. Mrs.
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