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It is late July and I am at Ledstone as its nominal mistress I say nominal, for Augustus's mother reigns, as she always did. The sorrow of grandmamma's death, the feeling that nothing can matter in the world now, has kept me from caring or asserting myself in any way. I feel numb.
At the end of February I was still at Ledstone, and my daily communications from Amelia told me my poor mother-in-law was still a happy idiot another telegram came to me this time it was addressed to grandmamma to grandmamma at the cottage! The very outside startled me.
I felt how wrong I had been to laugh with him about this my home. It is because, after all these months, I cannot realize that Ledstone is my home that I have been capable of committing this bad taste. I felt my cheeks getting red and I looked down. "I I like bright colors," I said, defiantly. "They are cheerful and and "
Augustus had left me his fortune, to be divided with his mother, should she survive him, and if not, to go to me and any possible children we might have. The will had been made directly we returned to Ledstone after our wedding. Amelia received only a very small legacy. Towards the end of January there was a change in the poor invalid up-stairs. My presence began to awake some memories.
"If you leave home at three, in the motor," he said, "we shall get there exactly at the same time." And so I returned to Ledstone alone. The fog was white round the windows as I came down to my solitary breakfast on the 4th. My heart sank. What if it should be too thick for me to start? I could not bear to think of the disappointment that would be.
When I got back to Ledstone, after my week in London, I found quantities of letters and bills had accumulated for Augustus. His lawyers were coming down the next day to sort and settle everything. They had been piled up in the smoking-room. I sadly glanced through them as they lay.
Hephzibah's face, which is a grayish yellow generally, gets a pale beet-root up to her ears, and she looks so coy. But I dare say it feels lovely to her to stand there at the back door and know some one is interested in what she does and says. Ledstone Park is owned by some people of the name of Gurrage does not it sound a fat word!
For several days after this a good deal of my time was taken up by my mother-in-law's advice and directions as to how I should rule the house during her absence at Bournemouth, where she would be until she returned to spend Christmas with us. It was a great wrench, one could see, to Mrs. Gurrage to relinquish even for this short two months her rule at Ledstone.
She was full of excitement at the return of the owners of Ledstone, and gave us a quantity of information about them in spite of grandmamma's aloofness from all gossip. It appears, even in the country in England, Mrs. Gurrage is considered quite an oddity, but every one knows and accepts her, because she is so charitable and gives hundreds to any scheme the great ladies start.
He promised me, as we said good-bye, that he would think of my words, and try to do something with his life to deserve my good opinion. "Come here whenever you are lonely, dear child," said my beautiful hostess, as we parted. "We delight in having you, and you must not mope at home all by yourself." The roads were too bad for the automobile, so I drove back to Ledstone in my victoria.
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