“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.