They both paused a moment, then Nuttie said, "Only that the estate ought to go in the male line."
"Oh, is that all?" said Annaple, "I was afraid Mr. Egremont had a fit!"
"Ah! Don"t you see what it means," said Mark. "They want it to be as if there were an entail--to begin treating me as an eldest son at once.
It is Ursula"s doing, putting herself out of the succession."
"I always hated being an heiress," said Nuttie.
"It would be more dreadful than ever now. Annaple, do be sensible!
Don"t you see it is the only right thing to do?"
"Billy!" was the one word Annaple said.
"Yes, Billy and Jenny and all," said Nuttie, "before you"ve all died of your horrid place--Oh! you haven"t heard that part of it. Of course Mark will have to go down to Bridgefield and look after the place, and live like a gentleman."
"Eight hundred a year," murmured Mark, "and the house at the Home Farm."
"Oh! dear," gasped Annaple, "I wanted you to be Lord Mayor, and now you"ll only be a stupid old country squire. No, no, Nuttie, it"s--it"s--it"s the sort of thing that one only laughs at because otherwise one would have to do the other thing!"
And she gripped Nuttie tight round the waist, and laid her head on her shoulder, shaking with a few little sobs, which might be one thing or the other.
"It will save her youth, perhaps her life," whispered Mark, lifting Nuttie"s hand to his lips for a moment, and then vanishing, while Annaple recovered enough to say, "I"m tougher than that, sir. But little Jenny! Oh, Nuttie, I believe it has come in time. I"ve known all along that one straw more might break the camel"s back. We"ve been very happy, but I am glad it is over before Mark got worn down before his time. Grinding is very wholesome, but one may have too much; and I haven"t Mark"s scruples, Nuttie dear, for I do think the place is more in his line than yours or Mr. Dutton"s."
"Yes," said Ursula, "you see he was always happy there, and I never was."
The next thing was for Mr. Dutton and Ursula to keep Mr. Egremont up to the point of making his long deferred will; nor did they find this so difficult as they expected, for having once made up his mind, he wished to have the matter concluded, and he gave his instructions to Bulfinch the next day. Of course Mark had to give full notice to his employers; but the allowance was to begin at once, so that Annaple only went back to the warehouse to pack up, since she was to occupy No. 5, while Mr.
Egremont and his daughter were going under Mr. Dutton"s escort to the baths in Dauphine, an entirely new resort, free from the a.s.sociations he dreaded, for he could not yet bear the sight of little w.i.l.l.y--the rival "boy of Egremont." But the will was safely signed before he went, to the great relief of Nuttie, who, according to the experience of fiction, could hardly believe his life safe till what she called justice had been done.
After all Mr. Egremont became so dependent on Mr. Dutton, during this journey, that he did not like the separation at its close, and pressed on the marriage even sooner than either of the lovers felt quite reverent towards the recent sorrow. He insisted on Bulfinch having the settlements ready for them on their return, and only let them wait long enough to keep their residence, before there was a very quiet wedding in their parish church, with the cousins for bridesmaids. Then Mark and Annaple took care of Mr. Egremont for the fortnight while Mr.
Dutton showed his wife his old haunts in France, returning to Springfield House, where there was plenty of room for Mr. Egremont to make his home with them.
Said Annaple to Miss Nugent, "I never saw Nuttie so youthful and bright. She is more like a girl than I ever saw her since the first."
"Yes," said Mary, "she has some one to rest on now."
Mr. Egremont lived between three and four years, more contented and peaceful than he had ever been, though frequently suffering, and sometimes giving way to temper and impatience. But Mr. Dutton understood how to manage on these occasions, and without giving up his own extensive usefulness, could give him such care, attention, and amus.e.m.e.nt as beguiled his discomforts, and made his daughter"s task an easier one.
How far the sluggish enfeebled nature was capable of a touch of better things, or whether his low spirits were repentance, no one could judge.
At any rate sneers had ended, and when he was laid beside his wife and boy at Bridgefield, Ursula stood by the grave with a far more tender and hopeful feeling than she could have thought possible when he had rent her away from her old home. She looked up at her husband and said, "Is not her work done?"
THE END.