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in the latter part of his stay； there was one Sundayit was the one
before Michaelmashe was there all day； walking in the churchyard； and
sitting in the porch between services。
'The Sunday before Michaelmas！' thought Philip； the very time when he
had been most earnest in driving his uncle to persecute； and delighting
himself in having triumphed over Guy at last； and obtained tangible
demonstration of his own foresight； and his cousin's vindictive spirit。
What had he been throwing away？ Where had； in truth； been the hostile
spirit？
He took the key of the church； and walked thither alone； standing for
several minutes by the three graves； with a sensation as if his father
was demanding of him an account of the boy he had watched； and brought
to his ancestral home； and cared for through his orphaned childhood。
But for the prayer…book； the pledge that there had been peace at the
last； how could he have borne it？
Here was the paved path he had trodden in early childhood； holding his
mother's hand； where； at each recurring vacation during his school
days； he had walked between his admiring sisters； in the consciousness
that he was the pride of his family and of all the parish。 Of his
family？ Did he not remember his return home for the last time before
that when he was summoned thither by his father's death？ He had come
with a whole freight of prizes； and letters full of praises； and as he
stood； in expectation of the expression of delighted satisfaction； his
father laid his hand on his trophy； the pile of books； saying；
gravely；' All this would I give； Philip； for one evidence of humility
of mind。'
It had been his father's one reproof。 He had thought it unjust and
unreasonable； and turned away impatiently to be caressed and admired by
Margaret。 His real feelings had been told to her； because she
flattered them and shared them； he had been reserved and guarded with
the father who would have perceived and repressed that ambition and the
self…sufficiency which he himself had never known to exist； nor
regarded as aught but sober truth。 It had been his bane； that he had
been always too sensible to betray outwardly his self…conceit； in any
form that could lead to its being noticed。
He opened the church door； closed it behind him； and locked himself in。
He came up to the communion rail； where he had knelt for the first time
twelve years ago； confident in himself； and unconscious of the fears
with which his father's voice was trembling in the intensity of his
prayer for one in whom there was no tangible evil； and whom others
thought a pattern of all that could be desired by the fondest hopes。
He knelt down； with bowed head； and hands clasped。 Assuredly； if his
father could have beheld him then； it would have been with rejoicing。
He would not have sorrowed that robust frame was wasted； and great
strength brought low； that the noble features were worn； the healthful
cheek pale； and the powerful intellect clouded and weakened； he would
hardly have mourned for the cruel grief and suffering； such would have
been his joy that the humble； penitent； obedient heart had been won at
last。 Above all； he would have rejoiced that the words that most
soothed that wounded spirit were；'A broken and contrite heart； 0 God；
Thou wilt not despise。'
There was solace in that solemn silence； the throbs of head and heart
were stilled in the calm around。 It was as if the influences of the
prayers breathed for him by his father； and the forgiveness and loving
spirit there won by Guy； had been waiting for him there till he came to
take them up； for thenceforth the bitterest of his despair was over；
and he could receive each token of Amabel's forgiveness； not as heaped
coals of fire； but as an earnest of forgiveness sealed in heaven。
The worst was over； and though he still had much to suffer； he was
becoming open to receive comfort； the blank dark remorse in which he
had been living began to lighten； and the tone of his mind to return。
He spoke more cheerfully to Susan when he restored the key； but she had
been so shocked at his appearance； that when； the next day； a report
reached her that Mr。 Philip was now a grand gentleman； and very rich；
she answered；
'Well； if it be so； I am glad of it； but he said never a word of it to
me； and it is my belief he would give all the money as ever was coined；
to have the poor young gentleman back again。 Depend upon it； he hates
the very sound of it。'
At the cost of several sheets of paper； Philip at length completed a
letter to Mr。 Edmonstone； which； when he had sent it； made his suspense
more painful。
'St。 Mildred's； March 12th。
'MY DEAR MR。 Edmonstone；It is with a full sense of the unfitness of
intruding such a subject upon you in the present state of the family；
that I again address you on the same topic as that on which I wrote to
you from Italy； at the first moment at which I have felt it possible to
ask your attention。 I was then too ill to be able to express my
contrition for all that has passed； in fact； I doubt whether it was
even then so deep as at present； since every succeeding week has but
added to my sense of the impropriety of my conduct； and my earnest
desire for pardon。 I can hardly venture at such a time to ask anything
further； but I must add that my sentiments towards your daughter are
unaltered； and can never cease but with my life； and though I know I
have rendered myself unworthy of her； and my health； both mental and
bodily； is far from being re…established； I cannot help laying my
feelings before you； and entreating that you will put an end to the
suspense which has endured for so many months； by telling me to hope
that I have not for ever forfeited your consent to my attachment。 At
least； I trust to your kindness for telling me on what terms I am for
the present to stand with your family。 I am glad to hear such
favourable reports of Lady Morville； and with all my heart I thank
Charles for his letter。
'Yours ever affectionately；
'P。 H。 MORVILLE。'
He ardently watched for a reply。 He could not endure the idea of
receiving it where Margaret's eyes could scan the emotion he could now
only conceal by a visible rigidity of demeanour； and he daily went
himself to the post…office； but in vain。 He received nothing but
business letters； and among them one from Markham； with as much
defiance and dislike in its style as could be shown； in a perfectly
formal； proper letter。 Till he had referred to Lady Morville； he would
not make any demonstration towards Redclyffe； and evaded all his
sister's questions as to what he was doing about it； and when he should
take measures for leaving the army； or obtaining a renewal of the
baronetcy。
Anxiety made him look daily more wretchedly haggard； the Doctor was at
fault； Mrs。 Henley looked sagacious； while his manner became so dry and
repellent that visitors went away moralizing on the absurdity of
〃nouveaux riches〃 taking so much state on them。
He wondered how soon he might venture to write to Amabel； on whom alone
he could depend； but he felt it a sort of profanity to disturb her。
He had nearly given up his visits to the post in despair； when one
morning he beheld what never failed to bring some soothing influence；
namely； the fair pointed characters he had not dared to hope for。 He
walked quickly into the promenade； sat down； and read：
'Hollywell； March 22nd。
'MY DEAR PHILIP；Papa does not answer your letter； because he says
speaking is better than writing； and we hope you are well enough to
come to us before Sunday week。 I hope to take our dear little girl to
be christened on that day； and I want you to be so kind as to be her
godfather。 I ask it of you； not only in my own name； but in her
father's； for I am sure it is what he would choose。 Her Aunt Laura and
Mary Ross are to be her godmothers； I hope you will not think me very
foolish and fanciful for naming her Mary Verena； in remembrance of our
old readings of Sintram。 She is a very healthy； quiet creature； and I
am getting on very well。 I am writing from the dressing…room； and I
expect to be down…stairs in a few days。 If you do not dislike it very
much； could you be so kind as to call upon Miss Wellwood； and pay
little Marianne Dixon's quarter for me？ It is ￡10； and it will save
trouble if you would do it； besides that； I should like to hear of her
and the little girl。 I am sorry to hear you are not better；perhaps
coming here may do you good。Four o'clock。 I have been keeping my
letter in hopes of persuading papa to put in a note； but he says he had
rather send a message that he is quite ready to forgive and forget； and
it will be best to talk it over when you come。〃