She finished the letter and threw down the pen. What it had cost her to
write thus, only her own loving and outraged woman's heart knew.
By the time she had sealed her letter Phoebe entered to say that the
dinner was served--that solitary meal at which she had sat down,
heart-broken, for so many weary years.
She answered, "Very well," but never stirred from her seat.
Phoebe fidgeted about the room for a while, and then, with the freedom
of a favorite attendant, she came to the side of the countess and,
smiling archly, said: "My lady."
"Well, Phoebe?"
"People needn't starve, need they, because they are going back to their
'ain countrie'?"
Lady Hurstmonceux smiled faintly, roused herself, and went down to
dinner.
On her return to her room she found her maid locking the last trunks.
"Is everything packed, Phoebe?"
"Except the dress you have on, my lady; and I can lay that on the top of
this trunk after you put on your traveling dress."
"And you are glad we are going home, my girl?"
"Oh, my lady, I feel as if I could just spread out my arms and fly for
joy."
"Then I am, also, for your sake. What time is it now?"
"Five o'clock, my lady."
"Three hours yet. Tell Mrs. Spicer to come here."
Phoebe locked the trunk she had under her hand and went out to obey.
When Mrs. Spicer came in she was startled by the intelligence that her
lady was going away immediately, and that the house was to be shut up
until the arrival of Mr. Brudenell or his agents, who would arrange for
its future disposition.
When Lady Hurstmonceux had finished these instructions she placed a
liberal sum of money in the housekeeper's hands, with orders to divide
it among the house-servants.
Next she sent for Grainger, the overseer, and having given him the same
information, and put a similar sum of money in his hands for
distribution among the negroes, she dismissed both the housekeeper and
the overseer. Then she enclosed a note for a large amount in a letter
addressed to the pastor of the parish, with a request that he would
appropriate it for the relief of the suffering poor in that
neighborhood. Finally, having completed all her preparations, she took a
cup of tea, bade farewell to her dependents, and, attended by Phoebe,
entered the carriage and was driven to Baymouth, where she posted her
two letters in time for the evening mail, and where the next morning she
took the boat for Baltimore, en route for the North. She stopped in
Baltimore only long enough to arrange business with Mr. Brudenell's
solicitors, and then proceeded to New York, whence, at the end of the
same week, she sailed for Liverpool. Thus the beautiful young English
Jewess, who had dropped for a while like some rich exotic flower
transplanted to our wild Maryland woods, returned to her native land,
where, let us hope, she found in an appreciating circle of friends some
consolation for the loss of that domestic happiness that had been so
cruelly torn from her.