Both Mrs. Costello and Mrs. Bellairs were surprised to hear the young widow speaking with so much of her old spirit and decision.  The fact was that the consciousness that there was something to be done for others had made Bella aware that, in spite of her aching heart, she was still able to do what duties remained to her; and without hesitation, or, indeed, any thought about the matter, she was prepared to take upon herself the management of her own affairs, and to change her brother-in-law’s position from that of guardian, resumed since her widowhood, to that of adviser only.  In the very depths of her misery she had passed her twenty-first birthday, so that now she would have had in any case the right of acting for herself.  It was the very time to which, not many months ago, Mr. Bellairs had looked forward with some anxiety, and which he had thought so well provided for by her marriage; now, in the utter change which had come both to her circumstances and feelings, there was little reason why even the most careful guardian should feel any reluctance to resign his office.  But since her widowhood she had so visibly shrunk from all mention of her property, and especially of that part of it which had been the cause of her husband’s dispute with his murderer, that her friends naturally wondered now to hear her speak of the management of those very lands in a way which showed that the subject had actually occupied her thoughts.

“I promised Dr. Hardy,” Mrs. Costello said, “that the care of providing for the children should be mine.  Indeed, I feel bound to do something.  I think until they are old enough to be of some use to their mother, it would be well to give her a little allowance for their schooling and clothes; but I shall be away.  Will you manage this for me?”

It was so arranged.  Mrs. Costello was to leave a certain sum in Mrs. Morton’s hands, to be paid monthly to Mrs. Clarkson for the benefit of her children; and, this being settled, the little party had time to turn their thoughts to subjects of more personal interest.  They would not meet again until the Costellos returned from Moose Island, which would probably not be for a week at least.  The messenger who had carried to Mr. Strafford the news of Christian’s death had returned, and brought a letter which only confirmed Mrs. Costello’s plans—­she and Lucia were to be, for as long a time as they could spare, the guests of their old friend, and Christian was to be laid in the burial ground where so many of his own people already slept.

At last the two sisters left the Cottage, and once more Mrs. Costello and Lucia remained alone in the familiar room.  How much seemed to have happened since they were last alone here! and, through great suffering, how much good seemed to have been wrought!  The little home seemed pleasanter than ever, and for a moment Mrs. Costello asked herself if it was really necessary that they should leave it?  But clearly, if not necessary, it was best.  It was best, probably, that Lucia and Maurice should not meet again, and certainly that Lucia should be placed within reach of her future guardians.  But Mrs. Costello sighed over her plan.