“There is little praise to be got from men for that,” said Wingfold, “and I am sure Richard does not seek any. He would help men to see that the man who serves his neighbour, is the man whom the Lord of the universe honours. An idle man, or one busy only for himself, is like a lump of refuse floating this way and that in the flux and reflux of the sewer-tide of the world. Were Richard lord of lands it would be absurd of him to give his life to bookbinding—that would be to desert his neighbour on those lands. But what better can he do now than follow the trade by which he may at once earn his living?”

With eternity before them, and God at the head and the heart of the universe, Richard and Barbara did not believe in separation any more than in death. He in London and she at Wylder Hall, they were far more together than most unparted pairs.

Wingfold set himself to keep Barbara busy, giving her plenty to read and plenty of work—her waiting should be no loss of time to her if he could help it! Among other things, he set her to teach his boy where she thought herself much too ignorant. He held, not only that to teach is the best way to learn, but that the imperfect are the best teachers of the imperfect.

He made Richard promise to take no important step for a year without first letting him know. He was anxious he should have nothing to undo because of what the packet committed to his care might contain.

56. The Packet

— Fifty-Six —

The Packet

At last the anniversary of the death of sir Wilton arrived. Wingfold rose early, his mind anxious and his heart troubled that his mind should be anxious, and set out for London by the first train. There he sought the office of sir Wilton’s lawyer. When at last Mr. Bell appeared, Wingfold asked him to witness the opening of the packet. Mr. Bell broke the seal himself, read the baronet’s statement of the request he had made to Wingfold, and then opened the enclosed packet.