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“What is this opportunity?”
“’Tis too soon to count my chickens,” my aunt replied, “but I will say that the vicar is deeply impressed with him, and we have hope that when the time comes, he will be well placed. Mr Martin, whom I hired to help us with the property, is far better than any hired man I have ever known—he takes care of simply everything! The house is so snug and comfortable now—and Mr Ferrars at last worked everything out with the creditors and the other investors, to everyone’s satisfaction. It appears that we shall have more than enough to live comfortably, sheep to shear in June, and orchards to harvest come autumn. In fact, I was just realising I could invite you to live with us again when your letter arrived with the surprising news of your marriage.”
“It is like a miracle that so much has fallen into place,” I said. “But you, Auntie? Are you well, truly?”
She squeezed my hands, smiling. “Yes, yes I am. I have friends here still, from when I was a girl. The neighbourhood has been most welcoming. I will always miss your uncle, and I have my sorrowful moments. But I am much improved.”
“I am so glad,” I said. “And you really will come to us this summer?”
“You may count upon it.” She gave a last squeeze to my fingers. “My dear girl, nothing felt miraculous while we were in the middle of our troubles, but now, on the other side of the worst of it, I can see how it was. Be patient, if you find marriage to be more difficult in the future than it is at present.”
“I think it more likely that my husband shall be the one requiring patience, of the two of us,” I laughed.
She looked a little troubled then, as if there was something she wished to add. Then she closed her mouth. “Be strong, my dear, and take good care,” was all she said.
