The customs and
conventionalities of English life had no force here, and she was free to
act as she pleased. As the years passed by, David Chantrey lost forever
a secret lurking dread lest his wife's sin should be only biding its
time. He could go away in peace, and return home gladly, having almost
forgotten the reason of his exchanging the pleasant rectory of Upton for
the hard work of a colonial living.
From time to time letters reached them from Mrs. Bolton, complaining
bitterly of the changes introduced by the new rector, whose customs and
opinions constantly clashed with her own. She found herself put on one
side, and quietly neglected in all questions concerning the parish;
while her influence gradually died away. Again and again she urged her
nephew to return to England, promising that she would make him her heir,
and procure for him a living as valuable as the one he had resigned. She
could not understand that to a man like David Chantrey the calm happy
consciousness of days well spent, and the grateful remembrance of a
terrible sorrow having been removed, were better than anything earth
could give.
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