ple, who had
not the faculty of getting on by themselves, into her way, and Lucy had
promptly, or at least as promptly as indignant guardians would permit,
provided for them in the modest way which was all her ideas reached to
at the time. But around the Hall there was nobody to whom the same
summary process could be applied. The people about were either working
people, whom it is always easy to help, or well-off people, who had no
wants which Lucy could supply. And this continued to be so even after
her fright and determination to return to the work that had been
allotted to her. No doubt, could she have come down to the hearts and
lives of the neighbours who visited Lady Randolph on the externally
equal footing which society pretends to allot to all gentlefolks, she
would have found several of them who would have been glad to free her
from her money; but then she could not see into their hearts. She did
not know what a difficult thing it was for Mr. Routledge of Newby to pay
the debts of his son when he had left college, or how hardly hit was
young Archer of Fordham in the matter of the last joint-stock bank that
stopped payment. If they had not all been so determined to hold up their
heads with the best, and keep up appearances, Lucy might have managed
somehow to transfer to them a little of the money which she wanted to
get rid of, and of which they stood so much in need. But this was not to
be thought of; and when she cast her eyes around her it was with a
certain despair that Lucy saw no outlet whatever for those bounties
which it had seemed to her heaven itself was concerned about, and had
warned her not to neglect. Many an anxious thought occupied her mind on
this subject. She thought of calling her cousin Philip Rainy, who was
established and thriving at Farafield, and whose fortune had been
founded upon her liberality, to her counsels. But if Sir Tom had
disliked the confidences between her and her brother, what would he
think of Philip Rainy as her adviser? Then Lucy in her perplexity turned
again to the thought of Jock. Jock had a great deal more sense in him
than anybody knew. He had been the wisest child, respected by everybody;
and now he was almost a man, and had learned, as he said, a great deal
at school. She thought wistfully of the poor curate of whom Jock had
told her. Very likely that poor clergyman would do very well for what
Lucy wanted. Surely there could be no better use for money than to endow