But this was a very mournful consolation, for in every thought and act of the whole work, the memory of Marian was so intimately woven, that her loss was felt with double keenness.  Every effort was doubly difficult; every obstacle was doubly great; every discouragement doubly hopeless, because she was not there with her very presence inspiring hope and energy—­and every success was robbed of its joy, because she was not there to rejoice with him.  He missed her in all things; he missed her everywhere.  Solitude had fallen upon all the earth from which she had passed away.  Because her face was gone, all other faces were repulsive to his sight; because her voice was silent, all other voices were discordant to his ear; because her love was impossible, all other friendships and affections were repugnant to his heart; and Thurston, young, handsome, accomplished and wealthy, became a silent and lonely man.

The estate left by old Cloudesley Willcoxen had exceeded even the reports of his hoarded wealth.  The whole estate, real and personal, was bequeathed to his eldest grandson, Thurston Willcoxen, upon the sole condition that it should not be divided.

Dell-Delight, with its natural beauties, was a home that wealth could convert into a material paradise.  Once it had been one of Thurston’s happiest dreams to adorn and beautify the matchless spot, and make it worthy of Marian, its intended mistress.  Now he could not bear to think of those plans of home-beauty and happiness so interwoven with fond thoughts of her.  So poignant were the wounds of association, that he could scarcely endure to remain in a neighborhood so filled with reminiscences of her; and he must have fled the scene, and taken refuge from memory in foreign travel, had he suffered from bereavement and sorrow only; but he was tortured by remorse, and remorse demands to suffer and to atone for sin.  And, therefore, though it spiritually seemed like being bound to a wheel and broken by its every turn, he was true to his resolution to remain in the county and devote his time, wealth, and abilities to the completion of Marian’s unfinished works of benevolence.

Dell-Delight remained unaltered.  He could not bear to make it beautiful, since Marian could not enjoy its beauty.  Only such changes were made as were absolutely necessary in organizing his little household.  A distant relative, a middle-aged lady of exemplary piety, but of reduced fortune, was engaged to come and preside at his table, and take charge of Miriam’s education, for Miriam was established at Dell-Delight.  It is true that Mrs. Waugh would have wished this arrangement otherwise.  She would have preferred to have the orphan girl with herself, but Commodore Waugh would not even hear of Miriam’s coming to Luckenough with any patience—­“For if her mother had married ‘Grim,’ none of these misfortunes would have happened,” he said.