|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 12
"Have done with Mr. Barclay, and call me Frederic." Waiting only till
she assented to this, he took his leave; and Ethelind went, with a
heart overcharged with joy, to her mother, who had just awakened from
a tranquil slumber. It is needless to say how truly thankful Mrs.
Fortescue was. Her child's happiness seemingly so well secured, she
had only now to prepare for the solemn change that she felt was not
far distant.
From this time, however, her health gradually amended, and the day was
fixed for the union of Ethelind and Mr. Barclay. He settled that they
should, for the present, reside at the Rectory. Ethelind's countenance
brightened, for she fancied she had solved part of the mystery, and
that Mr. Eardly was not yet coming, and till his arrival they would be
permitted to reside there.
The evening before the ceremony was to take place, Mr. Barclay came in
with two ladies. One, a benign but august looking personage; the
other, a sylph-like, beautiful creature of eighteen, whom he
introduced as his mother and younger sister. Ethelind timidly but
gracefully received them. Their kind and easy manner soon removed the
little restraint there was at first, but she was still bewildered, and
could hardly fancy she was not dreaming; their appearance, too,
increased rather than diminished her wonder, for they were most
elegantly attired. After allowing a short time for conversation, she
went out and fetched her mother, and all parties seemed delighted with
each other. After sitting some time, Mr. Barclay, looking at his
mother, rose, and taking Ethelind's hand, said, "now, my disinterested
girl, allow me to introduce myself as Frederic Barclay Eardly!"
"Can it be possible!" exclaimed Mrs. Fortescue and Ethelind at once,
and with the utmost surprise, while Lady Eardly and her daughter sat
smiling and pleased spectators.
"Yes, my dear Ethelind; but the deception has been very unpremeditated
on my part, as you shall hear. Arriving in England alone, I came down,
merely intending to look round, having had some reason to be
dissatisfied with Mr. Jones, the acting curate, by whom, when I got to
the inn, I was supposed to be the new curate, and as such, I believe,
received very differently to what I should have been as the rector;
and anxious to know exactly the state of my parishioners, thought, in
the humble capacity, they had taken me, I might better do this. In
calling to see your mother, who, I thought, from her previous good
deeds in the parish, was likely to be an efficient adviser, I was
invited to tea, and from the conversation of both you and her, I
found, that while as the curate I should have free intercourse at the
cottage, as the Hon. Frederic Eardly the doors would be closed on me;
added to this, was a lurking hope that I might, eventually, gain your
affections, and know that you loved me for myself alone. Your reserve
however, dispelled, for a time, that illusion. Beatrice Trevor came
and threw out lures I could not resist, and I was fairly entrapped;
however, I will not dwell on what has led to such happy results.
Bennet, alone, knows my secret."
Lady Eardly now took an affectionate leave. She had brought a splendid
wedding dress for Ethelind, but her son insisted on her wearing the
plain white muslin she had herself prepared.
A union founded on such a basis, could not fail to bring as much real
happiness as mortals, subject to the vicissitudes of life, could
expect. Frederic Eardly passed many years of usefulness in his native
place, aided, in many of his good works, by his amiable wife. But
though blessed with many earthly comforts, they were not without their
trials, they had a promising family, but two or three were early
recalled; and in proportion to their affection for these interesting
children, was their grief at the severed links in the chain of earthly
love. The mother, perhaps, felt more keenly than the father, but both
knew they were blessings only lent, and they bowed submissively.
Beatrice was not heard of for some time, though Ethelind wrote
repeatedly, and named her second girl after her, and some eight or ten
years afterwards a letter came, written by Beatrice as she lay on her
death-bed, to be given to her little namesake on her seventeenth
birth-day. She left her all her jewels and a sum of money, but the
letter was the most valuable bequest, as it pointed out the errors
into which she had fallen, and their sad results. She had, it would
seem, accompanied the friend abroad to whose marriage she had gone,
and had once more marred her own prospects of happiness by her folly,
and once more had she injured the peace of others. Farther she might
have gone on, had she not sickened with the small-pox, of a most
virulent kind; she ultimately recovered; but her transcendent beauty
was gone, and she had now time to reflect on the past. Her affliction
was most salutary, and worked a thorough reformation, which, had her
life been spared, would have shown itself in her conduct.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|