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Page 16
It was beautiful to see how Mabel grew into her aunt's virtues; and
even Mr. Goulding was startled by the energy and thoughtfulness of
her character. She soon convinced Mr. Lycight that her prospects grew
brighter in his love; and for a time he was romantic enough to wish
she had continued, penniless, and he had been born a peer, to prove
his disinterested affection. This, however, wore away, as man's
romance always does, and he absolutely became reconciled to his
bride's riches. Sarah Bond was living a very few years ago, beloved
and honoured, the fountain of prosperity and blessing to all who
needed. There was no useless expenditure, no show, no extravagance
in "the establishment" at the old manor house; but it was pleasant to
perceive the prosperity of the poor in the immediate neighbourhood;
there was evidence of good heads and kind hearts, superintending all
moral and intellectual improvements; there were flourishing schools,
and benevolent societies, and the constant exercise of individual
charities; and many said that Sarah Bond, and niece, and nephew, did
more good with hundreds than others did with thousands. From having
had practical experience of poverty, they understood how to remedy
its wants, and minister to its sorrows. And to the last hour of her
prolonged life, Sarah Bond remembered
THE USES OF ADVERSITY.
* * * * *
ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS.
CHAPTER I.
"There they go!" exclaimed old Mrs. Myles, looking after two
exceedingly beautiful children, as they passed hand in hand down
the street of the small town of Abbeyweld, to the only school,
that had "Seminary for Young Ladies," written in large hand, on a
proportionably large card, and placed against the bow window of an
ivied cottage. "There they go!" she repeated; "and though I'm their
grandmother, I may say a sweeter pair of children than Helen Marsh and
Rose Dillon never trod the main street of Abbeyweld--God bless them!"
She added earnestly, "God Almighty bless them!"
"Amen!" responded a kind voice; and turning round, Mrs. Myles saw the
curate of the parish, the Reverend Mr. Stokes, standing just at the
entry of her own house. To curtsey with the respect which in the "good
old times" was customary towards those who "meekly taught, and led the
way," and invite the minister in, was the work of a moment; the next
beheld Mrs. Myles and her visiter tete-a-tete in the widow's small
parlour. It was a cheerful, pleasant room, such as is often met with
in the clean villages of England. There were two or three pieces of
embroidery, in frames of faded gilding; an old-fashioned semicircular
card-table stood opposite the window, and upon it rested a filagree
tea-caddy, based by a mark-a-tree work-box, flanked on one side by the
Bible, on the other by a prayer-book; while on the space in front was
placed "The Whole Art of Cookery," by Mrs. Glasse. High-backed chairs
of black mahogany were ranged along the white-washed walls; a corner
cupboard displayed upon its door the magnificence of King Solomon, and
the liberality of the Queen of Sheba, while within glittered engraved
glasses, and fairy-like cups and saucers, that would delight the
hearts of the fashionables of the present day. Indeed, Mrs. Myles knew
their value, and prided herself thereon, for whenever the squire or
any great lady paid her a visit, she was sure, before they entered,
to throw the cupboard door slyly open, so as to display its treasures;
and then a little bit of family pride would creep out--"Yes, every one
said they were pretty--and so she supposed they were--but they were
nothing to her grandmother's, where she remembered the servants eating
off real India _chaney_." The room also contained a high-backed sofa,
covered with chintz; very stately, hard, and uncomfortable it was to
sit upon; indeed, no one except visiters ever did sit upon it, save
on Sundays, when Helen and Rose were permitted so to do, "if they
kept quiet," which in truth they seldom did for more than five minutes
together. "Moonlight"--Mrs. Myles's large cat--Moonlight would take
a nap there sometimes; but as Mrs. Myles, while she _hushed_ him off,
declared he was a "clean creature," it may be said that Moonlight was
the only thing privileged to _enjoy_ the sofa to his heart's content.
Why he liked it, I could not understand. Now she invited Mr. Stokes
to sit upon it; but he knew better, and took the window seat in
preference.
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