Sidebilder
PDF
ePub

listened with the air of one who is unexpectedly placed in an embarrassing situation. When I had finished speaking, she rose, and closing the door, which had been left unlatched, “you mentioned Mrs. Harmer's name," said she, hesitatingly: "May I ask if you are a friend of hers?"

In reply to this question, I briefly stated the circumstances under which my former slight acquaintance with that lady had commenced, adding, that a desire to obtain tidings of Elizabeth had been my sole motive for renewing it.

Mrs. Porter's manner became more unreserved and friendly after this explanation, She informed me that Elizabeth and her mother resided in obscure lodgings at no great distance; that they were dependent upon the bounty of Mrs. Dalton's only brother, who, although a country gentleman in affluent circumstances, had a large family of his own, and was not disposed to be very kind or liberal towards his sister, whose marriage he had disapproved. Elizabeth, she said, was quite an invalid. The misfortunes which had befallen her family, joined to the disgrace attaching to her father's name, had so decidedly affected her general health, as to render it probable she would follow her sister, who had died of consumption a few months previously.

"And Arthur?" inquired I, timidly.

"He was at a public school when his father's embarrassments became known, and unable to brook the degradation and reverse of circumstances, he went to sea and has not been heard of for some time."

Having obtained the information I desired, I thanked Mrs. Porter for her politeness, and begged she would give me Mrs. Dalton's address; adding, that as the distance was not great, I would at once proceed to her lodgings, and seek an interview with my friend.

"Had you not better delay your visit until to morrow?" she suggested: "in the mean time I will not fail to apprise Miss Dalton of your wish."

"By no means," I replied: "I shall greatly prefer taking Elizabeth by surprise, and feel no doubt of her willingness to renew our acquaintance."

"In that case," rejoined the lady with some degree of her

former embarrassment, I may as well inform you that the young person who left the room as you entered was Miss Dalton herself."

I had risen to take leave, but so completely did this intelligence startle me, that I lost my presence of mind, and sitting down, I burst into tears.

"No doubt your friend appears greatly altered," observed kind Mrs. Porter, in a soothing tone: "poverty and sickness bring about sad changes, and you will now comprehend why this dear young lady avoids the notice of strangers. I think it probable she did not recognise you, considering you merely an acquaintance of Mrs. Harmer; and I am sorry to add, the friends of that lady are not in general disposed to think kindly of Mrs. Dalton or her family."

With this, Mrs. Porter left me abruptly, and after some time returned, accompanied by Elizabeth.

But was it possible that the gay, graceful, wayward child I had known a few short years before, had become metamorphosed into the drooping, fragile young woman, whose timid and subdued manner contrasted so forcibly with the cheerful ease and gaiety which had characterised the Elizabeth of former days, a change that affected me still more deeply than her altered looks!

I will not attempt to describe our interview. Few words were spoken, but we mingled our tears together, and before we separated, I obtained permission to visit her frequently during my stay in town.

The Psalmist has beautifully recorded the difficulty he experienced in reconciling the apparent prosperity of the wicked with the justice of God; and I must confess that I felt a strange mixture of sorrow and perplexity when reflecting on the sad reverses which had befallen Mrs. Dalton and her children; nor did I hesitate to open my mind fully to my father, who listened with deep interest to the particulars of my interview with Elizabeth, to my account of the trying situation of her mother, and finally, to my own views and feelings upon the subject.

"I can easily comprehend your feelings, my dear daughter,” he said, "they are natural-that is, natural to our fallen condition and our weak and imperfect faith. Could we habitually

think of God as a tender and compassionate Father, who chastises his erring children for their good and in mercy, we should not be thus ready to question the justice of his dealings towards them. Affliction is the consequence and penalty of sin; yet though in itself an evil, it is graciously intended to benefit the sinner, by leading him to feel his utter helplessness, and making him willing to accept salvation in the appointed way, through faith in a crucified Saviour.

"God, who is infinite in wisdom as well as in mercy, knows precisely the kind of trials most needed by his creatures, and suits his providential dealings to each peculiar case. Severe as Mrs. Dalton's trials have been, if they are sanctified to her spiritual good, all will be well. If they prove the means of weaning her affections from earth, and raising them to heaven; if, finding worldly friends fail, she is enabled to put her trust in the Friend of sinners; will she not realise the experience of the apostle, who could say, 'Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh out for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.'

"Yes," continued my dear father, whilst an expression of placid joy and holy benevolence overspread his animated countenance, "I hope better things are in store for these dear ladies, even things which accompany salvation, and that these mysterious and trying events will prove to be among the 'all things' which shall work together' for their eternal good. Let us hope that we also may be of use to them. I must beg you to take me along with you to-morrow, to pay them a visit. If we cannot render them much assistance, we can at least offer our Christian sympathy."

"Thank you, dear papa, that is the very thing I wished—you will know how to speak words of hope and comfort to dear Mrs. Dalton, and you will also be able to form an opinion respecting Elizabeth. Oh! how I do hope that opinion will agree with mine."

"In what respect Caroline?" he asked.

"I am unwilling to believe that her state of health is as hopeless as Mrs. Porter imagines. I think she wants rousing from a sort of gloomy, morbid resignation, into active exertion. If she could become interested in some occupation, for instance."

"Very true, my dear, you must endeavor to convince her that Christians should neither repine nor despair. A repining spirit is generally an inactive one. You must encourage your friend to look forward. Lamenting over the past casts a shadow over the future. I advise you to give her the benefit of your own experience, and if possible to persuade her to follow your example."

According to appointment, we called upon Mrs. Dalton the following day. She seemed grateful for the attention, yet there was in her manner a calm and dignified politeness, which checked any approach to intimacy. She nevertheless consented that Elizabeth should visit us occasionally during our stay in town; and I did not neglect the opportunity thus afforded of endeavoring to rouse my friend from the state of despondency into which ill health and anxiety had plunged her. She listened with evident interest to the history of my little school, expressed warm approval of the motives which had led me to commence it, but did not seem to have the slightest idea of applying the subject to herself. Provoked by what I considered her insensibility on this point, I at length ventured to speak plainly.

She had been spending the day with me, and had appeared peculiarly depressed.-Referring to our school days—“ Oh! Caroline!" she said, "I used, when a child, to wonder what the end of our education would be-but little thought that in my case it would come to this."

"To what? dear Elizabeth," I asked.

"To the misery of being dependent upon the charity of relatives who scarcely know us," she rejoined.

"Then why do you not strive to render yourself independent ?” I enquired.

Elizabeth changed color, but seemed doubtful of my meaning. "Of course I am supposing that your health be re-established. In that case you will be able to exert yourself."

She blushed deeply.-" Are you not joking? Caroline,” said she. "Alas! I am fit for nothing."

"I beg your pardon, Elizabeth; you are able to do as I have done, with one important advantage over me."

"Indeed!" she returned, with something of her former archness of expression. "And what may that be?"

"The knowledge of music," I replied.

"And let me assure

you, Elizabeth, the possession of a fine voice, correct taste, and good execution, is a greater advantage than either of us foresaw when we were companions at the Manor-house."

“I have no piano, and am altogether out of practice: besides, I have lost my voice, and the taste and execution you give me credit for have departed also."

"The want of a piano is a real difficulty," I observed. "If that can be overcome you will soon regain all you have lost by a little practice."

"Very well; let us imagine that I am once more possessed of a piano,-what then? Eh, Caroline."

“Then you must try to gain pupils, my dear."

"Ah! that is the difficulty. I am not like you, surrounded by friends anxious to serve and benefit me: " and Elizabeth sighed deeply.

66

Surely," I remarked, " amongst your numerous acquaintances some would prove themselves friends — Sir Edward Staunton, for instance"

"Has refused my mother the only favor she ever asked him, -an official appointment for poor Arthur, who, being resolute in his determination to leave England, might have done so with advantage to himself and his family, had Sir Edward been inclined to serve him. No, dear Caroline, I know of no friends we possess, excepting yourself and Mrs. Porter, who was formerly mamma's maid, and has proved truly grateful and devoted to us. Believe me there is no chance of my succeeding as a teacher of music. I wish you needed assistance in your school, Caroline; in that case I should have a strong motive for exertion."

I struggled to command my countenance, for Elizabeth had unconsciously given expression to an idea which I had secretly cherished from the time of our first interview. Seeing many difficulties in the way of its accomplishment, I had not mentioned the subject, and was now happily spared the necessity of noticing the remark. My dear father, who had been dozing in his easy-chair, at this instant opened his eyes, and taking Elizabeth's hand,-" Did I not hear Miss Dalton complain that she had no friends ?" he asked.

« ForrigeFortsett »