The World Before Them Volume Ii Part 7

"My father grew so fond of the beautiful child, that he offered to teach her gratis. Mrs. Knight was too proud to accept this at his hands; but she sent the child to school with us, and paid liberally for her education.

"We now sat upon the same form, learned from the same books, shared in the same amus.e.m.e.nts, and had but one heart between us.

"Childhood lives in the present, it remembers little of the past, and the future stretches before it like a summer sea, bounded by the heavens and bright with sunbeams. The morrow will be fair as to-day, it never antic.i.p.ates a storm, or thinks of the possibility of change. Alice and I were always to live together, the idea of separation found no place in our thoughts.

"Time rolled on, I had just completed my fifteenth year, when it pleased G.o.d to remove my dear father--a blow so sudden, so unexpected, that for a long time my poor mother and I were plunged into the deepest sorrow.

"He was a good man. I loved him without fear, entertaining for him the most profound respect and veneration; and feeling the fullest confidence in his attachment to me.

"This was my first grief, and if Alice had not been always near me to wipe away my tears, and inspire fresh hope into my fainting heart, I hardly think I should have survived the shock, and, for some months after the occurrence of the sad event, was threatened with consumption.

"My mother struggled bravely with her sorrow, for my sake. Our means always limited, became doubly so now. It was perhaps a mercy that we were called upon to work; not allowed to sit idle, and waste the precious time in unavailing regrets. Action is the best antidote for grief, occupation deadens suffering by forcibly detaching the mind to pursue other objects, which gives birth to new hopes as a necessary consequence.

"My mother opened a school for young ladies, and worked hard at her new vocation.

"An uncle, who was in a large wholesale business in London, exerted his influence to get me into Christ Church School, and was successful.

"Then came the parting with my mother, and dare I say it, worse still, my separation from Alice.

"It was a heart-breaking affair on all sides. I pitied my mother most, for she loved as keenly and had less of our sympathy, which as love is generally selfish, was almost entirely centred in our own sorrow.

"Boy as I was, I felt a sad presentiment that Alice and I were never destined to be so happy again, but the actual parting, so full of anguish to us, was not without its gleams of joy.

"It was the first of May, but we had not given that circ.u.mstance a thought, though its return in other years had always been hailed with delight. The day was fair and beautiful; the gra.s.s emerald green, and starred with myriads of daisies; the hedge-rows white with fragrant blossoms; the birds, happy lovers, singing glad carols from every bush and spray, the air soft, the heavens full of light fleecy clouds, floating in a sky of pearly blue.

"We sat down among the tufts of golden broom, upon a green slope at the far side of the common, where the high land that bounded the coast, gradually descended till it was lost in the long line of level marshes, through which the slow river dragged its sluggish length to the sea.

"It was a lonely spot; only frequented by the herds that fed upon the common; we had little dread of interruption. The public road was more than a mile distant; and it was a rare occurrence for anyone to pa.s.s that way. Here, no prying curious eyes could look upon our grief; we might indulge in the luxury of woe to the uttermost, without fearing a reproof for excess.

"Holding each other by the hand, we wept and bemoaned our sad fate, until we had no tears left to shed. Then we looked mournfully into each other's eyes, without uttering a word, entranced and full of speechless affection. In this eloquent silence, the long hours rolled on, all too short for us, until the church clock tolled six.

"I was to leave by the coach for London at seven. The sound, as it boomed along the hollow cliffs, startled us. Our dream of love was over.

The terrible reality of the parting stared us in the face.

"'Henry, we must go home.' sobbed Alice. 'You have still to bid your mother good-bye. She will be waiting for us.'

"These were the first words we had spoken, to each other.

"I wanted to tell Alice all the love I felt for her, though I was certain that she was as well acquainted with the fact as I was myself; and of her affection for me I entertained not a doubt, but I wanted to hear her promise to love me and only me, for ever and ever, and to return the blessed a.s.surance given to me, with interest, but my tongue was tied. I could not put my thoughts into language, the very intensity of my pa.s.sion rendered me dumb.

"We walked home silently together; my mother met us at the door. She too had been weeping, for her eyes were red and heavy.

"The tea was waiting for us on the table, but how could we eat? My mother did not press us, neither did she chide our long absence. She looked at us kindly through her tears.

"'Poor things!' I heard her murmur to herself. 'It is their first grief.'

"At any rate, we had her warm sympathy.

"She had packed my trunks during our absence, and they were in the pa.s.sage ready corded for the coach; before we were aware of it, the stage rattled up to the door, there was no time left for love pledging now, or heart-breaking farewells.

"One long, fond embrace from that dear mother. One kiss, the last I ever received from my child-love, and we parted, I to embark upon the stormy ocean of life, and Alice to return a sad and lonely creature to her miserable home, and the tender mercies of her harsh grandmother.

"A few weeks after I left S----, one of those strange incidents, which sometimes occur in life, separated us more effectually.

"The Lady Dorothy Fitzmorris, the mother of the present Earl, was then living at the Hall. Her eldest son--for Lord Wilton was not the heir--commanded a regiment in America during the War of Independence.

His brother Edward served as captain under him. Both were fine promising young men, they were her only children.

"Her husband, Sir Thomas Fitzmorris, had been dead for some years. The t.i.tle of Wilton did not belong to the Fitzmorris family, but came through her ladys.h.i.+p's father.

"Sir Thomas had a younger brother, Gerald, who was a distinguished officer in the army. I was for several years tutor to his sons. His wife ran off with a General Dallas. A duel ensued. Gerald Fitzmorris was shot by the man who had dishonoured him; and his wife followed her paramour to India. This brief story of the family is necessary for the better understanding of my story. How often have I wished that I had never known one of the name."

"Don't say that, Henry. It sounds like ingrat.i.tude when the Earl has been so kind to us," said Mrs. Martin.

The curate answered with a sigh, and continued his narrative.

"Well, the Lady Dorothy was an excellent woman, greatly beloved in the parish, for she was very kind to the poor, and was ready to help any one that stood in need of her a.s.sistance. She was a very beautiful woman.

When you see Dorothy Chance, you have a striking likeness of her ladys.h.i.+p; but without the dignity and nameless grace which generally belongs to the high born lady.

"Lady Dorothy happened one day to be in Mrs. Knight's shop, and Alice was behind the counter. Struck with the wonderful beauty of the young girl, she inquired of Mrs. Knight who she was, and when told that it was her grandchild, she complimented the old lady on her possessing such a treasure.

"'Treasure,' quoth Mrs. Knight, with a scornful glance at the object of the great lady's admiration. 'I set small store by such a treasure.

She has been a source of trouble and sorrow to me since the hour she was born. I should only be too glad to give her to any one who thought such a treasure worth having.'

"'Will you give her to me?' said my lady, as she observed the eyes of the lovely girl running over with tears. 'I want a person of her age, to attend upon me. I will pay her well, and have her educated according to her station.'

"'Your ladys.h.i.+p may take her, if you have a fancy for her. She will be prouder of being your servant than she is of being my child.'

"So my sweet little Alice was transplanted like a lovely wild flower into the Hall garden, and was soon lost to her early friends.

"My mother wrote me all about her favourite's good fortune; but the news gave me little pleasure. From that hour I had a presentiment of that which in after years actually came to pa.s.s.

"My uncle was in a good business in London, and he always invited me to spend my vacations with him. He had too large a family of his own, to help me in any other way; but he always contrived that my dear mother should meet me at his house during the holidays, and share with me his liberal hospitality.

"After my term of scholars.h.i.+p expired, I was entered as a servitor at Cambridge, and studied hard to obtain my degree, and get into holy orders.

"My mother was growing old, and her health was failing. I was anxious to give her a home, and release her from the fatiguing life in which she was engaged.

"Seven years had pa.s.sed away since Alice and I parted. My mother had long ceased to mention her in her letters; but her memory was as fresh in my heart as ever.

"The hope of her becoming my wife, directly I was able to support her, had been the great object of my life. It had supplied me with the energy and perseverance, in which physically I had always been deficient. I returned to the home of my childhood, full of happy antic.i.p.ations. I was no longer a boy, but a thoughtful, studious man, with no stain upon my reputation, having earned a high character both at school and during my college life.

"Oh; well I remember the first time I saw Alice after my return to S----. She was in Lady Dorothy's carriage, seated beside her ladys.h.i.+p, with a beautiful infant in her lap.

"I raised my hat as the equipage pa.s.sed. She did not recognize me. I do not think she noticed me at all. The hot blood flushed my face.

Mortified and cut to the heart, I hurried home.

"My mother seemed to comprehend what had happened.

"'You have seen Alice?' she said.