Aguilar_Home_Influence.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
CHAPTER I.
A, LAUSCH. A. PROMISE. A. NEW RELAilOK.
In a very beautiful part of Walea, between the northern
boundaries of Glamorgau and the south-eastern of Carmarthen-
ehire, there stood, some twenty or thirty years ago, a small
straggling village. Its locality was so completely concealed
that the appearance of a gentleman's carriage, or, in fact, any
vehicle superior to a light spring-cart, was of such extremely
rare occurrence as to be dated, in the annals of LlangwiUan, as
a remarkable event, providing the simple villagers with amus-
ing wonderment for weeks.
The village was scattered over the side of a steep and rug-
ged lull ! and on the east, emerging from a thick hedge of yews
and larches, peeped forth the picturesque old church, whose
lin-eoated spire, gUttering in the famtest sunshine, removed all
appearance of gloom from the thick trees, and seemed to whis-
per, whatever darkness lingered round, hght was always shin-
ing there. The churchyard, which the yews and larches screen-
ed, was a complete natural garden, from the lowly cottage
flowers, planted by loving hands over many a grassy grave, and
so hallowed that not a child would pluck them, however tempt-
ad by their luxuriance and beauty. A pretty cottage, whosa
while walls were covered with jasmine, roses, and honeysuckle,
marked the humble residence of the village minister, who
though in worldly rank only a poor curate, ft'om liia spiritual
gifts deserved a much higher grade.
A gurgling stream ran leaping and sparkling over tLe craggy
hill till it formed a deep, wide bed for itself along the road lead-
ing to the nearest town, embanked on one side by a tall leafj
hedge, and on the other by rich grass and meadow flowers. Bj
the side of this stream groups of vUlage children were continu-
ally found, sometimes reaching for some particular flower or
insect, or floating pieces of wood with a twig stuck upright
Within Ihem as tiny fleets ; but this amusement had given place
the last ten days to the greater excitement of watching the pro-
gress of a miniature frigate, the workmanship of a ^oung lad
who had only very lately become an inmate of the village. All
had been at length completed, sails, ropes, and masts, with a
degree of neatness and beauty, showing not only ingenuity but
observation ; and one loveVy summer evening the ceremony of
launching took place. For a few minutes she tottered and
reeled amid the tiny breakers, then suddenly reg^ed her equi-
librium and dashed gallantly along. A loud shout burst from
the group, from alt save the owner, a beautiful boy of some
twelve years, who contented himself with raising his slight
figure to its fuU height, and looking proudly and triumphantly
round him. One glance would suffice to satisfy that his rank
in life was far superior to that of his companions, and that be
condescended from circumstances, not from choice, to mingle
with them. So absorbed was the general attention that fiie
very unusual sound of carriage-wheels was unremarked until
close beside them, and then so astounding was the sight of a
private . carriage and the coachman's very simple quesljon if
that road led to the village, that all hung back confused. The
owner of the little vessel, however, answered proudly and
briefly in the aflirmative. "And can you direct me, my good
boy," inquired a lady, looking from the window, and smiling
kindly at the abashed group, " to the residence of Mrs. Tor-
tescue. It is out of the village, is it not ? "
" Mi's, Fortescue ! " repeatod the boy eagerly and gladly,
and bis cap was off his head in a moment, and the bright sun-
Bhine streamed on a face of such remarkable beauty, and withal
Bo. familiar, that though the lady bent eagerly forward to
address him, emotion so choked her voice that the lad was
enabled to reply to her inquiry, and direct the coachman to the
only inn of the village, and they had driven off, before worda
returned.
The loj- looked eagerly after them, then desii-ing one of hit
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HOME IMFLUESCE. 3
sompanions to meet the lady at the inn, and guide her to the
cottage, caught up his little Tcssel, and darted off across soma
fields which led hy a shorter cut to the same place.
It was a very humhle dwelling, so surrounded by hills that
their shadow always seemed to overhang it : yet within, the
happy temper of a poor widow and her daughter kept up a
perpetual sunshine. Three weeks previous to the evening ive
have mentioppd, a lady and two children had arrived at Liang-
willao, unable to proceed farther from the severe indisposi-
tion of the former. They were unattended, and the driver only
knew that their destination was Swansea ; he believed they
had been shipwrecked off Pembroke, and that the poor lady
was very ill when she commenced her journey, but the curious
inquiries of the villagers could elicit nothing more. Mr. Myr-
vin, with characteristic benevolence, devoted himself to insur-
ing, as far as he could, the comfort of the invalid ; had her
removed iirona the inn to Widow Morgan's cottage,- confident
that there she would at least be nursed with tenderness and
care, and so near him as to permit his constant watchfulness.
But a very few days too sadly convinced him, not only that her
disease was mortal, but that his presence and gentle accents
irritated instead of soothed. EI-fmper and self-wiU seemed (o
increase with the weakness, which every day rendered her
loEg^og lo continue her journey more and more futile. It was
some days before she could even be persuaded to write to the
relative she was about to seek, so determined was she that she
would get well ; and when the letta- was forwarded, and long
before an answer could have been received (for twenty years
ago there were no railroads to carry on epistolary communica-
tion as now,) fretfulness and despondency increased physical
suffering, by the determined conviction that she was abandon-
ed, her children would be left uncared for. In vain Mr. Myr-
vin assured her of the impossibility yet to receive a reply, that
the direction might not even have been distinct enough, for her
memory had failed her in dictating it ; ehe knew she was de-
serted, she might have deserved it, but her Edward was inno-
cent, and it was very hard on him. As self-will subsided in
physical exhaustion, misery increased. A restless torturing
remembrance seemed to have taken possession of her, which all
the efforts of the earnest clergyman were utterly ineffectual to
remove. She would not listen to the peace he proffered, and
so painfully did his gentle eloquence appear to irritate instead
of eatm, tiiat he desisted,' earnestly praying, that her sister
might answer the letter in person, and by removing an liety
propare-the mind for better thoughts.
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i HOME INFLUEfJOI^
One object alone had power to bring something hke a smUe
tc that altered but stilt most beautiful countenance, conquei
even, irritation, and still create intervals of pleasure it wa&
her son, the same beautiful boy we have already noticed, and
whose likeness to herself was so extraordinary tliat it would
have heen almost too feminine a beauty, had it not been foi
the sparkling animated expression of every feature, and the
manly self-possession which characterized his every movement,
That he should be his mother's idol was not very surprising,
for the indiscreet and lavish indulgence which had been his
from birth, had not yet had power to shake his doating fond-
ness for his mother, or interfere with her happiness by the
risible display of the faults which her weainess had engender-
ed. Caressingly affectionate, open-hearted, generous, and ever
making her his Jirst object, perhaps even a more penetrating
mother would have seen nothing fo dread but ail to love. His
uncontrolled passion at the slightest cross, his haughty pride
and indomitable w'll toward all save her, but increased her
affecUon. And when he was with her, which he was very
ofton, considering that a sick close room would have been utterly
repugnant to him had it not contained his mother, Mrs. Fortes-
cue was actually happy. But it was a happiness only increas-
ing her intensity of suffering when her son was absenl^ Hide
It from herself as she might, the truth would press upon her
thai she was dying, and her darling must be left to the care of
relations indeed, but utter strangers to him, and unlikely to
treat him as she had done. She knew .that he had, what strict
disciplinarians, as she chose to regard her sister and her hus-
band, would term and treat as serious faults, while she felt
them actually virtues ; and agony for him iu the dread of what
he might be called upon to endure, would deluge her pUlow
with passionate teai^, and shake her slight frame as with con-
vulsion.
The day we have mentioned, Edward had been absent longer
than usual, and toward evening Mrs. Fortoscue awoke from
a troubled sleep to brood over these thoughts, till they had pro-
duced their usual effect in tears and sobs, the more painful to
(vitness from the increasing physical incapacity to struggle with
A little girl, between ten and eleven years old, was seated
on a low wooden stool, half concealed by the coarse curtMn of
the bed, employed in sewing some bright gilt buttons on a blue
jacket. It seemed hard work for those small, delicate hands;
but she did not look up from her task till roused by the too
familiar sound of her motker'a suafeiing, and then, as slie raised
her Lead, and flung hack the hoavy and somewhai disordered
ringlets, the impulse seenied to be to spring up and try to soothe,
but a mouKiful expi^ession quickly succeeded, and she sat several
minutes without moving. At length, as Mrs, Fortescue's sohs
seemed almost to suffocate her, the child gently hent over her,
saying, very timidly, "Dear mamma, shah I call widow Mor-
gan, or can I get any thing for you ? " and, without waiting for
a reply, save die angry negative to the first question, she held
a glass of water to her mother's lips and bathed her forehead,
Atler a few. minutes Mrs. .Fortescue revived sufficiently lo in-
quh'e where Edward was.
" He has gone down to the sti-eam to launch Ms little frigate,
mamma, and asked me to fasten these buttons on his jacket, to
make it look like a sailor's mcaawhilej I do not thiak he will
he very long now."
Mrs. Fortescue made no rejoinder, except to utter aloud those
thoughts which had caused her previous paroxysm, and her little
girl, after a very evident struggle with her own painful timidity,
ventured to say :
"But why should you fear so much for Edward, dear mam-
ma? Everybody loves Iii't and admires him, so I am sure my
aunt and uncle wiiL"
"Tour aunt may for my sake, bat she will not love or hear
with his childish faults as I have done ; and your undo is such
a harsh, stern man, that there is little hope for his forbearance
with my poor Edward. And he is so frank and bold, he will
not know how even to conceal his boyish errors, and he will be
punished, and his fine spirit broken, and who will bo there to
shield and soothe him ! "
"I may be able sometimes, mamma, and indeed, indeed, I
will whenever I can," i-eplied her child, with affecting earnests
cess. " I love him so very, very much, and I know he is ao
much better than I am, tbat it will be very easy to help him
whenever I can."'
"Will you promise- me, Ellen, will you really promise me to
shield him, and save him from harshness whenever it is in your
power," exclaimed Mrs. Fortescue, so eagerly, that she half
raised herself, and pressed Ellen to her. with an appearance of
affection so unusual, and a kiss so warm, that that moment never
passed from the child's mind, and the promise she gave was re-
gistered in her own heart,' with a solemnity and firmness of pur
pose, little imagined by her mother, who, when she demanded it,
conceived neither its actual purport nor extent ; she only felt
relieved that Edward would have some one by bim, to loro biin
aud enable trm to conceal hia errors, if he should commit any.
Had elie studied and known the character of EUen as she did
that of her son, that promise would perhaps never have been
asked ; noi' would she so incautiously and mistakenly have laid
so great a stress upon cOTicealment, as the only sure means of
guarding from blame. From iier childhood Mrs. Fortescue had
been a creature of passion and impulse, and maternity had un.
happily not altered one tittle of her character. lu what man-
ner, or at what cost, Ellen might be enabled to keep that pro-
mise, never entered her mind. It had nfiver been her wont,
even in days of health, to examine or reflect, and present weak-
ness permitted only the morbid indulgence of one exaggerated
thought.
For several minutes she lay quite silent, and EUen resumed
her seat and work, her temples throbbing, she knew not why,
and a viun longing to throw her arms round her mother's neck,
and entreat her only for one more kiss, one other word of love ;
and the consciousness that she dared not, caused the hot tears
to rush into her eyes, and almost blind liec, but she would not
let them fall, for she had learned long ago, that while Edward's
tears only excited soothing and caresses, hers always called
forth irritation and reproof.
"Joy, joy! Mother, darling!" exclaimed an eager voice,
some minutes aftrward, and Edward bounded into the room,
and throwing himself by his mother's aide, kissed her pale cheek
again and again. "Such joy! My ship sailed so beautifully, I
quite longed for you to see it, and you viiR oiie day when you
get well and strong again; and I know you will soon now, for I
am sure aunt Emmeline will very soon come, and then, then,
you will bo so happy, and we sb^ all be happy again ! "
Mrs. Fortescue pressed him closer and closer to her, return-
ing big kisses with such passionate fondness, tliat tears mingled
with them, and fell upon bis cheek,
" Don't cry, mamma, dear ! indeed, indeed, my aunt will soon
come. Do you know I think I have seen her and spoken to
her too?"
" Seen her, Edward ? Tou mean you have dreamed about
her, and so fancy yon have seen her;" but the eager, anxious
look she fixed upon him evinced more hope than her words.
"No, no, mamma; as we were watching my sliip, a carriage
passed ua, and a lady spoke to me, and asked me the way to
the cottage wher; you lived, and I am sure it is aunt Emmeline
from her smile,"
"It cannot lie," murmured his mother, 30x117; "unless "
and her countenance brightened. "Did she speak to you, Ed-
ward, as if she knew you, recognized you, from your likeness
tome?"
"No, mamma, there v-asno time, the carriage drove off again
so quickly ; but, hush ! I am sure I hear her voice down stairs,
and he sprung up from the bed and listened e^erly, "Yes,
yes, I am right, and she is commg up; no, it's only widow
Morgan, biit I am sure it is my aunt by your face," he added,
impatiently, as Mrs. Morgan tried by signs to beg him to be
more cautious, and not to agitate his mother. "Why don't you
Jet her come np ? " and springing down the whole flight of stairs
in two bounds, he rushed into the little parlor, caught hold of
the lady's dress, and exclaimed, " You are my aunt, my own
dear aunt; do come up to mamma, she has been wanting you
BO long, so very long, and you will make her well, dear aunt,
will you not?"
"Oh, that I may be allowed to do so, dear boy!" was the
painfully f^itatod reply, and she hastened up the stsura.
But to Edward's grief and astonishment, so little was he con-
icious of his mother's exhausted state, the sight of his aunt, pre-
pared in some measure as she was, seemed to bring increase of
suffering instoad of joy. There was a convulsive effort for
speech, a passionate return of her sister's embrace, and she faint-
ed, Edward in terror flung himself beside her, entreating her
not to look so pale, but to wake and speak to him. EUen, with
a quickness and decision, which even at that moment caused her
nunt to look at her with astonishment, applied the usual restor-
atives, evincing no unusual alai'm, and a careless observer might
have swd, no feeling; but itwaa only a momentary, thought
which Mrs. Hamilton could g^ve to Ellen, every feeling was en-
grossed in the deep emotion with which she gazed on the faded
form and altored face of that still beloved though erring one;
who, when she had last beheld her, thirteen years previous, was
bright, buoyant, lovely as the boy beside them Her voice j et,
more than the proffered remedies, seemed to recall life, and
after a brief interval the choking thought found words
"My father! my father! Oh, Emmehne I know that he is
dead! My disobedience, my ingratitude foi all his too indul-
gent love, killed him ~ I know it did. But did he curse me,
Emmeliae ? did all his love turn to wrath, as it ought to hove
done ? did "
"Dearest Eleanor," replied Mra. Ilamdfon, with eaine'ii
tenderness, "dismiss such painfiil thoughlt at or e om yori
father did feci yoiir conduct deeply, but he forgave it, wouH
have receiv^ed your husband, caressed, loved yon as before, had
you but returned to him ; and so loved you to tlio last moment,
that your name was the last word upon his lips. But this is no
subject for such youthfuV auditors," she continued, interrupting
herself, as she met Edward's bright eyes fixed wouderingly
upon her face, and noticed the excessive paleness of Ellen's
cheek. "Tou look weary, my love," she said, kindly, drawing
her niece to her, and affectionately kissing her. "Edward has
made his own acquaintance with me, why did you not do so
too? But go now into the garden for a little while, I am sure
you want fresh air, and I will take your place as nui-se mean-
while. Will you trust me ? "
And the kind smile which accompanied her words gave Ellen
courage to return her kiss, but she left the room without speak-
ing. Edward required more persuasion; and the moment he
was permitted he returned,. seated himself on a stool at his aunt's
feet, laid his head on her lap, and remained for nearly an hour
quite silent^ watching with her the calm slumbers which had
followed the agitating conversation.between them. Mrs. Hamil-
ton was irresistibly atti-acted toward him, and rather wondered
that Ellen should stay away so long. She did not know that
Edward had spent almost the whole of that day in the joyous
Bports Datural to his age, and that it had been many weary days
and nights since Ellen had quitted her mothei-'s room.
CHAPTEK II.
GLIMPSKS ISTO A CHILD'S HEART. A DRATHBEl).
On leaving the cottage, EHen hastily ti'aversed the littla
garden, and entered a narrow lane, leading to Mr, Myrviu's
dwelling. Her little heart was swelling high within her, and
the confinement she had endured, the constant control she exer-
cised for fear she should add to her mother's irritation, com-
bined with the extreme delicacy of natural constitution, had so
wealtened her as to render the slightest exertion painfuL She
had been so often reproved as fretful and ill-tempered, when-
ever in tears, that she always checked and concealed thi:m.
She had been so frequently told that she did not know what
affection tt as, U'.at slie was so inanimate and cold, thai tliougli
she did not understand the actual meaning of the words, she
believed she was different to any ooe else, and was nobappy
without knowing why. Compared with lier brother, elie cer-
tainly was neither a pretty nor an engaging child. Weakly
ftom her birth, her residence in India had increased constitu-
tional delicacy, and while to a watchful eye the expression of
her countenance denoted constant suffering, the heedless and
Buperfidal observer would condemn it as peevishness^ and so
unnatural to a young child, that nothing but eonflrmed ill-
temper could have produced it. The soft, beautifuUy-formed
black eye was too large for her other features, and the sallow-
ness of her complexion, the heavy tresses of very dark hair,
caused her to be remarked as a very plain child, which in
reaEty she was not. Accustomed to hear beauty eslolled
above every thing else, beholding it in her mother and brother,
and imagining it was Edward's great beauty that always made
him so beloved and petted, an evil-disposed child -would -hate
felt nothing but envy and dishke toward him. But Ellen felt
neither. She loved him devotedly; but tiat any one could
love her, now that the only one who ever had, -^ her idolised
father, was dead, she thought impossible.
"Why her heart and temples beat so quickly as she left her
mother's room why the promise she had so lately made
should so cling to her mind, that even her aunt's arrival could
not remove it-- why she felt so giddy and weak as fo render
walking painful, the poor child could not have told, but, unable
eA length to go iarther, she sat down on a grassy bank, and
believing herself quite alone, ci'ied bitterly. Several minutes
passed and she did not look up, till a well-known voice in-
quired,
" Dear Ellen, what is the matter ? What has happened to
grieve you so fo-day ? won't you tell me ? "
"Indeed; indeed, I do not know, dear Arthur; I only feel
feel as if I had not so much strength as I had a few days
ago and, and I could not help" crying."
"Ton ai'e not weU, Ellen," replied her companion, a fine lad
of sixteen, and Mr. Myrvin's only. son. "Yon are locking
paler than I ever saw you before ; let me call my father. Yo.i
know lie is always pleased when he sees you, and he hoped
you would have been to os before to-day; come with me to
him ROW."
^ N'o, Arthur, mdeed I cannot ; he wiU think 1 have forgoir
ten all he siud to me the last time I saw him, %iid, indeed, 1
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10 UOME raFLliENCE.
have not ijut I I do not know wiiat is the matter wUfe me
to-daf."
Ajid, in spite of all her efforts to restrain them, the tears
woali burst forlli afreali; and Arthur, finding all his efforts at
consolation ineffectual, contented himself with putting his arm
round her and kissing them away. A few minutes afterward
his father appeared.
" In teaiB, my dear Ellen ! " he said, kindly ; " your mofliei
is not worse, I hope ? "
" I do not laiow, sir," replied the child, as well as her tears
would permit; "she has been yery ill just now, for her faiat
was longer than usual."
" Did any thing particular occasion it ? "
" I think it was seeing my aunt. Mamma was very much
agitated before and afterward."
"Mrs. Hamilton has arrived then! I am rejoiced to hear
it," replied Mr. Myrvin, gladly. Then sitting down by Ellen,
he took one of her hands in las, and stud, kindly, " Something
has grieved my little girl this evening; I will not ask what it
is, because you may not like to toll me ; but you must not
imagine evils, Ellen. I know you have done, and are doing,
the duty of a good, affectionate child, nursing your suffering
mother, bearing with intervals of impatience, which her invalid
state occasions, and giving up all your own wishes to sit quietly
by her : I have not seen you, my child, but I know those who
have, and this has pleased me, and, what is of much more con-
sequence, it proves you have not forgotten all I told you of
your Father in Heaven, that even a little child can try to love
and serve Him."
" But have you not told me those who are good are always
happy?" inquired Ellen ; " then I cannot bo good, tliough in-
deed I try to he so, for I do not think I am happy, for I can
never laugh and sing and talk as Edwai-d does."
"You are not in so strong health aa your brother, my dear
little girl, and you have had many things to make you unhappy,
which Edwai'd has not. But you must try and remember tliat
even if it please God that sometimes you should be more sor-
rowful than other children, He loves you notwithstanding. I
am STire you have not forgotten the story of Joseph that I told
you a few Sundays ago. God so loved him, as to give him the
power of foretelling future events, and enabling him to dc fi.
great deal of good, but when ho was taken away fj-om his
father and sold as a slave and cast into prison among cruel
strangers, he could not have been very happy, Ellen. Yet still,
joimg as lie was, little more thaa a cMld in tliose days, and
thrown among those who did not know right from wrong he
reniemhered all that hia father had taught him, and prayed to
Gcd, and tried to bve and obey Him ; and God was pleased
with him, sind gave him grace to continue good, and at last eo
blessed him, as to permit liim to see his dear father and darling
bi-other again."
" But jMeph was his father's favorite child," was Ellen's
sole rejoinder ; and the tears which were checked in the eager-
ness with which she had listened, seemed again ready to burst
forth. " He must have been happy when he thought of that."
" I do not think so, my dear Ellen," replied Mr. Myrvin,
more moved than he chose to betray, " for being his father's
favorite first excited the dislike and envy of his broUiers, and
caused them to wish to send him away. There was no excuse
indeed for their conduct ; but perhaps if Joseph had. always
renwuned near his father he might have been spoiled by too
great indulgence, and never become as good as he afterwards
was. Perhaps in Ms solitary prison he might even liave re-
gretted that his &ther had not treated them all ahke, as then
the angiy feelings of his brothers would not have been cfdled
forth. So you see, being a favorite will not always make us
happy, Ellen. It is indeed very delightful to be loved and
caressed, and if we try to do our duty and love as much as we
can, even if we ai'e not sure of being loved at first, we may be
quite certain that we shall be loved and happy at last Do
you understand me, my cMld ? "
The question was ahnost needless, for Ellen's large eyes had
never moved from his face, and theii" expression was so full of
intelligence and meaning, that the whole countenance seemea
lighted up. " Then do you think mamma will recover ? " she
eagerly exclaimed ; " will she ever bve me ? oh, if I thought
so, I could never, never be naaghty again ! "
" She will love you, my dear EUen," replied Mr. Myrvin,
now visibly affected, " I cannot, I dare not tell you that she
will recover to love you on eartii, but if indeed it be God's will
that she should go to Him, she will look down on. you from
Heaven and love you far more than she has done yet, for she
will know then how much you love her."
"And will she know if I do all she wishes if I love and
help Edwaid ? " asked Ellen, in a low, haJf-fi-ightened voice;
Bud little did Mr. Myrvin imagine how vividly and how indeli-
bly his reply was registered in the child's memory.
" It is a question none can answer positively, Ellen, but it is
my own firm belief, tiiat tlie Leloved ones we liave lost !ii*
permitted to watch over and Ioyo us still, and tliat they see us,
and are often near us, though we cannot see thein. But eren
to help Edwaid," he continued somewhat ansjoualy, " you must
not be tempted "
Ha was interrupted by the appearance of a stranger, whOy
addressing him courteotisly, apologized for his intrusion, and
noticing the children, inquired if both were his.
Mr. Myrvin- replied that be could only lay claim to one ; the
little girl was Miss Fortescue.
"And my name is Hamilton, so I think I haye an uncle's
privilege was the reply ; and Ellen, to her astonishment, re-
ceived au affectionate embrace from the unknown i-elative,
whom her mothei-'s iil-judged words had taught her actually to
dread. Mr. Myrvin gladly welcomed him, and, in the interest
of the conversation which followed, forgotthe lesson he had
been so anxious to impress upon Ellen. Arthur accompanied
her to the garden gate, and the gentlemen soon afterwai-d en-
tered the cottage together.
Days merged hito weeks, and still Mrs. Forteseue lingered ;
but her weakness increasing so painfully from alternate fever
and exhaustion that to remove her was impossible. It was tlie
first time that Mrs. Hamilton had ever been separated from
her cliildren, and there were many disagreeables attendant on
nursing a beloved invahd in that confined cottage ; and with
only those little luxuries and comforts that could be procured
(and even these were obtained with difficully, for the nearest
town was twenty miles distant,) but not a selfish or repining
thought entered Mrs. Hamilton's mind. It was filled with
thankfulness, not only that she was permitted thus to tend a
sister, whom neither error, nor absence, nor silence could es-
ti'ange from her heart, but that she was spared long enough for
her gentle influence and enduring love to have some effect in
changing her train of thought, coming that fearful irritability,
and by slow degrees permitting her to look with resignation
and penitent hope to that hour which no human effort could
avert. That Mi'. Myrvin should seek Mrs, Hamilton's society
and delight in conversing with her, Mrs, Forteseue considered
BO perfectly natural, that the conversations which took place in
her sick room, whenever she was strong enough to bear theni;
excited neither surprise nor impatience. Different as she was,
wiffully as she had always neglected the mild counsels and ex-
ample of her sistr, the years of separation and bat tro often
excited self-reproach had fully awakened her to Mrs Haiait
ton's superiority. She had never found any onp. at all like
lier so good and holy, yet so utteriy unassuming and the
strong affection, even the deep emotion in one usually so con-
trolled, with which her sister had met her, naturally increased
these feelings.
"Ah, you and Eicmeline will find much to converse about,"
had been her address to Mr. Myrvin, on his first introduction to
Mrs. Hamilton, "Talk as much as you please, and do not
mind me. "With Emmeline near me, I can restrain irritabihty
whicli must have frightened you away. I know she is right.
Oh, would to God I had always been hke herl" and the suffer,
ing betrayed in the last words was a painful contrast with the
lightness of her previous tone.
Mr. Myrvin answered sootliingly, and for the first time hia
words were patiently received. From listening listlessly, Mrs.
Forfescue, by slow degrees, became interested ia the conversa-
tions between liim and MJr, and Mrs. Hamilton, and so a change
in sentiments was gradually wrought, which by any other and
harsher metliod of proceeding would Lave been sought for in vain.
One evening as Mrs. Hamilton sat watching the faded coun-
tenance of her patient, tmd recalling those days of youth and
buoyancy, when it seemed as if neitiier death nor care could
ever have assailed one so bright and lovely, Edward, before he
sought his favorite stream, threw his arms round her neck, and
pressed his rosy lips on her cheek, as thus to wish her good-by.
" He will repay you for al! your care, dearest Emmeline," Ins
mother said, with a heavy sigh, as he left the room; "I know
he has what you and your' husband will think faults, but, oh,
for my sake, do not treat him harshly; his noble spirit will be
broken if you do 1 "
'* Dearest Eleanor, dismiss all such fears. Am 1 not a mo-
ther eqiially with yourself ? " and do you thinic when your child-
i-en become mine I shall show any difference between them and
my own? You would trust me even in former years, surely
you will trust me now ? "
" Indeed, indeed, I do ; you were always kind and forbearing
wifli me, when I little deserved it. But my poor Edward, it is
BO hard to part with him, and he loves me so fondly 1 " and a
few natural fears stole down her cheek.
"And he shall continue to love you dearest Eleanor; and oh,
believe me, all that you have been to him I will be. I hnve
won the devoted affection of all my own dailings, faid I tlo nol
fear to giun the love of yours ; and then it will be ;m easy task
to make the.ra happy as my own."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
U HOME mFLUEKCE.
"Edward's love you will very quickly obtain, if it be not
yours already! l*ut Ellen you will liave more trouble with. Slie
IS a strange, cold, unlovable cbild."
"Are tte dispositions of youp children so uniilie? I should
not have fancied EUen cold ; she is timid, hut that I thought
would wear off when she knew me better."
"It is not timidity; I never knew her otherwise than cold
and reserved from her birth, I never could feel the same
toward her as I did toward Edward, and therefore tiere must
be something in Ellen to prevent it."
Mrs. Hamilton did not think so, hut she answered gently,
"Are you quite sure, my dear Eleanor, tliat you have equally
studied the characters of both your children? because you know
there are some cases which require more study and carefulness
than others."
"I never was fond of studying any tiing, Emmeline, as you
may remember," replied Mrs. Forteseue, painfully trying to smile,
"and tlierefore I dare say I have not studied my children as
you have youre. Besides, you know I always thought, and still
think, tie doctrine of mothers forming the characters of their
children, and all that good people say about the importance of
early impressions, perfectly ridiculous. The disposition for
good or bad, loving or unloving, is theirs fiwrn the moment of
theh' birth, and what human efforts can alter that? Wliy, the
veiy infency of my children was different ; Edward was always
laughing, and animated, and happy ; EUen fretful and peevish,
and so heavy that she never seemed even to know when I en-
tered the room, while Edward would spring into my arms, and
shout and laugh only to see me. Now what conduct on my
part could have done this? Surely I was justified in feeling
differently toward sucli opposite dispositions; and I know I
cever made more diEference between them than than papa
did between us, Emmehne, and I have had greater reason to be
partial ; you were always better than I was."
She ceased, from exhaustion, but the flush which had risen
to her temples, and the trembling hands, evinced the agitation
always called forth by the mention of her father, which Mrs.
Hamilton, with earnest tenderness, endeavored to soothe.
" I must speali;, Emmeline," she continued, natural impetuos-
ity for the moment regaining ascendency ; " how did I repay
my fond father's partiality ? his too great indulgence ? Did I
not biiug down his gray hairs with sorrow to the grave ? Tiii
I not throw shame and misery upon him by my conduct tvi the
ill-fated one he had chosen for my husband ? Did I not ? oh
my God, my God ! Deatli may indeed be merci&l ! my
Edward might do the same by me ! " and, shuddering violently,
she Idd her face on her sister's bosom.
It was long before Sirs. Hamilton could calm that fearful
agitation, long before her whispered words of heavenly hope,
and peace, and pardon if indeed she believed could bring
comfort ; but they did at lengtli, and such fearful paroxysms
returned at longer and longer intervals, and at length ceased,
in the deep submission and dinging trust to which she was at
last permitted to attain. Though Mrs. Hamilton was detaiaed
BIX weeks at Llangwilian, her devoted attendance on her sister
prevented any thing more than occasional observation of the
children so soon about to be committed to her care. That
Edward was most engaging, and riveted her affection at once,
and that Ellen was unlike aay child she had ever known or
seen, she could not but feel, but she was not one to decide on a
mere feeling. Her present mournful task prevented aU actual
interference with them, except the endeavor by kindly notice to
win titeir confidence and love. His mother's illness and his
uncle's, presence, besides, for the present, his perfect freedom
with regard to employment, had deprived Edward of all
inclination to rebel or exert his self-will, and Mr, and Mrs.
Hamilton both felt that he certtunly had fewer faults, than was
generally the consequence of unlimited indulgence. Wliether
Ellen's extreme attention to her mother, her silent hut ever
ready help when her aunt required it, proceeded from mere
cold duty, or really had its origin in affection, Mrs. Hamilton
could not satisfactorily decide. Her sister had avowed par-
tiality, but that neglect and unkindness could have been shown
to such an extent by a mother as to create the cold exterior
she beheld, was so utterly incomprehensible, so opposed to
every dictate of mafemai love, which she knew so well, that
she actually coidd not even imagine it. She could believe in
the possibility of a preference for one child more than another,
but^Bot in utter neglect and actual dislike. She could imagine
tliat Ellen's love for her mother might be less warm than Ed-
ward's, behoving, as she did, that a parent must call for a
child's affection, not be satisfied with leaving all to Nature ;
but if it were not bve that dictated Ellen's conduct, it was
strange and almost unnatural, and so unpleasing, that so young
a child should have such an idea of duty. But these were only
passing thoughts ; cost what trouble it might, Mrs. Hamilton
determined she would undei-stand her niece as she did her own
children.
But though to her Ellen was a riddle, to her sistei Nature
was resuming her sway, too late, alas ! for all save the mother's
own reproaches. Her weakness had become such that days
would pass when, speech, save a few whispered words, was
impossible ; bt she would gaze upon her child, aa hour after
hour she would sit by the bed, resisting all Edward's entreaties,
and sometimes even fior aunt's to go and play, and long to fold
Ler to her Iieait, and confess she Lad been cruelly unjust, and
that she'did love her now almost as much as Edward, but she
was much too weak to do more than feel. And Ellen remained
inconscioiis of the change, except that now and then, as she
would bring her nourishment or bend over to bathe her fore-
head, her mother would, as if involuntarily, kiss her cheek and
murmur some caressing word. And Ellen longed to cling to
her neck and say how much she loved her, but she did not dare,
and she would hurry out of the room to conceal her teat's,
instead of returning the caress, thus unhappily confii'ming the
idea of natural coldness.
Even the comfort of sitting by her mother was at length, de-
nied her. Mrs. Forteacue became so alarmingly and painfully
ill, that Mra. Hamilton felt it an unnecessary trial for her child-
ren to witness it, especially as they could be no comfort to
her, for she did not know them. The evening of the fourth day
she recovered sufficiently to partake of the sacrament with her
sister and Mr, Hamilton, and then entreat that her children
might be brought to heri She felt herself, what the physician
had imparted to her sister, that the recovery of her senses
would in afi bunian probability be followed ia a few hours by
death, and her last thoughts were on them.
Edward, full of glee at ' being permitted to see her again,
bounded joyfully into the room, but the fearful change in tliat
beloved face bo startled and terriEed him, fliat he uttered a lk still less of her. Her aunt would soon be siitrounded hy
her own children, and then how could she expect to win her
love? And Ellen looked intently and silently out from the
cai-riage-window her uncle believed on the many-ilowered
hedge and otlier objects of interest by which they passed
his wife imagined to hide a tear that trembled in her eyes, but
which she had determined should not faU.
CHAPTER III.
TIIF, HAUGHTY
In order clearly to understand the allusions of the previous
chapters, and the circumstances which had formed the different
characters of Mrs. Hamilton and Mrs. Fortescue; it will be
necessary to take a retrospective glance on their early lives.
Should it be uninteresting to the more youthful of our readers,
we win beg them to proceed at once to ''Traits of Character,"
but to their elder relatives we hope tlie matter will prove of
sufficient interest to obtain perusal.
Emraeline and Eleanor Manvers were the daughters of
Lord Delmont, a nobleman whose title and rank were rather
burdensome than otherwise, from the want of sufficient means
to keep them up as inclination and position warranted. Lady
Delmont, whose energetic, yet gentle character would have
greatly aniehorated the petty vexations of her husband, died
when Enunehne was only seven, Eleanor five, and Charles, her
Dnly boy, an infant of but three years old. A widow lady,
Mrs, Harcourt by name, had been selected by Lady Delmont,
in her last illness, as instructress and guardian of her daughters.
Her wishes, alway's laws to her doaling huiband, were
promptly fulfilled, and Mrs. Harcourt, two months after her
friend's death, assumed the arduoca and responaihle duties for
which her high character well fitted her.
With fimmelme, though there wei-e naturally sorae faults (o
correct, an indolence and weakness to overcome, and appa^
rently no remarliable natural aptitude for acquirement, her task
was compamtively easy, for her pupil had the capabilities, not
only of affection but of reverence, to a very great extent, and
once loving and respecting Mrs. Harcourt, not a command was
neglected, nor a wish unfulfilled. Eleanor, on the contrary,
though so gifted that teaching might have been a complete
labor of love hy self-will, violent passions, and a most deter-
mined want of veneration, eveu of common respect, a resolute
opposition from her earliest years to the wishes of Mrs. Har-
coui-t, because she was merely a governess, so much her infe-
rior in rank, rendered the ta^ of education one of the moat
difficult and painful that can be conceived increased from the
injudicious partiality of Lord Delmont^ It was not indeed tlio
culpable neghgence and dislike which Eleanor aiterward dis-.
^ayed toward her own, but ori^ating in the fancy that Mrs.
Itocourt was unjust, and Emmeline was her favorite. Lord
Dehnont was one of those unfortunately weak, irresolute cha-
racters that only behold the smface of things, and are therefore
utterly incapable of actmg either with vigor or judgment
When he did venture into the precincts of his daughfers' apart-
ments, he generally found Eleanor in sobs and tears, and Em-
meline quietly pursuing her dwly duties. That Mrs. Harcourt
often entreated his influence with her younger pupil to chtmge
her "course of conduct, he never remembered longer than the
time of her expostulations lasted. Once or twice, indeed, he
did begin to speak seriously, but Eleanor would throw her arms
round hia neck and kiss him, call him every endearing name,
and beg him not to look so much like grave, cross Mrs. Har-
court, or she should think she had indeed no one to love her }
and her beautiful eyea would swell with fears, and her voice
quiver, so lliather gratified father would forget all his reproof^
and give her some indulgence to make up for iho uijustice and
harshness she. encountered in the scliool-room. Her power
once thus experienced, of course, was never resigned. Her
father's appearance in their study waa always the signal for
her tears, which she knew would confirm nil his ideas of Mrs.
Karcourt's unjust partiality.
And this idea waa strengthened as they gren' older, and
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
i^^ HOME INFLUENUB.
masters for various accomplishments somewliat lightened Mrs.
Harcouvt's actual labors. Emmeline's steady application and
moderate abilities were lost sight of in the applause always
elicited by her younger sister, whose natui'al giits alike in
music, languages, and drawing had full play, directly she was
released, even in part, from the hated thraldom of her go-
verness. IjOrd Delmont had been accustomed to- hear Elea^
hop's beauty extolled, and now the extraordinary versatility and
brilliancy of her talents became the theme of every tongue.
Professors are naturally proud of a pnpii who does them more
than justice, and Miss Eleanor Maavers was in consequence
held up in very many families, whom Lord Delmont only
casually knew, and spoken of hy very many again to him,
knowing his weak point, and thus seeking to curry favor. Mrs.
Harcourt was the only one from whom he never heard Elea-
nor's praises, and the only one who spoke in praise of Emme-
line. It must then be wilful blindness on her part; and the
father felt indignant, but in spite of himself had too much real
respect for her, individually, to do more than redowhle hia in-
dulgence to Eleanor. Emmeline could not complain of her
father's neglect, for he was both kind and affectionate to her;
but ehe ,did sometimes wish she could be quite sure tliat he
loved her as much as her sister; and her deep affection, unsus-
pected by her father, rejected and laughed at by Eleanor,
twined themselves closer and closer round Mrs. Harcourt and
her brother Charles, on whom she actually doted, and who
returned her affection with one quite as fond and warm as a
happy, laughter-loving, iraak-heailed boy had it in his power
to bestow ; yet even his hohdays were times of as much suffer-
ing as joy to his sister, from the violent quarrels which were
(wntinually taking place between him and Eleanor. Emme-
line, happy in hereelf and Mrs. Harcourt's companionship,
could endure Eleanor's determined supremacy, and, except
tvhere her conscience disapproved, yielded to her. But this
could not be expected from Charles, who, despite his elder sis-
ter's gentle entreaties, would stand up for what he called her
rights, and declai-e that, when he was at home, Miss Eleanor
fiUould not lord it over the whole family. Eleanor would, of
course, first quarrel with him and then appeal to her father,
who without hearing the case would give her right, and harshly
condemn Charles, whose high spirit revolted; and unable to
bear with his father's weakness of character, as he ought to
have 3one, would answer disj'cspectfully ; and words succeeded
wolds till Charles ia a desperate passion would seek Emmoline's
otaiuber, and his father, tliough he actually deeply loveil
and was very proud of Lis son, wished that the holidays were
over, and Charles safe ^ain at school.
Tiifling as domestic disputes may seem in description, they
never fail in their painful reality to banish al! lasting happiness.
Emmeline could bear that her father should preffer Eleanor to
herself, but that he should be unjust to her darling Charles, and
that Charles should increase this evil by dispute tmd self-will,
tried her severely, and obliged her often and oflen to fly (o the
solitude of her own chamber, lest her temper also should fail,
and, to defend her brother, she should forget her duty to hei'
ffliJier. But with her, Mrs. Harcourt's lessons had indeed been
blessed. The spirit of true, heartfelt piety, which she had
sought to instil into bei- youthful charge, even more by the
exMnple of her daily life than by precepts, had become Einoie-
line's, young as she still was, and enabled her not only to bear
up against 5ie constant petiy annoyances of her home, but the
heavy trial susteined in the death of Mrs. Harcourt, just as she
was looking forward to her entrance into the gay world, under
her maternal guardianship, aud her parting with her brother,
who, not two months afterward, left her to fullil his darling
wish of going to sea.
At eighteen, then, Emmeline Manvers became the mistress
of her father's establishment, and had to encounter alone, not
only the suffering of bereavement in which, though Lord Del-
mont sincerely respected Mrs, Harcourt, he could not sympa-
thize, and at which, after the first shock and momentary remorse
for her own conduct to so true a friend, Eleanor, if she did not
actually rejoice, felt so very greatly relieved as to be irritated
aud angry at Emmehne's quiet sorrow but the separation from
her brother and all the cares and disagreeables of such stiicl
economy at home, as would permit the sustaining a proper posi-
tion in society, so that the necessity of economy should not even
he. suspected. It was this regard of appearances which so
diaied aud pained Emmehne's upright and independent spirit.
Not that Lord Delmont, even for appearances, would go beyond
his incoufe; but still there were obliged concealments and other
petty things which his daughter could not bear. Mrs. Har-
court's trial a widow, compelled not only to teach for a sub-
Bistence, but to part with her only child, who had been adopted
by a married sister, living in Italy appeared to Emmeline'fi
ideas of truth and honor preferable to appearing richer than
they really were. But on this subject, even less than on any
utnei, nhe knew there was no chance of sympathy, and so sho
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
24 HOME ISI'LUEKCE.
iJevoted all the energies of lier matured and well-regulated nunQ
to correcting the evil as nmch as it layiji lier individua] power;
and in the year ivliich Iier earnest entreaties prevailed on her
father to permit her remaining in quiet retirement, hefore she
entered the world, Lord Delmont was astonished at the greater
comfort and increase of dignity which pervaded his esiablish-
ment. He never had chosen. Mrs. Harconrt to interfere with
bis household concerns, believing that he conducted them him-
self wten in reality he was completely governed by his house-
Iteeper and steward. Mrs. Harcowt'a penetration had seen
and regretted this, and had endeavored so to guide and instruct
Emraeline, that when she became old enough to claim her right
as mistress, the evil should be remedied. Could she have look-
ed down on the child of her love, she wonid indeed have rejoiced
at the beautiful fruition of her labors. Lord Delmont was not
astonished and delighted only, a feeling of respect toward his
gentle, his ti'uthful child entered his heart, such as he Lad ex-
perienced toward npne, save her mother. Emmehne would in-
deed have thought all her toils repaid, could she have known
this, but the very feeling prevented the display of that caressing
affection he sHlI lavished on Eleanor, and the tears of his eider
girl often fell thick and fast -from the painful longing for one
similar caress, one evidence on his part, that, though neither so
beautiful, nor talented, nor engaging as Eleanor, she could yet
minister to his comfort and increase his happiness.
But Emmeline's strong feeling of religion, while it enabled
her to bear up agwnst care and the constant and most panful
feeling of loneliness, rendered the trial of beholding her sister's
wilful course of error, if possible, still more' severe. She knew
that all her affectionate counsels were worse than useless, that
though Eleanor could be even caressingly affectionate when it
served her purpose, would even listen to her at the moment of
suffering from some too hasty impulse, she had no lasting influ.
ence. And this became more and more evident as Eleanoi
became the almost constant companion of the Marchioness
LasceUes, their only female relative. It was the evil influence
of this lady which had so increased Eleanor's natural repugnance
to Mrs. Harcourt's gentle sway, that for full two years hefore
Uie laser's death the flattery of Lady Lascelles and Eleanor's
passionate enta'eatira had prevailed on Lord Delmont to permit
his daughter being more with her than with her sister and
governess. Lady Lascelles was a woman of the world, utterly
heartless, highly distinguished, and supremely fashionable. A)
her ho'ise all thi, ton of the beau-raoude congregated, ant
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME ISFLUESCE. 23
scandal, filvolity, aiid esprit were the prevailing tcpios, diversi-
fied with superficial opinions of the literature, arts, and pohtics
of the day, and Tarious sentimental episodes, which the lady of
the house endured for tlie sake' of variety. Here Eleanor, even
at fourteen, was made a popular idol; her extreme beauty, her
vivacity, her talents, her sharpness of repartee, all were admired,
extolled, and encouraged. At seventeen she was . introdueed
and initiated into all ^e mystflries of an ultra-fashionable life,
and very speedily added to her other accomplishments all tie
arts of a finished and heartless coquette.
With Lady Lascelles for her chaperon, it was not very sur-
prising that Emmeline Manvers shrunk in pain and dread from
her introduction into society ; hut yet she knew her social duties
too well to refuse, and, by an affectation of superior sanctity,
which of course would have been the charge levelled against
her, throw a sneer upon those holy feelings and spiritual .prin-
ciples which had become part of her very being. She entered
into society, but the isolation to a heart lie hers of the eoteriea
of Lady Lascelles and her friends, was indeed most painful, and
^gravated by the constant dread which the contemplation of
Eleanor's reckless career could not but occasion.
But Emmeline's tiial of loneliness was happily not of very
long duration. At a ball, which was less exclusive than the
aissemblages of Lady Lascelles, the attention of both sisters
was attracted to a young man, by name Arthur Hamilton
Eleanor, from his distinguished appearance and extreme reserve,
Emmeline, by the story attached to his name. His father had
so distinguished himself in the amelioration of the peasantry
and working classes in various parts of England, in addition to
various services of a private and confidential natnie Irom the
home government to die courts abroad, that a viscountcy was
offered to his acceptance. The message from royalty reached
him on his death-bed, and though, from the faint and flickering
accents with which he replied to the intended honor, it seemed
as if he declined it, it was attributed to the natural feelings of a
dying man, seeing the utter nothingness of earthly honors, and
the title was generously proposed to his son. But Arthur Ha-
milton had not been the pupil and friend of his father in vain.
With a calm dignity and uncompromising independence, he
declared that he had neither claim nor heirship to the reward
of his father's services ; that he believed his parent would him-
self have refused it^ preferring tlic honorable distinction of being
an untitled Enghsh gentleman, to the unvalued honor of a
newly-created lordsh'p. He respectfully thanlced the government
for the honor they intended, but decisively refused it -
that liis dearest inheritance was his father's name.
Of course this moat extraordiuary decision was canvassed
again and again in the fashionable world, meeting tliere with
veiy little appreciation, because it sprang from much liigher
feefings than the world could comprehend. By many he was
imagined very httle removed from insane by others as actuat-
ed by some ulterior motive, which would be sure to display
itself some day by all regai-ded with curiosity fay some few
with earnest, quiet, heartfelt admiration: and of tliis number
was not only Emmeline Mauvers, but her father; who, though
weak and yielding, was not worldly, and could admire honor-
able independence, even wiule some of hia friends succeeded ir
persuading him that in this case it nearly reached romance.
Arthur Hamilton was a star creating a sensation ; it signified
little to Eleanor Manvers why or wherefore, but she fully re-
solved to conquer him and ch^n him, aa she had already done
innumerable others, victim to her charms. His very reserve
deepened her ardent longing, and the difficulty only strength-
ened her resolution, but she tried in vain ; for the first time she
was completely and entirely foiled, and she disliked him accord
ingly a dislike increasing to actual abhorrence when the
truth at length forced itself upon her, that he admired, con-
versed with, evidently sought the society of her sister, whom
she chose to charge with deceit and underhand deaUng, wifh
al! the violence of angry passion and mortified defeat.
Emmeline bore the storm cahnly, for her conscience per-
fectly acquitted her. She was not indeed indifferent to Arthur
Hamilton, hut she had tried hard to prevent the ascendency of
affection, for she liad heard that he still mourned the loss of a
beloved one to whom he had been for many yeaxs engaged.
And deep was her thankful joy, and unexpectod indeed the
intensity of her happiness, when six months after their first
introduction he related to her the heavy trial of his early life,
and concluded by asking her if she could indeed accept a heart
which had so loved another, but which was now entirely her
own, and happier than he had once believed it ever could be.
The very frankness of his avowal increased the feelings of
reverence and regard he had aheady inspired, and to the great
delight, and no Httle pride of Lord Delmont, his elder daughter,
who had been by Lady LasceUcs' coterie so overlooked and
neglected, who had been by many for years considered a mere
foil to the beauty and talent of her younger sister, was united
before she was twenty, to a man who however his high prir-
W]jle^ miglit liave escifed laughter as liigh-JIown. romance, his
anbendmg integrity and dislike of the pleasures and amuae-
ments, but too aften the sole pursuit of tie wealthy, exposed
him to the charge of severity aud eccentricity was yet sought,
and his connection deemed a most desirable partie by all and
eveiy family who had marriageable daughters.
CHAPTEB IV.
Eleanor's unfounded dislike toward Arthur Hamilton did
not decrease when he became her brother-in-law ; she chose to
beheve tliat ho bad injured her by being the only one who had
remained proof against all the fascinations she had thrown in
his way. Even in her childhood, if any one chanced to notico
Emmeline more than herself, it was considered a mortal offence,
and the person who had so offended was scarcely spoken to
again. Therefore that Emmeline should be married before
herself, and to the man she intended to captivate, but not to
love, or wed, was an offence visited upon her sister by the
withdrawal of her speech for six months, and on Mr. Hamilton
by an insulting haughtiness of demeanor toward him, at which
he only smiled ; and, to her extreme annoyance, she found that
even as she had failed to fascinate, she equally failed to offend.
He would speak to her, would treat her with courtesy, and
the quiet familiarity of an older relative and more, actually
remonstrate with her conduct whenever he thought it wroag.
It was the recollection of this time, yet more than actual pre-
sent feeling, which had occasioned the mistaken impressions she
had infused into both her children, of the extreme severity and
harshness of their uncle, thoughtlessly indeed, for the present
was always all to her, and if she did think that they might ona
day be under his charge, she little imagmed the unhappmess
and mischief which their supposition of bis unbending stern-
ness might engender.
To Emmeline, the change in her young life was so mar-
vellous, so complete care, anxiety, lonehnes, that smkragof
the whole frame and heart, from the absence of appreciation
and social kindnes.5, hail so depaitd, leaving in tlieii- stead
sucli an intensity of quiet domestic happiness, that it was long
before her full teart could beEeve it reality, and rest secure.
She had always longed for one to reverence, to ding te, and
her husband gave her room for both. As his betixitlied, even
before their marriage, she had been introduced to very different
society to that of the marchioness ! she beheld him reterenced,
loved, appealed to by the wisest and the best men, often
older than himself. .That this man should so love, cherish, and
actu^y reverence her no wonder that under the magic of
such feelings her character matured, displaying such engaging
and unsuspected qualities, that even her husband often looked
at her with astonishment, playfully asking her if she could bo
the same calm, almost too quiet, and seemingly too cold Emme-
line Manvers whom he had first seen. Her veiy talents, which
had seemed worthless, compared to her sister's, were called
forth by her husband. She found that her voice and her touch
on either piano or harp, could give him exquisite pleasure, and
this once discovered, she made such improvement as almost to
surprise herself. She found the sketches taken from the various
lovely spots in the vicinity of their noble seat, and in which
Devonshire abounds, delighted him, and wheu Eleanor did
visit Oakwood, she was astounded at the various beautiiul
drawings, which evinced the employment of that leisure which
she had declared must fee even te the quiet Emmcline a horrid
To Lord Delmont the change in his daughter was much
more astonishing than te her husband. He was very often at
Oakwood, (paiticularly when a little grandson was added to the
happy party,) for his home under Eleanor's extravagant and
heedless management had lost all the comfort that Emmeline
had bestowed. He had began, too, to discover that his darhng,
his still favorite Eleanor, was not faultless, Emmeline's gene-
rous assistance and determinatiou to spare her father all discom-
fort, had concealed Eleanor's personal extravagance from him ;
but after her marriage, as Eleanor's fashionable amusements in-
creased, so did the quantity and amount of her bills, which, as
the young lady did not seem inclined to settle them, were sent
to her father. Lord Delmont was painfully startled, and with
his usual want of judgment spoke to Eleanor at the very mo-"
ment that he felt most angry ; unaccustomed to reproof from
him, she retorted with equal passion, and a violent altercation
ensued, which ended in Eleanor ordering the carriage, and
driving to Lady LasceUea, declaring she could not think of
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME rarLUENCE. 29
tetumiiig home, till her father had aufficiontly recovered hia
senses for her to do so in safety.
The interference of Emmeline at length succeeded in restor-
ing peace, hut Lord Belmont's eyes had heen rudely opened,
and, as is unhappily too often the case with those wealc cha^
ractera wJiere ovei-indulgence ,of childhood has occasioned
those annoyances of ungovemed youth, he hecame irritahle and
sometimes even harsh with Eleanor, which conduct threw her
etilt more with Lady Lascelles. As to joining society with Mr.
and Mrs, Hamilton, when they were in London, Eleanor would
not hear of it. But to her sister's great joy, and some surprise,
she accepted an invitation to Oakwood a short time after little
Percy's birth ; and, still more surprising, condescended to make
herself agreeable. The London season had tired her, and she
thought she might just as well be dull on the hanks of the Dart
in August, and September, as in some stupid watering-place.
Mr. Hamilton, despite her dislike, which she cared not to avow,
she found could he at least very entei'tsuning ; her father was
more Uke his former self, her sister far more delightful and
lovely than she ever thought she could be, and her nephew cer-
tainly a pretty little plague. Then Mr. Hamilton had a beauti-
ful horse entirely for her use, and she rode exceedingly well,
and was greatly admired. She was seized with an exploring
mania, and dragged Emmeline to every old ruin and dark wood
within ten miles of Oakwood. Altogether the impression she
left behind her, after a two months' visit, was such as to ease
Mrs. Hamilton's great anxiety, more especiaUy as it appeared,
from certain private conversations, that her affections were for
the first time really engaged, and Emmeline liad always fondly
hoped that when tliat should bo the case, Eleanor would he-
eome a very different person. Alas ! penetrative as she was,
she had not yet learned her sister's character ; simply because
utter heartlessness in any woman she could not comprehend.
Her visit to her father in London, in the winter, removed all
their rising hopes, and caused such increased and intense anx-
iety, as so to injure her already delicate health that her hus-
band bore her b,ack to Oakwood a full month before they had
originally intended. Whether or not Eleanor loved Lord Fita-
clair, it was impossible to determine ; but that he devotedly,
passionately loved her, was only too evident, not only to the
world, but to herself; and this once confirmed, she left no me-
thod untried to torment, and so, as she declared, to try if his
affections were worth having. He was half an Italian, and had
inlierited all the strong, fierce passions of that country, without
one atom of self-control. Mr. Hamilton knew liiin well, far bet.
ler than lie knew himself, and conjured him to withdraw from
the society of one who could never make him bappy, and whose
capricious conduct was bo likely to render him desperate and
miserable ; be reasoned, entreated in vain. " She only w&ats
to try the strength of my love," was bis sole reply ; " and were
she to torment health and life away, it will never change she
will be mine yet."
And to the astonishment of Mr, and Mrs. Hamilton, twc
months afterward he proposed in form, and actually was ac-
cepted, with the sole condition tbat tbeir engagement should be
kept secret till it should please Eleanor to name tbo wedding
day, whieb could not be at least for six or eigbt months.
This engagement might have eased ansiety, but the condi-
tion increased it, especially, as instead of coming to Oakwood.
as Emmeline had asked and hoped, the latter part of the sum
mer and autumn was to be spent in Cheltenham witli a very
gay party, in which Eleanor was sfiU of course the star. Mrs.
Hanulton entered the nursery one morning earlier than usual,
for her infiint bad not been well the night before, and she iiad
already experienced the care as well as the joy of a mother.
Her babe was better, and as he lay smilingly and happily in
her lap, and watched the eager movements of his brother, she
was only sensible of pleasure. The nurse bad arranged the
ihairs in a, long line, that Master Percy might, with their help,
walk the whole length of the large and airy room. The feal
mightily pleased the little gentleman, who, having acquired the
venei-able ^e of fifteen months, liked better to feel his feet
than crawl on the floor, or be carried about on any limbs but
his own. Every two or three paces he stood nearly atone, and
burst into a loud merry laugh, which was always echoed by a
crow of joy from his little brother.
" Take care, Percy, love, don't fall and frighten mamma,"
said his young mother, who was watching him with such plea-
sure as to send for his father to sliare it. When her son, to
.prove how well be obeyed her commands to take care, stood
for a second without any support, and then ran quite alone
across the room, and with a yet louder laUgb bid his rosy face
in ber lap. Mrs. Hamilton fondly kissed the littJe nestlirg
cead, and at that moment her husband entered the roon.
* Dearest Arthur," she eagerly exclaimed,. "I was actflal''y
fijolish enough to send for you, Herbert seems quite wtll ; I
was, it seems, needlessly alarmed, and Percy has this mo-
ment " She stopped in sudden terror, for there was an
expression on her hosband's counfenaace of such unusual abla-
tion, that though he tried to smilo when he heard, her words,
she could not conquer her alarm, more than to say, in a carea-
sing voice to her little boy
" Will not Percy rua to papa, and ask him why he lo&ks eo
ead ? "
The child looked up in her face, and then, as his father held
out his arms to him, let go his mother's dress, and obeyed her.
Mr. Hamilton caught him to his heart, held him for above a
minute, kissed him fondly, and left the nursery without utteiv
ing a single word,
" Let me take Master Herbert, ma'am," swd the head nurse
respectfully, for she saw that her mistress's unexpressed alarm
had, nearly ovei'powered herj and in a few minutes Emmcline
was with her husband, whose agitation was so excessive, that
even his wife's presence, for the moment, had scarcely power
to calm him.
The tale was soon told, Eleanor's conduct since her en-
g^ement had been such as to excite the displeasure, not of her
father alone, hut actually of (he marchioness ; who, though a
weak and worldly woman, had yet some idea of propriety. As
a near relation of Lord Delmont^ Eleanor's engagement with
Lord Fitzelaip was of conrse told to her, and again and again
she warned her that she was going too far, and might lose her
lover before she was aware of it; but' Eleanor only laughed at
her, and at last won her over to the belief that it was oertainly
better to cm-e Fitzelair of liis jealous tendency hefore marriage
than afterward. Lord Delmont's reproofs she was wont to
silence, by invariably making them the signal of mortifying and
annoying Lord Fjtzclair stiil more than usual. Yet still at
times she relented, and so strengthened the love she had excit-
ad, so enhanced her own fascinations, that all the agony he had
sndured and was stiD, he knew, to endure, by an incomprehen-
sible contradiction, riveted her power and hastened his own
doom. Weak in all things but his love, he could not demand
as his actual right the publication of their engagement. Elea-
nor vowed if he did till she permitted him, she would have
nothing more to say to Mm. She knew, though she did not
say it, that once made known, a chain would be thrown round
lier actions, which she did not choose to endure. And father,
lover, and friend, all feeling she was wrong, and the first and
last repeatedly telhng her so, had yet neither of them the rfi-
Eslulion to contend with her, and compel the proper ecurse.
A month of their visit to Cheltenham so passed, wl en
Eleanor's attention was arrested by a new actor on the scene. She
had begun to tire of her present satellites, and a young military
capttun, whose farlough from India had just expired, and whose
paie face, somewhat melancholy expression, and yeiy elegant
figure, presented a new object for conquest impossible to be
resisted; and it was unhappily only too easily achieved. She
made no secret of her admiration, speaking of him in such terms
(o her intended husband as to excite anew every jealous feel-
ing. It was easy for Captain Fortescue to discover Fitzcliii
was his rival; hut believing himself d d dly th bj t f
Eleanor's preference, he increased his tt t ns h tl un gin
ing the storm he was exciting, the mor f flfrmtdt
mined suppresaion. Lord Delmont i t rf d It mes
not only by reproaches to Eleanor, but by d t th I cold
to her new suitor. Finding at length th t h ra,, m t
actuahy neared a criminal extent, a d afte a de^pe ately
stormy interview, he solemnly declared that if she did not dis-
miss Captain Fortescue at once, he would shame her in the
face of the whole world, by proclaiming her engagement with
the young marquis. Eleanor in equal anger declared that if
he threatened, so too could she ; and if he tormented her any
more she would prevent all publication of her ^,
herself snapping it asunder, and pledging her faith ti
Fortescue. This was too much even for Lord T
claring if she did so, a father's heaviest malediction should fall
on her head, he hastily lefb her ;
went to prepare for an excursioi
Fitzclair, and others.
When Lord Delmont's passions were once roused, even his
ordinarily slender judgment entirely forsook him, and he did
that which at another time, knowing Fitzclair as he did, he
would have shrunk from. He sought him, while stil! exaspe-
rated, upbraided him for his weakness in permitting Eleanor's
unprincipled conduct, and warned him tha^ if he did not adopt
some strong measures to prevent it, he would certainly lose her
entirely.
The young man heard him without reply ; but his face grew
livid, and he clenched Ms hand till the blood started from the
nails, and in this mood of concentrated passion joined the rid-
ing party. The exercise itself is, to some temperaments, un-
nsually exciting, and the determined coldness of Eleanor to
himself, and the eagerly-received devotion of Fortescue, mad-
dened him. He demanded an interview with her on theii
return home struggled to speak calmly, expostulated, and,
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
nOME MFLUENCE. 33
fiuaUy, ri!proac!iod. Eleanor, already irritated, and, beyond
all, tiat her lover, in general so obsequious and humble, should
dai-e to call her to account for mere amusement, combined with
the jrecollection of Captain Fortescue's flattering vows and
willing homage, excited her to an extent of which she was her-
self unconscious, inasmuch as she flrmly believed, whatever sho
might say then, a few soft words would speedily ohlitt,iato
She told him that really his jealous lempeiament w-ja bejond
all endurance; that he certimly must intend her to despite
and ahhor him ; and that the contrast he presented to Captain
Portescue was such aa to make her most lieiifily wish to put
aa end to their engagement, as she felt quite suie it must onlj
end in misery for both ; and, without waiting for a reply, she
haughtily brushed by him, and disappeared.
Of the extent of Fitaclair's passion Eleanor had not the
least idea, and tJiis is saying a great deal, for she generally
exa^erated her own power. She heUeved she had inflicted
pain, but not as much as he deserved ; and determined that
she would torment him yet more at the ball that evening. But
lo her extreme mortification he did not appear, and there was
a vague dread on her spirifa as she retired for the night, which
prevented any thing like rest. His absence had excited sur-
prise in aO, especially Lady Lascelles, who knew that to leave
Eleanor entirely to tie attentions of young Fortescua was so
unprecedented as f bode no good. Eutthe wildest conjectui'es
were far from reality. The very next morning all Cheltenham
was thrown into the most psunful excitement by the incompre-
hensible and most extraordinary fact of the suicide of Lord
Fitzclair; by what occasioned, plunged into such niystciy that
nothing but sudden aberration of mind was imagined, a behef
justified by the very peculiar temperament and manners of the
young nobleman during his sojourn with them. His will, a
valuable present, with a few lines of regard to his faithful
attendant, and a letter addressed to Arthur Hamilton, Esq.,
were the sole evidences that the awful deed had not been com-
mitted without some preparation ; but as that was often the
case with madness itself, it excited no remark.
The state of Eleanor's mind, when these awful tidings were
communicated to her, which they were by her father, in his agi-
tation and anger, without the least preparation, we leave our
readers io imagine. Hardened, heartless, wilful as she was,
Uie was still a woman, and a very young one, and till Captain
Fortescue appeared, had loved, as far as it was in her nature.
Lord Fitzclau", To believe that she had nothirg to do with
his miserable and was an attempt so vain and hollow, that even
she shrunk from the hopeless slivggte to realize it ; remoi-je, in
all its torturing, unmitigated anguish, took possession of her,
but instead of leading her to penitence, and tlience the 'hope
of peace, it urged her to a ceurae of action from which she
imagined there was no withdrawing ; and which must in time,
by removing her from ail painful associations, lessen her pre-
sent misery.
For three days and nights she never quitted her own apart
ment, and then joined her usual circles without the smallest
evidence of the internal agony which was still hers. It was
very easy to displace paleness by artificial roses, and her gay
smiles and joyous sallies were tampered only by a judiciously-
expressed horror when the late event was discussed before her,
supposed natural to one who had known him so intimately ;
but the houra of loneliness which followed this conduct in
eodety were terrible indeed. By a strange contrariety of feel-
ing, her better nature longed for Erameline, and her artiftcial,
which had, alas 1 only too forcibly become her natural self,
felt as if slio would leave the kingdom rather than encounter
the mild, sorrowful glance of those penetrating eyes.
Lord Delmont was himself in a most pitiable condition ; even
minor evils had always been great to him, and the effect of this,
the wish to take Eleanor away from Captain Fortescue's in-
creased and annoying attentions, and yet the dread that doing
so would connect her with Fitzclair's death, so distracted lum
as to render him really ill information whieh instantly brought
Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton to Cheltenham,
Some young wives and mothers might have felt it hard that
their domeslio enjoyment should so continually have been dis-
turbed and annoyed from the faults of others ; but Emmelino
had been accustomed to trace every thing that created personal
Buffering to the highest source, and feel that it wa^ good foi'
her, or it would not be ; a conviction that enabled her to bear
with and still to love the erring one that was the visible cause
of pain.
Eleanor was at a gay ball the night of her arrival, and Mra
Hamilton requested she might not be infonned of it till the fol-
lowing day. About half an hour before her usual hour of rising
after such scenes, she entered her sister's room. All around
her lay the "ornaments of the previous evening, looldng so
Ktrange, gaudy, and faded in the darkened room, and judged
by the calmer feelings of the morning. A sensation of intense
depression crept over Erameline as she gazed, increasing as
she looked on the face of the sleeper, ^hich, divested of ita
unnatui-al bloom, looked so fearfully wan and haggard. Her
beautiful hiur lay in tangled masses on her damp brow, and aa
Enmieliae gently tried to remove it, Eleanor started and awoke.
" Is it already time to get up ? " she said languidly, and only
half unclosing her eyes j " I feel as if I had not slept at all.
Am I dreaming ? " she added, starting up, " or have I slept in
one plaee, and a,woke in another ? Am I at Oakwood ? "
" No, dearest Eleanor ; \rill you not welcome me to Malvern
House ? "
The voice, the look, seemed to thrill through her ; her tem-
ples were throbbing, her heart weighed down, as it always was
when she first awoke, with an undefinahle sense of guilt and
pain ; she tried to be cold, proud, reserved, but it would not
do, and she suddenly flung her arms round her sister's neck,
and burst info agonized tears.
It was a most unexpected greeting, and Mrs. Hamilton ar-
gued hopefully from it, Alas ! the unwonted softening only
lasted one brief half hour. She left her at Eleanor's entreaty
while dressing, and when she returned, though the reckless
girl told her with a half smile that she was ready for her lec-
ture, for she could only have come from Oakwood to give her
one ; and that however severe her words might be, she could
not alter her tone, that must be kind, in. spite of herself. Yet
Emmelino could not succeed in convincing her how wrongly,
how cruelly she had acted. Eleanor would persist that she
was not in the least to blame, and that poor Pitzclair's fearful
end was only owing to his own violent passions ; in fact, "that
ho must have been out of his mind, and that, though it was
certainly very dreadful, she had perhaps escaped a very terri-
ble doom i but speak as she might, Emmeline.was not deceived
OS to the agony she was actually enduring. Finding, however,
Ihat all her gentle efforts were useless, that even the perusal of
FitzclMr's brief lines to her husband which Eleanor insisted
on seeing, and in which he deplored his madness in not having
followed his advice, and flown from her presence, and bade
him take his forgiveness to her, and say, that the means he had
adopted would, he trusted, dissolve their engagement to her
satisfaction had no efiect, save in causing her to turn so
deadly pale, that her sister was convinced nothing but an al-
most supernatural effort of pride preserved her from faiuling.
She desisted; hopmg against hope that Eleanor would yet
repent and become a different being. She knew harshness
Would only harden, and so she tried to prevail on her father to
treat her as usual, but this Lord Delmont could not do. It Ja
Btraage how often we find those parents who have beer, over-
indulgent to childhood, unusually harsh to the faults of youth.
Weak characters, also, when driven to anger, are always more
violent than firmer ones ; and, certainly, Eleanor's continued
haughtiness and coldness, aa if' she were the injured one, did
not tend to cahn him.
, And his angry feelings were unfortunately but too soon ag-
gravated by a pi-oposal in form fi-om Captain Fortescue for tha
hand of Eleanor. Without a laoment's delay he despatched a
decided and almost insulting refusal to the young soldier, and
then sought his daughter, and vented on her the anger and vex-
ation which overpowered him, upbraiding her not only with
the death of Fitzclair, but for having dared so to encourage
young Fortescue as to give him courage for his audacious pro-
posal. To his astonishment, he was heard without any attempt
at reply; but he would have been startled, couid he have seen
the pallid cheek, compressed hp, and clenched hand with which,
when he had left her, Eleamor muttered
" Father, if it be sin to leave you, be it on your own head. I
would have wedded with your consent, bad you pennitted it;
but now my destiny is fixed. There is no peace in England;
at least let me be spared the agony of breaking another loving
Nearly three weeks rolled on, and Eleanor's extraordinary
submission, and even in some degree withdrawal from society,
(fpr which Mrs, Hamilton's arrival was a good excuse,) caused
her father's iiTitation against her almost entirely to subside.
That she passed several hours each day apart fivam lier sister,
excited no surprise. Emmeline was thankful even for her
change of deportment, but nothing confidential ever again passed
between them. That reports were floating about, connecting
the names of Miss Manvers and the late Lord Fitzclair, seemed
little heeded by Eleanor, though they caused natursd vexation
lo her family. About this time an invitation arrived for Elea-
nor from a lady of rank, slightly known to her father, and hving
ten miles fronx Cheltenham, in a beautiful vUla, at which she
expected a select party of fashionables to ruralize for a week or
two. Tliere was nothing in the note to excite the dread that
weighed on Mrs. Hamilton's spirits, as Eleanor carelessly threw
it to her for her perusal, but she would not express it, as Lord
Delmont seemed inclined that Eleanor should accept it^ know-
ing that the lady was ruueh too exclusive for Captain Fortescue
W join her guests, and behevJng that Eleanor's apparent indifference
to tlie visit oiiginated from tbat cause. Telling ker he
waa so gratified by her having devoted so many evenL'igs to
her sister, he added, ste had his full consent to go if she Kted,
as he could better spare ter than when Emmeline returned to
Oakwood. Slie quietly thanked him, but evinced no particular
pleasure.
The day before her intended departure, the sisters were sit-
ijng together, and httle Percy, who now ran firmly without any
falls, waa playing about the room. He had already displayed
a high spirit and passionate temper, with their general accom
paniment, self-will, even in trifles, that Mrs. Hamilton felt
would render her task a trying one ; but she was as firm as
she was geatle, and faced the pain of contradicting her darling
bravely ;
"Do not touch that, P.ercy, love," she said, as her little boy
stretched out his hand toward a beautiful but fragile toy, that
stood with other knickknacks on a low table. The child looked
laughingly Eind archly toward her, and withdrew Ms hand, but
did not move from the table.
" Come here, Percy, you have not played with these pretty
things for a long time;" and she took from her work-bos some
gayly colored ivory balls, which had been his favorite playthings,
but just at present they had lost their diai-m, and the young
gentleman did not move.
Mi-s. Hamilton knelt down by him, and said quietly:
"My Percy will not disobey mamma, will he?"
"Me want that;" he replied, in the pretty coaxing tone of
infancy; and he twined his little round arms caressingly lound
her neck.
Mrs. Hamilton felt very much tempted to indulge him, but
she resisted it.
" But that is not a fit plaything for you, love ; besides, it is
not mine, and we must not touch what is not ours. Come and
SCO if we cannot find something just as pretty, that you may
And afier some minutes' merry play in her lap his mother
hoped he had forgotten it ; but the little gentleman waa not,
he thought, to be so governed. The forbidden plaything was
quietly grasped, and he seated himself on the ground, in silent
but triimiphant glee.
Surprised at his sudden silence, Mrs. Hamilton looked towai'd
him. It was his first act of decided disobedience,, and she-
knew she must not waver. Young as he was, he had already
learned to know when she was displeased, and when she de-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
3a HOME INFLUEKCE.
sired hira very gi-avely to give her the toy, he passionately
threw it down, and burst into a violent fit of crying. His nurse
took hira Btruggling from the room, and Mrs. Hamilton quietly
resumed her work ; but there was such an expression of pain
iu her countenance, that Eleanor exclaimed,
" Emmeline ! I have been watching you for the last half
hour, and I cannot comprehend you. Do explain yourself,"
" I will if I can ; " and Mrs. Hamilton looked up, and smiled.
" Why would yoa not let that poor httle Percy have that
" Because it would have been encouraging his touching or
tailing every thing he sees, whether proper for hiin or not."
" But he could not understand that."
"Not now, perhaps ; but I wish him to know that when I
speak, he must obey me. It ia, I think, a mistaken doctrine,
that we ought to give children a reason for all wo desire them
to do. Obedience can then never be prompt, as it ought to be.
And, in fact, if we wait until they are old enough to under-
stand the reasons for a command, the task will be much more
difScult, from the ascendency which wilfulness may already
have obtained."
" But then why were you so cruel as to send the poor cliild
np-stairs ? Was it not enough to take the toy from him ? "
" Not quite ; for him to remember that he must not taucb it
"And do you really tJiitik he will not ? "
" I can only hope so, Eleanor ; but I must not be disheart-
ened if he do. He is an infant still, and I cannot expect him
io leam such a difficult lesson as obedience in one, two, or sis
lessons."
"And will he love you as much as if you had given it tc
"Not at the moment, perhaps, but when he is older he will
love me more. And it ia that hope which reconciles me to the
pain which refusing to indulge him costs rae now."
"And voluntaiily you will bear the pain which had almost
brought teaia into the eyes of the severe and stoical BIra. Ham-
ilton ! " exclaimed Eleanor.
" It was a foohsh weakness, my dear Eleanor, for which my
husband would have chidden me ; hut there must be pain to a
m.other if called upon to exert authority, when inclination so
strongly points to indulgence,"
" Well, if ever I have any thing to do with children, I er-
tainly shall not be half as particular is you are, Emnieline. ]
fealiy cannot imagine what hniia gratifying myself and Percy
could possibly have done."
" If ever you have children, my dear Eleanor, may you have
Btrength of mind and self-control sufficient to forget self, and
refuse the gratification of the present moment for the welfai-e
of future years ! "
Mrs. Hamilton spoke impressively, and something, either in
Uer words or tone, caused the blood to rush into Eleanor's
cheeks, and she hastily walked to the window ; then, as abruptly
returning, she kissed her sister, a very rare token of affection,
and declaring she was much too good for her to understand,
quitted the room.
The following day, dressed for her visit, and only w^ting for
the carriage, Eleanor, accompanied by Mrs. Hamilton and her
little boys, entered the same apartment. Though not in general
fond of nui-aing, Eleanor had takea Herbert in her arms, and
was playing with him with unusual fondness ; Percy, who had
not seen the tempting plaything since his banishment the pre-
ceding day, the moment his eye caught it, to the astonishment
of Eleanor, ran up to his mother, and Ksping, " Me no touch
that Percy good boy now," held up Ms little face lovingly to
hers, and with a very pardonable feeling of delight, Mrs. Ham-
ilton lifted bim up and covered bim with kisses. The feelings
which tkrilled through Eleanor at that moment she might in-
deed have found it diffi.cult to explain, but she was so conscious
of a change of countenance as to hide her faoe on Herbert's
head. It might have been obedience and disobedience brought
so suddenly and strangely in contrast and who were the
actors ? an infant and herself. For a minute she recovered,
stricken with sudden and agonized remorse ; but it was too
late, she had gone too far, and the announcement of the car-
riage was a, reEef from that bitter moment of painful indecision.
Placing her baby nephew in his nurse's arms, she sidd, caress-
ingly, " "Will not Percy give Lina some of those kisses as well
as mamma ? " The child threw one little arm round her neck,
and the other round that of his mother, and then burst into a
merry laugh at thus seeing himself as it were a link between
them. Never had it seemed to Eleanor that she had loved and
admired her sister as she did at that moment ; all the neglect,
nnkindness, she had shown her, all the sarcasm and satire, of
which, either before or behind her, she had so often made her
the victim, combined with an intense, but how painfully vain
longing to have resembled her in the remotest degree, rather
Ihan be the character which had never bef
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
40 HOME INFLUENC!!.
graded, so hateful almost oyerpowered Iier a convulsive
Bob escaped her as she clasped Emmelmo in a dose embrace,
and almost choked her hurried good-by ! Lord Delmont an(l
Mr. Hamilton were in the hall, and the former was surprised
and delighted at the warmth with which hia uanally reckless
child returned bis kisa and farewell ; the carriage drove off
leaving unusual hope and cheerfulness behind it. Alas ! in
one short fortnight every rising hope was blighted, Emmeline'a
momentary dread fulfilled, and Lord Dehnont experiencing, in
nil its agony.
CHAPTER V.
Fkom the moment Arthur Hamilton returned to Cheltcii-
Lam with the painful intelligence that he had ai'rived at Leith
only in time to witness the departure of the beautiful vessel
which contained Captain Fortescue and the exquisitely lovely
bride who had, it seemed, turned the heads of all the usually
quiet Scotsmen who had seen her, Lord Delmont gradually
sunk. The agony of losing her forever for so he regarded
her departure for, and residence in India for an indeterminate
time conquered every other feehng. Her conduct had
caused emotions of anguish far too deep for the relieving sen-
sation of anger. The name of the lady firom whose bouse and
by whose connivance she had eloped, he was never heard to
breathe ; but, if ever casually mentioned before him, every
feature would become convulsed, and he would instantly leave
the room. Often and often he aceused his own harshness as
the cause of driving her from him, and then came, with over-
whelming bitterness, the thought that if he had lately been
harsh, surely the recollection of ail the indulgent fondness he
had shown demanded some gratitude in return. If she had
but written, had but expressed one wish for hia continued loves
one regret for hia present pain ! But no letter came, and the
contending but all -depressing emotions so completely under
alined a constitution never very strong, and ali-eady worn by
care, that wten another and still heavier trial came, he sunk
at once beneath it.
Though EleaBor had been his favorite, his feelings of pride
and hope had greatly centred in hia son, whose career, in five
yeai-s' active service on board a man-of-war had been such as
to raise him already to a lieutenancy, and excite every grati-
fying emotion, not only in hia immediate family, but in a targe
circle of admiring friends. Mrs. Hamilton's love for her
brother had naturally increased, strong as it always had been,
vea in childhood and tie visits which Charles had heen
enabled to make to Oakwood, brief in duration as they wei'e
compelled to be, had always been fraught with heartfelt, joyous
happiness, not only to herself hut to her husband. Tke pain
and anxiety attendant on Eleanor's elopement, and the dread
of its effects on Lord Delmont^ had for two or three months
heen the sole subject of thought; but at length, and, Hke a
fearful flash bringing % new sorrow lo light, it pressed upon
them that it was long aiier the period that intelligence of
Charles ought to have been received. Still hoping against
hope, not only the Delmont family, hut all who had friends and
relatives on hoard the Loander, imagined that she might have
drifted from lier course, or been engaged on some secret and
distant expedition, but that inteUigence concerning lier would
and must soon come, Alas I after months of agonizing sus-
pense, information was received that several planks and masts,
bearing evidence of fire as well as water, axid some sea-chests,
hearing names, only too soon recogniaed as those of some of
the Leander's erew, had been cast off the coast of Baj'bary,
and there could be no more doubt that death or slavery that
fearful slavery which the bombardment of Algiers had so dis-
played lo European eyes was the portion of all those be-
loved ones, for whom so many aching hearts and eyes had
watched and wept in vain. It was a trial so terrible that Mrs,
Hamilton felt at first as if even submission had departed from
her ; and she could almost have rebelled in spirit agfunst the
inscrutable decree, that had consigned one so free from vice and
evil, so full of happiness and worth, to a doom so terrihle.
Much as she had loved and reverenced her husbaad before,
she seemed never to have felt his worth and tenderness till
then. It was his sympathy, his strength, that recalled her to a
Benae of her duty, and gave her power to endure, hj a realiza-
tion once more of that submissiveness to a Fathei^a will, which
had never before failed her. But time, though it softened the
first anguish. Lad no power over the memories of this brotter,
not even when the iocreasing carea and joys of maternity so
fully engrossed lier, that tte present and the future of her
children appeared to have banished all of her own past.
Lord Delmont did not survive the mpumful tidings of the
certain wreck of the Leander above two months ; but his re-
leased spirit did iiot meet that of his eon. Charles was not
dead. He toiled as a slave long years in living death before
there Wfig even a partial amelioration of his sufferings. But
no tidings of him ever came ; a young child of three years old,
a distant branch of the Mauvers famUy, became Lord Del-
mont.
Years rolled on, and Mrs. Hamilton's lot was so full of tran-
quil happinesS; so fraught with innumerable daily joys of a lov-
ing wife and devoted mother, tliat her prayer was ever rising
for guidaac* and gratitude, that prosperity might not unfit her
for the dark days of trial and adversity, when they should
come. That she had cares as well as joys could not be other-
wise, when so intensely anxious to bring up her chUdren with
more regard to their spiritual and moral welfare than even the
cultivation of their intellect. She was one of those who thought
BtJH more of the trMning of the heart than of the mind, believ-
ing that were the first properly awakened, the latter would
need little incitement to exertion. Two girls had. been the sole
addition to her family.
One other wish, and one of many years' standing, Mrs. Ha-
milton had it in her power to fulfil. From childhood she had
been accustomed to think of Lucy Harcourt as one, to whom it
might' one day be in her power to return the heavy debt of
gratitude she owed her mother; she had been accustomed to
correspond with her from very early years ; Mrs. Harcourt
delighting in creating a mutual interest between her pupil and
the child fi^m whom circumstances had so sadly separated her.
When therefore an event of a very painful nature to Miss
Harcourt's individual feelings compelled her as the only
hope of regaining peace, and strengthening her for the arduous
duty of instruction, which she knew, as a single woman, was
hei- sole source of independent subsistence she had no
scruple in acceptiug that friendship which Mrs. Hamilton had
BO warmly proffered. A very few daya of personal intercourse
sufficed for mutual conviction, that correspondence had not
deceived in the favorable impressions of either. Miss Harcourl
found, indeed, the friend her aching spirit needed; and Mrs.
Haailton, Img before the cionths of repose which she had
in^sted shi-uld forestall the commenceiuent of exerlion were
tiver, rejoiced in the conviction that the daughter of her beloved
iind regretted friend was indeed well fitted for that position in
jier family her helper in the moral and intellectual training
of her daughters which her vivid fancy had often pictured
as so filled. They were indeed but infants when Miss Harcourt
arrived ; but Mr. and Mrs, Hamilton found means fo overrule
the honorable scruples which, on the part of Lncy, seemed at
first against their plan, and in her graduaUy returning health
and peace, Mrs. Hamilton not only rejoiced, but felt gratefully
thankful that the wish of so many years' standing, and which
had seemed so little likely to be fulfilled, was absolutely
accomplished, and she could prove how deeply she had loved
and moflmed her truly maternal friend. It is astonishing how
often, if an earnest, heartfelt desire for the gratification of some
good feeling or for the performance of some good deed be
steadily and unvaryingly held before us, without any regard to
its apparent impossibility, its accomplishment is at length
obtained. It is supposed to be only done so in books, but this
is a mistaken supposition, arising from the simple fact of indi-
viduals so ofien forgetting their own past, and feilifag steadily
l pursue one object^ regardless of the lapse of years. If they
looked ink) themselves more oftea and more carefully, if they
sought consistency in desire and pursuit, they would often be
startled at their connection, and that it is not so useless to wuk
and seek, when both are of such a nature as can be based on
aad strengthened by prayer, as it may seem. Human life
presents as many starthng connections and contingencies ait
romance -only as the actors not the observers of this world'ii
busy scene, we cannot trace them as we do in books.
The thought of Eleanor was the only dark shade in Mrs.
Hamilton's life. She had written to her often, but communica-
tion with India was not then what it is now, and her letters
might not have reached their destination; especially as being
in active service, Captain Fortescue was himself constantly
changing his quarters. Whatever the cause (for Eleanor's let-
ters, Mrs. Hamilton thought, might also have miscarried,) she
heard nothing of her till the hurried epistle commenced by her
sister, arid finished by Mr. Myrvin, brought the startling' intelli-
gence that she was a widow and dying, unable to reach Oat-
wood, where she had hoped at least to have sufiicient strength
to bring her children, and implore for them protection and love,
and conjuring Mrs, Hamilfoa to come to her without delay.
The letter, imperfectly directed, had been days on its journey
and it was with the most melancholy forehodings Mr. and Mrs,
Hamilton, had stai-ted for LlangwiUan.
Bat though it v/as not till many years after Edward and
Ellen Fortescue became inmates of her family that Mrs. Hamil-
toa became acquainted with all the particulars of then' child-
hood, it 13 necessary that our readers should bo rather more
enl^htened ; otherwise the cliaracter of Ellen may be to them
as unnatural and as incomprehensible as it was to her aunt.
That Eleanor could realize true happiness in a marriage en
tei-ed info only because she could not bear the torture of her
own thoughts, and her constant dread of the world's contumely,
was not likely. At first, indeed, it was a very delightful thing
U find herself the object not only of devotion to her husband
(whom, could she entirely have forgotten Fitzclair, she might
have really loved,) but a atiU more brilliant star in India than
she had even been in England. Though Captain Fortescue
was often engaged in marches and countermarches, where
Eleanor sometimes, though veiy rarely, accompanied him, still
there vrero intervals of rest for him in the larger cities, where
his wife ever shone preeminent. For the first three or four
years, the pride he felt in seeing her so universally admired, in
the greater attention he received for her sake, compensated for,
or concealed the qualities, which, as a soldier's wife, he had
fondly believed she would possess. But as his health, always
deUcate, became more and more undermined, and compelled
him to i^cHnquish society, at least in a great measure, and to
look for the quiet pleasures of domestic life, he found, and bit-
ter was that first awakening, that his wishes, his comfort, were
of no importance. She could not resign the pleasures of socie-
ty of still being enabled to pursue tlie dangerous amusement
of her girlhood (though so guardedly that not a rumor against
Uerever found breath,) for the dulness of her home, Tet
still he loved her ; and when Eleanor, with all the fascinating
playfulness of her foi-mer self, would cai-ess and try to persuade
him to go out with her, and not sit moping at home, and tiiat
if he would, she would behave just as he Hked, and if he did not
care to see her surrounded, as she knew she was, by red coats,
she would dismiss them all, and devote herself to him but
indeed she. could not stay at home he would feel that it would
be cruel indeed to chain such a being to his side, and sometimp..a
make the exertion (for which he was little fitted) to accompary
her ! at others, with kind words and indulgent love, permit her
lo follow her own wishes, and remain alone. But little did he
Ihiuk the real i-eason that EleMior could not rest in quiet al
bcme. The recollection of Lord Fitzolair was at such timss so
feiirfuOy yivid, that the very agonj she had endured when first
told of his fearful end would return in aU its intensity ; tjxn
thought : Had her father really cursed her for her disobedi-
ence, and was it that forever hovering- round her, preventing
any thing like lasting happiness ! And yet, by a strange con-
tradiction, while the idea of her father's curse shook her whole
frame at times with convulsive sobs, pride, that most fatal in-
gredient of her character, utterly prevented all attempt on her
part to communicate with her relations. She said, as they had
made no effort to conciliate, she would not ; and yet tlie long-
ing for Emmeljne sometimes became actually painful.
Eleanor was never intended for the heariJess, reckless being
she had tried to become. It was a constant and most terrible
struggle between the good and CTii parts of her nature, and
though the evil triumphed in the determination that nothing
should change her course of action, nothing compel her to
acknowledge she had over been in the wrong, and was really
not the perfect creature which flattery was ever ready to pour
into her ear the good had yet so much power as to make her
miserable, by the conviction, that she was not what she might
have been that she never could be happy that every plea-
sure was hollow, every amusement vain. Again and again the
memories of Emmeline'a gentle, sustaining, ever-active piety
would come before her, aa if beseeching her to seek the only
fount of peace; hut so terrible waa the self-reproach, the an-
guish which the thought called up, that she always turned from
it with a shudder, resolved that religion was never meant for
such as herself, and that its restrictions should never enter her
mind, or its dictates pass her lips.
With the awakening intelligence of her son, however, there
seemed one pleasure not wholly hollow one enjoyment with-
out the shadow of alloy ; and she grasped it with an avidity
and a constancy, that in a character generally so wavering and
inconsistent was almost incredible. That her son was from his
earheat infancy the image of herself, might have added strength
to the feeling; bt the intense love, almost idolatry, she felt
toward him, increasing with his growth, did much toward
banisliing the unpleasant feelings of remorse and home-sickness.
She devoted herself to her boy, not judiciously indeed, for she
was not one to practise self-denial in education; and as Ed-
ward's disposition was not one to cause her annoyance, even
from over-indulgence, there was not even the check of his ill
temper or rudeness toward herself, to whisper the fearful evil
she was engendering.
"What was the emotion which had so riveted her to her sot;
it might have been difficult to ascertain; it could scarcely have
been the mere instinct of maternity, for then it would have ex-
tended to her daughter; but as complete as was her indulgence
to Edwaril, so was her neglect of Ellen.
Colonel Fortescue {for he had gradually attained that rank)
had home, without complaint, neglect of himself; nay, it had
not had power in the least degree to diminish his love, though it
might have awakened him to the consciousness that his wife was
indeed not perfect. Her devotion to Edward, even undertaking
the toilsome task of instruction, had delighted him ; for, at first,
having been much from home, he was not conscious of the lonely
fate of his little girl ; but when the truth became evident, that
she was an object almost of dislike that she was left entirely
to the tender raerciea of a hireling, and Eleanor only alluded to
her, to contrast her peevishness and stupidity with Edward's
happiness and inteOect, all the father was i-oused within him,
and, for the first time, he felt and expressed serious displeasure.
He acknowledged that his son might, indeed, be superior in
beauty and talent, but he would not allow that Ellen's affections
were less warm, or her temper less capable of guidance. To
him, and to all who had in the least attended to childhood, El-
len's fece, even from infancy, expressed not lE-temper, but suf-
fering. Continually ill, for she inherited her father's constitu-
tion, the poor Httie infant was constantly ciying or fretful;
wliich Eleanor, never having known what illness was, attributed
at once to a naturally evil temper which annoyed her. The
nurse, as ignorant as she was obsequious, adopted the same
opinion; and, before she was even three years old,. harshness,
both by nurse and mother, had been constantly used, to make
EOen as good a child as her brother.
In vain did the Colonel, when he became aware of this treat-
ment, remonstrate that it was the illness of the poor child ~
neither obstinacy nor ill-temper : his wife would not undci-stand
him, and at length he stemiy and peremptorily declared, that
as she had her will with Edward, he would have his with Ellen,
and that do chastisement should be inflicted. If she did wrong,
he was to be told of if, and if necessary he would reprove her,
but he would allow no other interference. Mrs. Fortescue
made r.ot the least objection, believing that as her husband had
thus taisn her in charge, she was exonerated from all blame if
ehe left her entirely to him.
Only too quickly did the poor child discover that the lovely
being v.'hom she called mother, and whom she loved so fowUy,
With no love, no caress for her. Repeated ^ unishment, though
it liad only extended to her fifth year, had completely cmshed
the gentle, tender spirit, th^t had required such judicious nurs-
ing ; and combined with physical suffering, instead of deaden-
ing the feelings, as in some dispositions it would have done, had
rendered thera morbidly acute - an effect which constant lone-
liness naturally deepened. Her father's love and caresses had
caused her to ding to him so passionately, that every word he
said, every request he made her, was treasured and thought
upon, when he was away from her, with a tenacity many would
have fancied imnatural in a child. He taught her, tliough his
heart often bled aa he did so (for what claim had her mother
upon the feelings he sought to inculcate,) to love, honor, and
obey her mother in all things that if she did so, she would be
as happy as Edward in time ; and Ellen, though she did not un-
derstand him, obeyed. But Colonel Fortescue little imagined
Ihe evil which was accruing from these very natural lessons.
Ellen learned to believe that, as her mother never noticed
her, except in accents of anger or irritation^ it must be her own
feult. She longed to be beautiful and buoyant as Edward ; and
that she was neither, marked her in her own youDg mind as so
inferior, it was no wonder her mother could not caress or love
her. Had Edward presumed on his favoritism, and been un-
kind or neglectful, she might, perhaps, have envied more than
she loved him ; but his disposition was naturally so noble, so
open-hearted, so generous, that he always treated her with af-
fection, and would sliare with her his playthings and sweets,
even while he could not but believe her in all things his in-
ferior ; and that as such, of course, her wishes could never cross
with liis. Poor child, she scai'cely knew what it was to wish,
except that she might cling to her mother as she did to her
fether, and that she could but be good and beautiful enough to
win her love I The lesson of concealment of eveiy feeling is
but too easily and too early learned. Tears do not flow even
from childhood, when always rudely checked, and angrily re-
proved. Affection cannot display itself unless called forth ;
and so (he very outward seeming of children is more in a pa^
rent's hand than mere superficial observere may believe : and
Mi-s. Fortescue blamed and disliked the cold inanimate exterior
which she had never tried to warm.
Ellen's extreme ditiiculty in acquiring knowledge, compared
with Edward's extraordinary quicliness, only confirmed her
painful conviction of her great inferiority, the impossibility of
her over winning lore and the consequent increased intensity
of her affection foi' her faLher and brotlier, v/ho loved her not-
withstanding. That tile cluld lierself could not have defined
these sensations is true; but that they had existence, even be-
fore she was nine yeai'S old, and that they iijfliienced many
years of her after-life, causing error and sTiffering, and render-
ing Mrs. Hamilton's task one of pain and difficulty, before these
mistaken influences could be eradicated, is equally so. The
power over early years is so immense, its i-esponsibility so ex
tensive, its neglect or abuse may indeed make the earnest
thinker tremble ; less, perhaps, for tho actual amount of general
evil, for that circumstances in after life are aometimea graciously
permitted to avert, hut for individual suffering and individual
jay and especially is this tbe case in the training of girls.
More enduring in their very fr^ility than boys, they may be
compared to those precious metals which fire and water and
pressure have no power to break, but simply to draw out to a
thinner and thinner thread, dwindling more and more, but to
its last spider-woven fineness capable of tenuity and vitality.
While boys, hke men, are often crushed at once the frame
of tlie one and the spirit of the other equally unable to endure.
CHAPTER VI.
DOMESTIC DISCORD AND ITS END.
The displeasure of her husband, his reproaches for her con-
duct to Ellen, by causing some degree of annoyance, increased
Mrs. Fortescue's feelings of dislike toward the object who bad
caused it, and this was soon afterward heightened by self-
reproach.
A malignant fever broke out in the British settlement where
Colonel Fortescue was stationed ; his wife and children were
with him, and, dreadfully alarmed, Eleanor 'determined to re-
move with her children to some less unhealtby spot. The
Colonel willingly consented ; but before their hasty prepara-
tions were concluded Ellen sickened. Alarm for Edward,
however, so engrossed the mother, that she appeared incapable
of any other thought. In vain Colonel Fortescue urged that
his son would be safe with the Mends who had promised to
take charge of him, aad who were on the point of leaving the
city ; that there were none on wliom he could, depend so to
tend the little sufferer aa not to require a guiding head, and she
knew how impossible it was for him to be with his child as hia
heart prompted. He ui'ged, estreafed, commanded in vain,
Mrs. Fortescue was inexorable. She declared that the idea
of her son being away from her at such a time would drive her
mad ; and as for duty, one child demanded her care aa much as
another; that her husband might not care about thus exposing
her fo infection, but she really thought, for Edward's sake, it
was her duty to tafce care of herself. It might be nothing to
the Colonel or Ellen whether she lived or died, but to Edward
it was a great deal ; and so as she must choose between them,
she would go with him who loved her best, and who would be
miserable without her. The haughty, angry tone with which
she spoke, the unjust taunt, roused every indignant feehng, and
Colonel EortsCHe said more in that moment of irritation than
he could have believed possible. But it only awakened the
cold, sustaining pride which Eleanor always called to her aid
when conscience smote her, and she departed with her son,
hardening every better feeling, and rousing anger against her
husband and iild to conquer the suffering of self-reproach.
But when; many miles from tiie city of death, and there werfe
no fears for Edward, anxiety and wretchedness so assailed her,
that pride itself gave way. To communicate with the infected
dty was difficult, and very infrequent, and again, and again did
she wish that she had remained.
During the continuance of EUen's illness her father's anguish
was indeed terrible. Every leisure moment he spent by her
side, moistening her parched lips, bathing her burning forehead,
and listening to the plsuntive accents of delirium with an. acute-
ness of suffering, that injured his own health more than he had
(he least idea of. The atfehdania were really both kind and
skilful, but the Colonel fancied, when he was not with her, she
was neglected, and ia still greater suffering; and the struggle
between his duties and his child was almost more than he could
bear. Ho had never been a religious man never known what
it was to pray, except in the pubhc ser-ricea of his regiment :
but now prayer, earnest, heartfelt, poured from him ; and the
thankfulness to God, which so overpowered him when she was
pronounced out of danger, as to compel Tiim to weep like a
child, planted a sense of a Father's infinite love and infinite
compassion within him, which was his sole suslsuner. the short
remainder of his life.
Eleanor's letters, few as they were, had in some degree soft
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
60 UOJfE rHFLUEtJU.
ened his anger toward her; bat as he heheld the I'avages of
disease on his poor child's face and form, rendering her still less
attractive than she had heen, and perceived that bodily weak-
ness had estended to her mind, and often and often forced tcM^
from her eyes and momentary complainings, he trembled lost
Eleanor should find still more to dislike and reprove ; and often
his heart hied as Ellen would ask with tears, for her dear
mamma, adding, plaintively, " Mamma never kisses me or loves
me as she does Edward; but I like to he near her, and look at
her dear beautiful face, and wish I was good and pretty enough
for her to love me. Why does she never come to mo ? and
why may I not go to her?"
And what could the Colonel reply, except tliat her mother
feared Edward would take the infecU.on, and therefore she was
obliged to go with him to some place of safety ? And his child
was satis&ed, repeating so fondly her delight that her dear, dear
Edward had been saved from being as ill as she was, that her
father elapsed her closer and closer to his heart, feeling the in-
trinsic beauty of a disposition that, instead of repining that she
was left alone to suffer, could rejoice that her brother had been
spared.
Colonel Fortescue obt^ned a few weeks' leave, that he might
take his child to the seaside as recommended, ere she joined
her mother. And alone with Mm, gradually regaining a mode-
rate degree of strength, Ellen was very happy ; but such bright
intervals were indeed few and far between. There was no
change in her mothei's conduct toward her, when, reunited.
Her heart had indeed risen to her lips as she again beheld the
child so nearly lost ; and had she followed impulse, she would
have daaped her in her arms and wept over her, hut that would
have seemed tacitly to acknowledge that she had been wrong,
and had suffered from it; and so she refrained, causing suffer-
ing to herself, anguish to her child, and "ptwn to her husband,
all from that fell demon, pride. She only chose to remember
that it was Ellen who had been the cause of her husband's
anger ECen, the constant subject of contentioa between them
Ellen, always causing the pang of self-reproach : and so how
was it possible that she could love her?
About a year after Ellen's dangerous illness, when she was
nearly ten, and Edward just eleven, Colonel Eorteseue was or-
dered to take command of some troops to be stationed at a fort,
whose vicinity to some hostile natives rendered it rather a post
of danger. The wives and children of the ofQcers were per-
mitted to accompany them, if they wished it, and, except in thr
Colonel's own family, there had tieea no hesitation in theii
ciioice. The Colonel was strangely and ptucfully depressed as
with some vague dread, and all his affection for his wife had
returned with such force as to make him shrink in unusual suf-
fering from the idea of leaving her ; and conquering reluctance,
for he felt as if she would not acede, he implored her to ac-
company hiui, confessing he felt ill and unhappy, and shrank
from a separation. His wife looked at him with astonishment ;
ho had never asked nor thought of such a thing before, she said,
in their many brief paitings, and she really could not under-
stand him. The place was decidedly unhealthy, and Edward
must not bo exposed to its malaria; besjdes which, she had
promised him to go to a juvenile ball, which was given by an
English family of rank, in a fortnight's time, and she eould not
possible disappoint him; and why her husband should. wish for
her in such a place she could not imagine, but she knew she
should die of terror before she had been there a week. Not a
word did the Colonel utter in reply, but he felt as if an ice-bolt
had struck his heari; and frozen it at once. He fixed his eyes
upon her, with a strange, sad, reproaching look, which haunted
her tin her death, and turning from her, sought the room where
Ellen was prepai-ing her lessons for the joyful hour when he
could attend to her. As she sprung toward liim with a cry of
glee, he clasped her to his bosom, without the power of uttering
a sound, save a groan so deep and hollow, that the child's un-
usual glee was cheeked, and she clung to him. in terror; and
when he could tell her that he was about to leave her, and for
an indefinite time, her passionate grief seemed ahnost to com-
fort him, by its strong evidence of her childish love,
"Let me go with you, papa, dear papal oh I I will be so
good I will not give you any trouble, indeed, indeed I will
not. Pray, pray, take me with you, dear, dear papa ! " And
she looked in his face so beseechingly, that the colonel had no
strength to resist, and fondly kissing her, he promised that if
Mrs. Cameron would permit her to join her little family, she
should go with him ; and, to Ellen's intense thankfulness, the
permission was willingly accorded.
Mrs. Fori^escue had indeed replied, when her husband briefly
imparted his intention, that he certainly must intend Ellen to
bo ill again, by exposing her to such an unhealthy climate ; and
that if she were, he must not be angry if she refiised to go and
nurse her, as it would be all his weak indulgence, and no fault
of hers. The Colonel made no answer, 4nd, irritated beyond
measure at his manner, Eleanor parted from her husband in
colJnoss and in pride.
The fortnight passed, and Mrs. Eortescuo folt as if her own
jwittt irere indeed renewed, the longings for universal adinira"
tion again her own ; bat now it was only for her son, and her
triumph was complete ; many and lovely were the youthful
beings called iogether on that festive night, seeming as if Eng-
land had concentrated her fairest and purest offspring in that
far distant land ; but Edward, and his still lovely mother, out-
ehone them all. That she was herself admired as much, if not
more, tlian she had ever been in her palmy days of triumph,
Eleanor scarcely knew ; her every feehng was centred in her
boy, and consequently the supercilious haughtiness which had
80 oilen marred her beauty in former days was entirely laid
aside, and maternal pride and pleasure gratified to the utmost,
added a new chaMn to her every movement and every word.
She heard the universal burst of admiration which greeted her,
as to oblige Edward she went through a quadrille with him,
and never in her whole career Lad she felt so triumphant, so
proud, so joyous. Daring the past fortnight she had often been
tormented by a elf-reproach, and her husband's look had disa-
greeably haunted her ; but this night not a fleeting thought of
either the Colonel or Ellen entered her mind, and her pleasure
was complete.
Tired ivith dancing, and rather oppressed with the heat, El-
eanor quitted tie crowded baU-room, and stood for a few mi-
nutes quite alone in a solitary part of the veraada, which, cov-
ered witli lovely flowers, ran round the house. The music in
the ball-room sounded in the distance as if borne by the nighl
breeze in softened harmony over the distant liills. The moou
was at the full, and lit up nearly the whole garden with the
i-ef ulgence of a milder day. At that moment a cold chiU crept
over the heart and frame of Eleanor, causing her breath to
come thick and gaspingly. WJiy, she knew not, for there was
nothing visible to cause it, save that, in one pai't of the garden,
a cluster of dark shrubs, only partly illuminated by the rays of
the moon, seemed suddenly to have assumed the shape of a
funeral bier, covered with a military palL At the same mo-
ment the music in the ball-room seemed changed to the low
wailing plaint and muffled drums, the military homage to some
mighty dead. And if it were indeed but excited fancy, it had
a strange effect, for Eleanor fainted on the marble floor.
That same afternoon Colonel Fortescue, with some picked
men, had set off to discover tlie track of some marauding
nitives, who for aome days had been observed hovering abciut
tlie neighborhood. Military ardor carried him farther than he
intended, and it ivas nearly night, when entering a narrow
defile, a large body of the enemy burst upon them, and a des-
perate contest ensued. The defile was so hemmed in with
rock and mountain, that though not very distant from the fort,
Ihe noise of the engagement had not been distinguished. Cap-
tain Cameron waa quietly sitting with his wife and elder child-
ren, awaiting without any forebodings the return of the Colonel.
Though it was late, Ellen's fears had been so visible, that Mrs.
Cameron could not send her to bed ; the child seemed ao rest-
less and nneasy that the Captain had tried to laugh her out of
her cowardice, as he called it, declaring that her father would
disown her if she could not be more brave. Hasty footsteps
were at length heard approaching, and Ellen started from her
seat and sprung forward, as the door opened; but it was not
the Colonel, only a sergeant, who had accompanied him, and
whose face caused Captain Cameron to exclaim, in aJaim,
" How now, Sergeant Allen, returned and alone ; what has
chanced?"
" The worst those brown devils could have done ! " was the
enei^etie reply. "We've beatea them, and we will beat them
again, the 'viUains I but that will not bring Mm back Cap-
tmn Captain, the Colonel's down ! "
The Captain started from his chair, but before he could frame
another word, Ellen had caught hold of the old man's arm,
and wildly exclaimed, " Do you mean do you mean, pray
teU me, Sergeant Allen! Have the natives met papa's
troop, and hare they fought? and is he hurt is he
killed ? " The man could not answer her for her look and
tone, he afterward declared to his comrades, went through his
heart, just for all the world like a sabre-cut; and for the mo-
ment neither Captain nor Mrs. Cameron could address her.
The shoclt seemed to have banished voice from all save from
the poor child principally concerned.
" Stay with me, my dear Ellen ! " Mrs, Cameron at length
stud, advancing to her, as she stood still clinging to the ser-
geant's arm: "the Captain will go and meet your father, and
if ha be wounded, we will nurse him together, dearest I Stay
with me."
"No, no, no!" was the agonized reply ; "let me go to him,
ho may die before they bring him here, and I shall never fee.
his kiss or hear him bless me again. He told me he should
fall in battle oh ! Mrs. Cameron, pray let me go to him."
And they who knew all which that father was to his poor
Ellen, could not resist that appeal. The sergeant said the
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
54 HOME INFLOENCE.
Colonel was not dead, but so mortally wounded they feared to
moye Mia. It was a fearful scene. Death in its most horrid
form was all around her; her httle feet were literally deluged
in blood, and she frequently stumbled over the dusky forms
and mangled aad severed limbs that lay on the grass, but
neither sob nor cry escaped her tUl she beheld her' father. His
mea had removed him from the immediate scene of slaughter,
and tried to form a rough pallet of military cloaks, but the
ghastly countenance, which the moon's light rendered still
more fixed and pallid, the rigidity of iiis limbs, all seemed to
denote they had indeed arrived too late, and that terrible still-
ness was broken by the convulsed and passionate sobs cf the
poor child, who, flinging herself beside him, besought him only
to open his eyes, to look upon her once more, to call her his dar-
ling, and kiss her once, only once again : and it seemed as if
hpr voice had indeed power to recall the fluttering soul. The
heavy eyes did unclose, the clenched hand relaxed to try and
eJasp his child, and he murmured feebly
" How came you here, my poor darling Ellen ? are friendfi
here? is that Cameron's voice ? " The CaptMii knelt dowu
by hira and convulsively pressed his hand, but h'e could not
speak.
" God bless you, Cameron ! Take my poor child to her
mother implore her to and it is to-night, this very
night she and my boy are happy and I and my poor
Ellen " A fearful convulsion choked his voice, but after a
little while he tried to speak again
" My poor child, I have prepared you for this ; but I know
you must grieve for me. Takp my blessing to your brother,
tell Iiim lo protect love your mother, darling ! she must love
you at last -a ring my left hand take it to her oh!
how I have loved her God have mercy on her on my
poor children ! " He fried to press his lips again on Ellen's
cheek ajid brow, but the effort was vain and at the very
moment Mrs. Fortescue had stood transfixed by some unknown
terror, her hushand ceased to breathe.
It was long before Ellen rallied from that terrible scene.
Even when the fever which followed subsided, and she had
been taken, apparently perfectly restored to health, once more
to her mother and brother, its recollection so haunted her, that
her many lonely hours became fraught with intense suffering.
Her imagination, already only too morbid, dwelt again imd
again upon the minutest particular of that field of horror ; not
iilly her father, but tks objects which, when her whole heart
was wi-apped in him, she seemed not even to tave eeeu. The
ghastly heaps of dead, the severed Hmbs, the mangled trunks,
the gleaming faces aJl fixed iji the distorted expressions with
which they died the very hollow groans and louder cry of
pain which, as she passed through the field, had fallen on her
ear unheeded, returned to the poor cliild'a too early awakened
fancy so vividly, that often and often it was only a powerful
though almost unconscious effort that prevented the scream of
fear. Her father's last words were never forgotten ; she would
not only continue to love her mother becanse he had desired
her to do so, but because he had so loved her, and on her first
return home this seemed easier than ever to accomplish. Mrs.
Fortescue, tortured by remorse and grief, had s(ynewhat soft-
ened toward the child who had received the last breath of her
husband ; and could Ellen have overcome the reserve and fear
which so many years of estrangement had engendered, and
given vent to the warmth of her nature, Mrs. Fortescue might
have learned to know, and knowing, to love her but it wa^
then too late.
So torturing were Mrs. Fortescue's feelings when she recalled
the last request of her husband, and her cruel and haughty
refusal ; when that which had seemed so important, a juvenile
ball because not to go would disappoint Edward became
associated with his fearful death, and sunk into worse than
nothing she had parted with him in anger, and it proved for-
ever ; that even as England had become odious to her, twelve
years before, so did India now ; and she suddenly resolved to
quit it^ and I'ctum to the relatives she had neglected so long,
but toward whom she now yearned more than ever. She
thought and believed such a complete change would and must
bring peaoe. Alas ! what change will remove the torture of
remorse !
Though incapable of real love, from her studied heartless-
ness, it was impossible for her to have lived twelve years with
one BO indulgent and fond as Colonel Fortescue, without real-
izing some degree of affection, and his unexpected and awful
death roused every previously dormant feeling so powerfully,
that she was astonished at herself, and in her misery believed
tliat the feeling had only come lo add to her burden for what
was the use of loving now ? and, determined to rouse hei-self,
she made every preparation for immediate departure ; but she
was painfully arrested. The selfish mother had fled ftom the
couch of her suflering child, and now a variation of the same
complaint laid her on a bed of ptun. It was a desperate strug-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
56 HOME INFLUEJICE.
gle between life and iJeath; but she rallied, and insisted on
biking her passage for EngUiad some weeks before herBcedical
attendant thought it advisable. The constant struggle between
the whisperings of good and the dominiou of evil, which her
whole life had been, had unconsciously undermined a constitu-
tion naturally good ; and when to this was added a malignant
disease, though brief in itself, the seeds of a mortal complaint
were planted, which, ere the long voyage was concluded, had
obtMned fatal and irremediable ascendency, and occasioned
those suficrings and death wliich in our first chapters we de-
scribed.
To Edward, though the death of his father had caused him
much childish grief, still more perhaps from sympathy with the
deep suffering of his mother, than a perfect consciousness of his
own heavy loss, the manner in which he died was to him a
source of actual pride. He had always loved the histories of
heroes, military and naval, and gloried in the idea that his
father had been one of them, and died as they did, bravely
fighting gainst superior numbers, and in the moment of a
glorious victory. He had never seen death, and imagined not
all the attendant horrors of such a one ; and how that Ellen
could never even hear the word without shuddering he could
not understand, nor why she should always so painfully shrink
from the remotest reference to that night, which was only asso-
ciated in his mind with emotions of pleasure. In the tedious
voyage of nearly six months (for five-and-twenty years ago
the voyage from India to England. was not what it is now,) the
character of Edward shone forth in such noble coloring as
almost to excuse his mother's idolatry, and win for bim the
regard of passengers and crew, CaptEiin Cameron had im-
pressed on his mind that he now stood in his father's place to
his mother and sister ; and as the idea of protecting is always
a strong incentive to manliness in a boy, however youthful,
Edward well redeemed the chai-ge, so devoting himself not
only to his mother, hut to Ellen, liiat her affection for him
redoubled, as did her mistaken idea of his vast superiority.
His taste had always pointed to the naval in preference to
the military profession, and the voyage confirmed it. Before
he had been a month on board he had become practically an
expert sailor had learned all the technical names of the
various parts of a ship, and evinced the most eager desire for
the acquirement of navigation. Nor did he fail in the true
sailor spirit, when, almost within sight of England, a tremendous
storm arose, reducing the vessel almost to a wreck, carrying hei
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME ISiELUENCE. 67
fiir from lier destined moorings, and compelling lier, after ten
tlays' doubt whether or not she would reach land in safety, ta
anchor in Milford Haven, there to repair her injuries, ere she
could be again seaworthy.
The passengers here left her, and Mrs. Fortescue, whose
illness the teirors of the storm had most alarmingly increased,
was conveyed to Pembi-oke in an almost exhausted state ; but
once on laid she rallied, resolved on instantly proceeding to
Swansea, then cross to Devonshire, and travel direct to Oak-
wood, where she had no doubt her sister was. But her temper
was destined to be tried still more. The servant who had ac-
companied her from India, an Englishwoman, tii-ed out with
the fretful impatience of Mrs. Fortescue during the voyf^e, and
disappointed that she did not at once proceed to London, de-
manded her instAnt discharge, as she could not stay any longer
from her friends. The visible illness of her mistress might
have spared this unfeeling act^ but Eleanor had never shown
feeling or kindness to her inferiors, and therefore, perhaps, had
no right to expect them. Her suppressed anger and annoy-
ance so increased physical suffeiing, that had it not been for
her children she must have sunt at once ; but for their sakes
she struggled with that deadly exhaustdon, and set off the very
next inorning, without any attendant, for Swansea. They wei-e
not above thirty miles from this town when, despite her every
effort, Mrs, Fortescue became too ill to proceed. There was
no appeai'ance of a town or village, but the owners of a half-
way house, pitying the desolate condition of the travellers,
directed tlie postboy to the village of Llangwillan ; which,
though out of the direct road, and four or five miles distant,
was yet the nearest place of shelter. And never in her whole
life had Mrs. Fortescue experienced such a blessed sensalion
of physical relief, as when the benevolent exertJons of Mr. Myr-
vin had instaUed her in. widow Morgan's humble dwelling, and
by means of soothing medicine and deep repose in some degree
relieved the torture of a burning brain and aching frame. Still
she hoped to rally, and obtain strength sufficient to proceed ;
and bitter was the anguish when the hope was compelled to be
relinquished. With all that followed, our readers ai'e already
ooquainied, and we will, therefore, at once seek the acquaint-
ance of Mrs. Hamilton's own family, whose " Traits of Cha-
racter" will, we hope, illustrate other and happier home
influences than those of indiacreet indulgence and culpable
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
PAUT II.
TRAITS OP CHARACTER.
CHAPTER I.
TOUTHPOL COLLOQUY INTEODUCING-
The curtains were drawn close, the large lamp was on the
table, and a cheerful fii-e blazing m the grate ; for though only
September, the room was sufficiently large, and the evenings
sufficiently cliill, for a fire to add greatly to its aspect of true
English comfort. There were many admirable pictures sus-
pended on the walla, and well-filled book-cases, desks, and
maps, stands of heauliful flowers, and some ingenious toys, all
seeming to proclaim the apartment as the especial possession of
the young party who were this eyening busily engaged at the
large round table which occupied the centre of the room.
They were only four in number; but what with a large desk
piled with books and some most alarming-sized dictionaries,
which oceupied the elder of the two lads, the embroidery frame
of the elder girl, the dissected map before her sister, and two
or three books scattered round the yonnger boy, the table
seemed so well fiUed that Miss Harcourt had quietly ensconced
herself in her own private little comer, sufficiently near to take
an interest, and sometimes join in the conversation of her youth-
ful charge ; but so apart as to he no restraint upon them, and lo
enable her to pursue her own occupations of either reading,
writing, or working uninterruptedly. Could poor Mrs. Fortes-
cue have glanced on the happy group, she certainly might have
told her sister, with some show of justice, that there was such
an equal distribution of interesting and animated expression
(which is the great beauty of youth,) that she could not have
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME IKFLOENCJi. 59
tnown thj trial of having such a, heavy, dull, unhappy child as
Ellen. Mrs. Hamilton, indeed, we i-ather think, would not havs
considered such a trial, except as it proved iil-health and physi-
cal paiu in the httle sufferer ; and, perhaps her increased care
and lndemess (for such with her would have heen the conse-
quence of the same cause which had created her sistr's neglect)
might hare removed hoth the depression of constant but im-
palpable illness, and tlie expression of heaviness and gloom.
Certain it is, that her own Herbert had, with regard to delicate
health, given her more real and constant anxiety than Eleauov
had ever allowed herself to es:perienee with Ellen ; but there
was nothing in the boy's peculiarly interesting countenance to
denote the physical suffering he very often endured. Care and
love had so surrounded his path with blessings, that he was
often heard to declare, that he never even wished to be as
strong as his brother, or to share his active pleasures, he had so
many othera equally delightful. Whether it was his physical
temperament, inducing a habitude of reflecfion and studious
tHoiight much beyond his years, or whether the unusuaDy gifted
mind worked on the frame, or the one combined to form the
other, it would be as impossible to decide with regard to him
as with hundreds of others like him ; but he certainly seemed,
not only to his parents, hut to their whole household, and to
every one who casually associated with him, lo have more in
Lim of heaven than earth ; as if indeed he were only lent, not
given. * And ofln and oftea his, mother's heart ached with
its very intensity of love, causing the unspoken dread how
might she hope to retfun one so faultless, and yet so full of every
human sympathy and love ! The delicate complexion, beauti-
ful color of his cheeks and lips, and large soft, very dark blue
eye, with its long black lash, high, arched brow, shaded by
glossy chestnut hair, were all so Ut up with the rays of mind,
that though his face returned again and again to the' fancy of
those who had only once beheld it, they could scarcely have re-
called a single feature, feeling only the almost angelic expres-
*ion of the whole.
His brother, as full of mirth and mischief, and as noisy and
laughter-loving as Herbert was quiet and thoughtful, made his
way at once, winning regard by storm, and retaining it by his
frank and generous quahties, which made him a favorite with
young and old. Even in his hours of study, there was not the
least evidence of reflection or soberness. As a child he had
had much to contend with, in the way of passion, pr'de, and
nelfwill i but his home influenee had been such a judicious
blending of indulgence and firmness on tJie part of botli Iiis
parents, such persevering inculcalion of a strong sense of
duty, i-eli^ous and moral, that at fifteen his difBctUties had
been all nearly overcome ; and, except when occasional acts of
thoughtlessness and hsisty impulse luted him into error and its
ptunful consequences, he was as happy and as good a lad as
even his anxious mother could desire.
The elder of his two sisters resembled him in the bright, dark,
flashing eye, the straight intellectual brow, the rich dark hrown
hair and weU-formed mouth; but the expression was so differ-
ent at present, that it was often difficult to trace the likeness
that actually existed. Haughtiness, and but too often ill-tem-
per, thi-ew a shade over a countenance, which when happy and
animated was not only attractive then, but gave a fair promise
of gi-eat beauty in after years. The disposition of Caroline
Hamilton was in fact naturally so similar U that of her aunt,
Mrs. Fortescue, that Mrs. Hamilton's task with her was not
only more difficult and painful in the present than with any of
the others, but her dread of the future at times so overpower-
ing, that it requh-ed all her husband's influence fo calm her, by
returning trust in Him, who liad promised to answer all who
called upon Him, and would bless that mother's toils which were
based on, and looked up alone, to His influence on her child,
and guidance for herself.
The blue-eyed, fair-haired, graceful, little Emmeline, not
only the youngest of the family, but from her shght figure, deh-
cate, small features, and childish manner, appearing even much
yomiger than she was, was indeed a source of joy and love to
all, seeming as if sorrow, except for others, could not approach
her. She had indeed much that required a carefully guiding
hand, in a yielding weatiiess of disposition, , indolent habit in
learning, an unrestrt^ed fancy, and its general accompaniment,
over-sensiliveness of feeling, but so easily guided by affection,
and with a disposition so sweet and gentle, that a word from
her mother was always enough. Mrs. HamUton had little tetaa
for her, except, indeed, as for the vast capability of individual
Buffering which such a disposition engendered, in those trials
which it was scarcely possible she might hope to pass through
life without. There was only one safeguard, one unfailing com-
fort, for a character like hers, and that was a deep ever-present
eenae of reli^on, which untiringly, and yet more Ijy example
than by pi-ecept, her parents endeavored to instU. Grea&y,
indeed, would boUi Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton have be :n astonish-
ed, had they been fold that the little girl, Ellen Foiteseue, who
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME IHFLUENCE. 61
to ho'ii waa such an enigma, and wlio was seemingly in all
things so utlerly nolite tlieir Emmeline, was in natnral disposi-
tion exactly the same ; and tiat.the vast difference in present
and future character simply arose fjx)m the fact, that the early
influences of the one were sorrow and neglect, and of the other,
happiness and love.
"I vronder whether mamma and papa will really come homii
to-night ; " observed Caroline, after several minutes of unbroken
silence, all seemingly so engrossed ia their owu. occupations ns
to have no inclination to spuak. "And if tliey do, I wish we
could know the exaet time, I do so hate expecting and being
disappointed."
"Then neither wonder nor expect, my sage sister," replied
Percy, without, however, raising his head or interrupting his
writing ; " and I will give you two capital reasons for my ad-
vice. Firstly, wonder is the offspring of ignorance, and has two
opposite effects on my sex and on yours. "With us it is closely
connected with philosophy, for we are told in. 'wonder all phi-
losophy begins, in wonder it ends, and adoration fills up the
inter space ; " bu t with you, poor weak creatures, the only effect
it produces is increased curiosity, of which you have natui-aJly a
more than adequate supply. Secondly, if you begin to wonder
aud except, and speculate as to the ayes and noes of a contin-
gency to-night, you will not cease talking till mamma really
does appear; and then good-by to laj theme, for to write
while your tongue is running, is impossible. - So pray, take my
advice, on consideration that yon have had as good a sermon-
from me as my reverend brother Herbert can ever hope to
"I do not tlimk mamma and papa will be quite satisfied if
he do not give us a much better one, even the very first time
he attempts it," lejomed Emmeline, with a very arch look at
her brother
""What, you agamst me. Miss Emmyl and beginning to talk
too. You forget what an important personage I am, during
papa's absence especially; and tiiat as such, I am not to be in-
sulted with impunity. So here goes as a fresh exercise for
your patience!" And he mingled all the fixed and unfixed
parts of her map in most bewildering confusion, regardless of
her laughing entreaty to let them alone.
"You have tried a very bad way to keep me quiet, Percy,"
continued Caroline; "you must either explain why wonder
jnay not equaDy have the SEjne good effect on ns as on you, or
retract your words entirely. You know you would not have
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
Ba HOME ItiFLDENCE.
expressed such a contemptuous opinion, if mamma had been
"My mother is such a very superior person, that when she
is present her auperiorily extends over her whole sex, Caro-
line ; even you are safe, hecause, aa her child, it is to be hoyed
that one of these days you may be something like her ; exactly,
I do not expeet two such women as my mother can not
" As if your opinion were of such importance, Percy," re-
plied Caroline haughtily ; " it really is very little consequence
to me whether you think me like mamma or not."
" It is to me, though," rejoined Emmeline, earnestly ; " I
would rather be like mamma than like anybody else, and J
should like Percy to think I was, because then he would love
me sfill more."
"Bravo, my little Em; spoken almost aa well as I could
myself; and, as a reward, as soon as this most annoying piece
of erudition is accomplished, I will help you with your map.
Why, you silly little thing, you have put Kamschatka as the
terra firma of South America; no doubt that ice and snow
would be very welcome there, but how the Americans would
stai-e to see the fur-clad Kamschatkans such aear neighbors.
That's it, go on, puzzle away tiU I can help you. And you
Miss Caroline, retain your contempt of my opinion, and may
you never repent it."
" I thought you told me not to talk, Percy," repHed his sis-
ter ; " and I should like to know who is talking the most, you
or I ? Tou win not finish what you are doing before tlie bell
rings for prayers, if you go on in this way."
" That proves how little you know the extent of my powers.
I have only to make a dean copy of these learned reflections.
"Why, in the name of all the gods, were there such prbvokingly
clever people as Seneca, Cicero, Pliny, and a host of otLers I
or, if they must be wise, why did they not bum all the written
wisdom, instead of leaving it as a means of torture in the hands
of learned pedagogues, yclept schoolmasters, and as a curse on
those poor unfortunates whose noddles are not wise enough to
contain it."
" I should be very sorry if all the ancient authors were thus
annihilated," observed Herbert, looking up from his book with
a bright smile. " I should lose a great deal of enjoycaent even
now, and still more by-and-by, when I know more."
"Ay, but my dear fellow, your head is not quit* so like a
Bieve aa mine. Tours receives, contains, digests, and semis*
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. Ca
forth the matter improved by your own ideas ; but as for mine,
the matter undoubtedly enters, but rans out agMu, and only
leaves behind that wliich is too large and gross to pass through.
No, no, Bertie, your head and mine are not related even in the
twentieth degree of consanguinity, however nearly connected
their masters may be. Hush I not a word ; I have only one
line more ; what a wise man that was to be- sure, who said,
' Otiosum esse quam nihil agere ' better to he idle than doing
nothing. Don't shake your head and laugh, Emmy. Vak '
never did I say good-by so willingly. Hurrah ! mamma and
papa may come home when they like now. Cast your eye
over it Herbeit ; just tell me if it looks correct, and then vale
booka vale pens vale desk for to-night ! " He placed his
writing on his brother's open book, threw his dictionary and
grammar high in air, and dexterously caught them as they fell,
piled up his books, closed his desk, and then, with a comical
?igh of relief, flung himself fiill length on a sofa.
" Now that you have finished your task, Percy, perhaps you
wiU have the kindness to inform us why at this time of the
evening you have been writing Lalii ? " inquired Caroline.
" And open my wound afresh ! However, it is quite right
that Miss Harcourt eJiouId know that, if I am ill from pver-
Btudy to-morrow, it is her doing."
"Mine I" answensd Miss Harcourt, laughing; "pray ex-
plain yourself, young man, for I am so perfectly innocent as
not even to understand you,"
"Did you not this morning give me a message to Lady
Helen Grahame?"
" I did ; you passed her house on your way to Mr, How-
ard's."
"Weil, then, if yon had not given me the message, much as
I felt disinclined to pore over musty books and. foolscap paper,
fix)m the extreme loveliness of the momiBg, I should have nerv-
ed myself to, go straight on to the Eectory. Lady Helen was
not visible, so I tarried, believing your message of vital import-
EHice, and Annie came to me by-the-by, what a little woman
chat child is ; Emmeline, you are a baby to her. I wonder she
condescends to associate with yott,"
" I do not think she is at a!I fond of n
Wend," replied Emraehae ; "but what ca
with your Latin ? "
"A great deal for she talked and we walked, and time
walked loo, and by the !ame I had seen Lady Helen, it was
two hours later than I ought to have been with Mr. Howard,
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
54 I10:.iK INFLUENCE.
On I went, feeling not particularly oomforfable ; but though il
is clear logic that if Misa Harcourt had not sent me to Lady
Helen's I should not have been led into temptation ; I wa3
magnanimous enough not to mention her, but to lay the whola
blame of my non-appearance, on my own disinclination for any
study but that of nature. Mr. Howai'd looked grave and sor-
rowful I wish to heaven he was more hke any other sehool-
master ; tiiat look and tone of hia are worse than any rod !
and to redeem my lost time in the nioniing, I was desired to
write a Latin theme on a letter of Pliny's this evening. And
now that I have satisfied aU your inquiries, please satisfy mine.
Is there any chance of mamma's coming home to-night ? "
"Every probability," repUed Miss Harcourt. "It only
depends on your cousin, who is so very delicate, that if she
were too fatigued, Mr. Hamilton would remain at Exeter
to-night, and proceed here early to-morrow."
" Well, my little cousin, though I have not the pleasure of
knowing yOu, I hope you will be so kind as to let mamma come
on lo-ni^t, for we have been too long without her, and I long
to resign to papa his robes of office, for they sit mightily like
borrowed plumes upon me. Mamma writes of EUea and
Edward I wonder what tlfey are like ! Come, Tiay, paint
them for me your fertile fancy generally fills up the shadow
of a name."
" I cannot, Percy, for I am afraid my pictures would not be
agreeable."
" Not agreeable 1 " repeated Percy and Miss Harcourt to-
gether, " Why not ? "
Emmeline hesitated, then aDS\vered ingenuously, "We are
so very, very happy together, that I do not feel quite sure that
I am glad my cousins are going to live with us."
" What \ are yon afrw.d I shall love Ellen more than you,
Emmy ? " exelaimed her brother, starting up and sitting on her
chair; "do not be alarmed, Tiny; no cousin shall take your
place."
" Lideed I am not afraid of that, Percy, dear," she replied,
looking so fondly in hia face, that he gave her a hearty kiss.
"I camiot tell why I should feel half sorry that they are
coming, but I am quite sur^I will do all I can to make tliera
happy."
" You could not do otherwise if you were to tiy, Tiny.
Come, Carolir.e, what say you ? We have aU been l.hinking
t them, so we lany as weU give each other the benefit of
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 65
" Suppose I do not feel inclined to do so ? "
" Why we must all believe you are ashamed of them," re-
plied Percy, quickly, " and if you are, I know who has made
y ou BO. I would lay any wager, the whole time you have been
with Lady Helen Grahame, since mamma has been away, she
has been talking of nothing else look, look, ahe is blushing
I am right."
"And if slie ' did," replied Caroline, very much provoked,
" she said nothing that I am ashamed of repeating. She knew
my aunt before she went to India, and I am sure if her children
are like her, they will be no agreeable additions to our family."
" Bravo, Carohno ! you really are an apt pupil ; Lady Helen's
words and manner completely ! but you may have one comfort ;
children are not always like their parents, and if they are as
unlike Lady Helen's description of my poor auut (which by
tlie way she had no right !o give, uor yoti to listen to) as you
are at this moment unlike mamma, we siiall get on capitally,
and need have no fears about them,"
" Percy you are intolerably disagreeable ! "
" Because I speak the sad, sober truth ? Caroline, do pray,
get rid of that dawning- ill temper, before mamma comes; it
will not be a pleasant welcome home."
"I am not Ol-tempered, Percy : I suppose I may have my
own opinion of Ellen and Edward, as well as all of you," re-
plied his sister angrily.
" But do not let it be an unkind one, without knowing them,
dear Caroline," observed Herbert geuUy ; " it is so very diffi-
cult to get rid of a prejudice when once it has entered our .
minds, even when we know and feel that it is a wrong one. I
am sure if we only thought how sad it is that they have neither
father nor mother to love them, and are coming all among
strangers bom in a strange land too we should find quite
enough, to think kindly about, and leave all wonder as to what
they will he like, tiU we know them. I dare say we shall often
have to bear and forbear, but that we have to do with each
other, and it will only be one brother and sister more."
" Brother and sister 1 I am sure I sliall not tliink of them so,
Herbert, however you may. My father might have been a
nobleman, and who knows any tMog of theirs ? "
" Cardlme, how can you be so ridiculous ! " exclaimed Percy,
with a most provoking fit of laughter. " Their father served
and died for his king as onr grandfather did; and bad he
lived might have been offered a title too and their mother
really I think you are very insuiting to mamna; her sister's
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
6t! HOME mPLUENCE.
children 1 ihould imagine quite as Mgh in rank as our-
selves I "
"And even if they were not what would it signify?" re-
joined Herbert. " Dear Caroline, pray do not talk or think so ;
it makes me feel so sorry, for I know how wrong it is we
might have been in their place."
"I really cannot fancy any thing so utterly impossible,"
interrupted Caroline, "so you may spare the supposition, Her-
" It is no use, Bertie ; you must bring the antipodes together,
before you and Caroline will think alike," interposed Percf,
perceiving with regret the expression of pain on his brother^s
face, and always ready to guard him either from physical or
mental suffering, feehng instinctively that, from his exla'aordi-
nary mind and vivid sense of duty, he was liable to the latter,
fiwm many causes which other natures would pass unnoticed.
Miss Harcourt did not join the conversation. It had always
beea Mrs. Hamilton's wish that in their intercourse with each
other, her children should be as unrestr^ed as if they had
been alone. Had Caroline's sentiments received encourage-
ment, she would have interfered ; but the raillery of Percy and
the earnestness of Herbert she knew were more likely to pro-
duce an effect than any thing like a rebuke from herself, which,
would only have caused restraint befoi'e her in future. It was
though this perfect unrestraint that Mrs. Hamilton had become
so thoroughly acquainted with the several characters of her
children. That Caroline's sentiments caused her often real
pain was true, but it was far better to know them, and endeavor
to correct and remove them, by causing education to bear upon
the faults they revealed, than to find them concealed from her
by the constant fear of words of reproof.
To remove Herbert's unusual seriousness, Percy continued,
laughingly
"Miss Harcourt, what are your thoughts on this momentous
subject? It is no use askifig Herbert's, we all know them
without his telling us ; but you are almost the principally con-
cerned of the present party, for Ellen will bring you the trouble
cf another pupil."
"I shall not reg..,t it, Percy; but only shall rejoice if I can
in any way lessen your mother's increased charge. As for
what your cousins will be like, I candidly tell you I have
scarcely thought about it. I have no doubt we sliall find them
strange and shy at first; but we must do all we can to make
them tail they are no strangers.'
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOJIE INFLUENCE. 67
*And now, then, ii only remains for the right honorable me
to speak; and really Emmy and Herbert and you have lold
ray story, and left me nothing, I do not know whether I aia
pleased or cot, but I am very sorry for them ; and it will be
capital if this Master Edward turns out a lad of spirit and
mischief, and not over-learned or too fond of study one, in
fact, that I can associate with, without feeling such a painful
sensation, of inferiority as I do when in company with "ay right
reverend brother."
" Dear Percy, do not call me reverond," said Herbert, ap-
pealingly: "I feel it almost a mockery now, when I am so
very far from being worthy to become a clergyman."
" Tou are a good fellow, Bertie ; and I will not tease you, if.
I can help it but really I do not mean it for mockery ; you
know, or ought to know, that you are better now than half the
clei^men who have taken ordera, and as much superior to mc
in goodness as in talent."
" Indeed I know no such thing, Percy ; I am not nearly so
strong ia health as you are, and am therefore naturahy more
fond of quiet pleasures : and as for talent, if you were as fond
of application as of frolic, you would leave me far behind,"
"Wrong, Beriie, quite wrong! but .think of yourself as you
please, I know what everybody thinks of you. Hush ! is that
the sound of a carriage, or only the wind making love to the
old oaks ? "
" The wind making love, Percy ! " repeated Emmehne, laugh-
ing ; " I neither hear that, nor the carriage wheels kissing the
ground."
" Well done. Tiny ! my poetry is beaten boUow ; but there
there I am sure it is a carriage ! " and Percy bounded from
the table so impetuously as nearly to upset it, flung back the
curtain, and looked et^erly from the window-
Herbert closed Ills book to listen; Emmeline left her nearly-
completed map, and joined Percy; Caroline evidently tried to
resume serenity, but, too proud to evince it, industriously pur-
sued her work, breaking the thread almost every time that she
drew out the needle.
"It ia, nothing, Percy; how could yo disappoint us so?" said
Herbert, in a tone of regret.
"My good fellow, you must be deaf listen I nearer and
louder and, look there, Emmeline, through those trees, don't
you see something ghmmering? that must be the lamp of the
'NonseJise, Percy, it is a glowworm
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
68 HOME INFLUENCE.
"A glowworm 1 why, Emmeline, tke tiouglit of sei
haa blinded you. What glowworm ever came so steadi'y for-
ward? No? there ia no mistake now. Hurrah, it is the cai--
riage : here Eobert, Morris, Eliaa, all of you, to the hall I to the
ha\ll The carriage ia coming down the avenue." And witli
noisy impatience, the young gentleman ran into the hall, assem-
bled all the seryants he had named, and others too, all eager to
welcome the travellers; flnng wide back the massive door, and
he and Herbert both wore on the steps several minutes before
the carriage came in sight.
CHAPTER II.
If more than the preceding conversation were needed to re-
veal the confidence and love with which Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton
wei'e regarded by their children, tlie delight, the unreatrained
expressions of affection, with which by every one of the young
party they were received, would have evinced it still more
clearly. Herbert was very speedily on his favorite seat, a low
stool at his mother's feet. EmmeUne, for that one half hour at
least, assumed her sti!l unresigned privilege, as the youngest
and tiniest, to quietly slip in her lap ; Percy was talking to Ma
father, making Edward perfectly at home, saying many kind
words to Ellen, and caressing his mother, all almost at the same
moment. Carohne was close to her father, with her arm round
his neck ; and Miss Harcourt was kindly disi'obing Ellen from
her many wraps, and making her lie quietly on a sofa near her
aunt ; who, even in that moment of delightful reunion with her
own, had yet time and thought, by a few judidous' words, to
remove the undefinable, but painful sensation of ' loncline^,
which was creeping over the poor child as she gaaed oh her
bright, happy-looking cousins ; and thought if to her own mo-
ther Jidward's beauty and happiness had made him sc much
more beloved than herself, what claim could she' have m her
aunt? Ellen could not have said that such were the thoughts
that a led. her eyes with tears, and made her heart so heavy;
Krti^ only knen that much as she had loved her aunt during (he
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME ISFLUENCE. 69
journey, her kisa and kind words at tliat moment made her love
her more than eyer.
Never had there been a happier mea! at Oakwood than the
substantial tea which was speedily ready for the travellers. 80
much was there to hear and tell; Percy's wUd sallies; Cfjo-
line's animated replies (she tad now quite recovered her tem-
per) ; Herbert's gentle care of Ellen, by whom he had stationed
himself (even giving up to her bis usual seat by bis mother) ;
Emmeline's half shy, half eager, efforts to talk to her fiousins j
Mr. and Mrs. Hamihon's earnest interest, all combined, long
before the meal was concluded, to make Edward feel perfectly
at liis ease, and very happy, and greatly to remove Jlllen's un-
i dread. The time passed so quickly, that there
I general start when the prayer bell sounded, though it
was nearly two hours after the usual time.
"Are you prepared for to-night, my boy?" Mr. Hamilton
asked of Herbert^ as they rose to adjourn to the library, where,
morning and evening, it had been the custom of the Hareiiltoa
family for many generaliona, to assemble their whole household
for family devotion.
"Tes, papa; I was not quite sure whether you would arrive
to-night."
"Then I will not resume my office till to-morrow, Herbert,
that I may have the gratificaiion of healing you officiate," replied
his father, linking his son's arm in his, and affectionately glanc-
ing on the bright blush that rose to the boy's cheek.
There was a peculiar sweetness in Herbert Hamilton's vcice,
even in spcating; and as he read the service of the lessons for
the evening, adding one or two brief esplanafiona when neces-
sary, and more especially when reading, or rather praying, the
beautiful petitions appropriated to family worship, there was an
earnest solemnity of tone and manner, presenting a strange
contrast, yet beautjiul, combining with the boyish form and
youthful face, on which the lamp, suspended over the reading-
desk, shed such a soft and holy light. The occasional prayer
which was added to the usual evening service, was always cho-
sen by the reader; and Mr. and Mrs. HamOton were surprised
and affected at the earnestness with which their almost angel
)oy selected and read over one peculiarly bearing on the events
cf that evening ; the introduction of their orphan relatives, for
compassion and blessing on them, and grace for increased kind-
ness and forbearance in their intercourse with one anothei
Miss Harcourt, his brother and sisters, knew well to what hi"
liUuded, and all but one responded with earnestness and truth
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
70 HOME INFLUENCE.
Caroline could not enter into Herbert's feelings even at that
moment : it was a great effort even to preyent a feeling of irri-
tation, believing tliat he directly poloted at her, and determin-
ing that as neiUier ho nor any one else had any riglit to inter-
fere with her private thotighta, and that they could do hai'm
to none while confined (o her own breast, she resolved not to
overcome them, and so could not join with any fervor in the
prayer.
To Edward all was strange. "While the graces of his body
wid mind had been most sedulously cultivated, ho had never
been taught even the public ordinances of religion, much less
its inward spirit. His mother had ofien and often felt a pang
of reproach, at thus neglecting that which an inward voice
would whisper was most essential ; but she was wont to silence
the pang by the determined idea, that she was neither worthj
nor able to give him such solemn lessons, and that it would
come by instinct to hint in after years. There was time enough
for him to think of such things. He had been now and then to
church, but it was a mere form, regarded as a weary duty, from
which he escaped whenever he could. The present scene, then,
completely bewildered him. He had always fancied himself
superior to any of the boys he had associated with ; but as he
looked at and listened to Herbert, who seemed at most only two
years older than himself, he became sensible of a very strange
and disagreeable, but a very decided feeling of inferiority ; and
then, too, it was so incomprehensible, the servants all joining
them, a class of people whom in India he had been taught so to
consider his inferiors, that even to speak with them was a spe-
cies of degradation ; and he was destined to be still more sur-
prised, for before they left the library, he heard his aunt and
uncle address them all, and say a few kind words, and make
inquiries after their families to each.
To EUen that evenmg service recalled some of Mr. Myrvin's
instructions, and seemed to help her to realize those new
thoughts and feelings, which she had learned, for the first time,
in Wales. Her father had, indeed, the last year of his life tried
lo give her some ideas of reli^on; but living only so very
lately begun to think seriously himself, he felt diffident and un-
certtun of his own powers, and so left an impression more of
awe toward the subject than of love, which to adispositicrt such
as Ellen's was unfortunate.
A very short lime sufficed for Percy and Emmeline U intro-
duce their cousins to all the delights and mysteries of their dear
jid home ; and Oakwood Hall was really a place for ima^na-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLOEKCK. 71
tlon to revel in. It was a lafge castellated maiisioii, frau^'hl
with botti the associations of the past, and the comforts of the
present. The injuries whicfi the original mansion had I'eceived
during the civil war of Charles I., had, when the family returned
at the Restoration, caused much of the old house to be pulled
down, and replaced with larger rooms, and greater conven-
iences for a modem dwelling-house, retaining, however, quite
sufficient of the past to throw interest around it.
The wings were still Hanked witji turrets, which were Percy's
and Emmehne's delight ; and the many stair-cases, leading into
aU sorts of nooks and corners and the small and most un-
comfortable rooms, because some of them happened to be hung
with tapestry, and tad those small narrow windows sunk in
deep recesses were pronounced by both far more enjoyable
than the beautiful suit of rooms forming the centre of the man-
sion, and the dwelling of the family. These were only saved
from being disagreeably modem Percy would declai'o by
their beautiful richly-polished oaken panels, and by the recesses
which the large windows still formed, making almost a room by
themselves. The hall, too, with its superb sweep, of staircase
and broad carved oaken balustrade, leading to a gallery above,
which opened on the several sleeping apartments, and thus per-
mitting the fuU height of the mansion, from base to roof, to be
visible from the hall. The doors visible in the gallery opened
mostly ou dressing-rooms, or private sitting-rooms, which led to
die large, airy sleeping-rooms, to which the servants had access
by back ataircaaes leading from their ha31; and so leaving the
oaien staircase and gallery entirely U the use of the family,
and of many a game of noisy play had that gallery been the
scene. There had been a beautiful little chapel adjoining the
mansion, but it was mercilessly burned to the ground by the in-
fatuated Puritans, and never restored ; the venerable old church
of the village henceforth serving the family of the hall.
Situated on the banks of the Dart, whose serpentine wind-
ings gave it the appearance of a succession of most lovely lakes.
Nature had been so lavish of her beauties in the garden and
park, especially in the magnificent growth of the superb oaks,
from which the estate took its name, that it was not much won-
der Mrs. Hamilton, always an intense lover of nature, should
have become so attached to her home, as never to feel the least
inclination to leave it. She did not wish her girls to visit Lon-
don till a few months before Caroline was old enough to be in-
troduced, to give them then finishing masters ; and to that time
dit: of vurse always looked, as demanding from her part of the
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
72 HOME INFLUEKca.
yew to be spent in town. The cireer of Eleanor, the recollec-
tions of the frivolity and ciTor into which her own early youlh
had been thrown, had given her not only a distaste, but an act-
ual dread of London for her girls, tiU such principles and asso-
ciations had been instilled which would enable them to pass
through the ordeal of successive seasons without any change of
character or feeling. Her sons, since their tenth year, had
more tiian once accompanied their father to the metropolis ; but
though these visits were always sources of enjoyment, espe-
cially to Percy, they never failed to return with unabated
affection to their home, and to declare there was no place in
England like it,
Mr. Hamilton, though in neither profession nor business, was
fai from being an idle man. His own estate was siiiSciently
large, and contained a sufficient number of dependents, for
whose mortal and immoi-tal welfare he was responsible, to give
him much employment ; and in addition to this, the home inter-
ests and various aspects of his country were so strongly en-
twined with his veiy being that, though always i-efusing to
enter Parliament, he was the prompter andencouragerof many
apolitical moYemeat, having for its object amelioration of the
poor, and improvement of the whole social system ; closely con-
Qeclod with which, as he was, they gave him neither public
fame nor private emolument. He acted in all things from the
same single-hearted integrity and high honor which caused him
to refuse the title proffered to his father. Her husband's con-
nection with many celebrated characters, and her own corres-
pondence, and occasional visits from her friends to Oakwood,
prevented Mrs. Hamilton's interest from too complete concen-
tration in' hei" home, as, in her fii-st retirement, many fcai'cd.
She had, too, some friends near her, whose society gave her
both pleasure and interest ; and many acquaintances who would
have visited more than she felt any inclination for, had she not
had the happy power of quietly pursuing her own path,and yet
concihating all.
The Kev, William Howard had accepted Mr. Hamilton's
eagerly-proffered invitation to become his rector, and undertake
the education of liis boys, from very peculiar circumstances.
He had been minister of a favorite church in one of the south-
ern towns, and master of an establisimient for youths of high
rank, in both which capacities he had given universal satisfac-
tion. The reprehensible conduct of some of his pupils, canied
on at first so secretly as to elude his knowledge, at length be-
came so notorious as to demand examination. He had at first
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME ISFLUESCE. "J
refused all credence, but when proved, by tlie confused replies
of a 1], and half confession of some, he briefly and emphaticaOy
laid before them the enormity of their conduct, and declared
that, as confidence was entirely broken between them, he would
resign the honor of their education, refusing to admit them any
longer as members of his establishment. la vain the young
men implored him to spare them the disgrace of such an ex-
polsioD ; he was inexorable.
This conduct, in itself so upright, was psunted by the smart-
ing ofienders in such colors, that Mr. Howard gradually but
surely found his school abandoned, and himself so misrepre-
sented, that a spirit less self-possessed and secure in its own
integrity must have sunk beneath it. But he had some true
friends, and none more active and earnest than Mr. Hamilton.
A very brief residence at Oakwood Kectoi-y removed even the
i-ecollection of the injustice he had experienced ; and he him-
self, as pastor and .friend, proved a treasure to high and low.
Ten other youths, sons of the neighboring gentry, became his
pupils, theii- fathers gladly following in W&. Hamilton's lead.
About a mile and a hatf across the park was Moorlands, the
residence of Lady Helen Grahame, whose name had been sg
often mentioned by the young Hamiltons. Her husband Mont-
rose Grahame, had been Arthur Hamilton's earliest friend, al
home, at college, and in manhood. Lady Helen the youngest
daughter of a marquis, had been intimate with Emineline and
Eleanor Manvers from childhood, and had always admired and
wished to resemble the former, but always failed, she beheved,
from being constituted so differently ; others might have thought
from her utter want of enei^ and mental strength. The mar-
rii^e at first appeared likely to be a happy one, but it was foe
soon proved the contrary. Grahame was a man of strict, per-
haps severe principles ; his wife, though she never did any
thing morally wrong, scarcely knew the meaning of the word.
Provoked with himself for his want of discrimination, in ima-
gining Lady Helen so different to the being she really was ;
mora than once discovering that she did not speak the exact
truth, or act with the steady uprightness he demanded, his
miajmer became almost austere ; and, in consequence, becom-
ing more and more a&aid of him, Lady Helen sunk lower and
lower in his esteem.
Two girls and a boy were the fruits of this union. Lady
Helen had made a great many ex eellent resolutions with regard
to their rearing and education, which she eagerly confided to
Mrs. Htmiilton, but when the tine of trial came, weakness and
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
r* HOME INFLUENCE.
false indulgence eo predominated, tlitit Grahame, to counteraul
these evil influences, adopted a eontrary extreme, and, by a
eystem of constant reserve and Beyerity, became an object of as
much teiTor to liia chiJ'^en as he was to his wife. But he did
not pursue this conauct without pajn, and never did he visit
Oakwood witliout bitter regret that his home was not the same.
Mr, and Mrs, Hamilton had often tried to alter the aspect of
affairs at Moorlands 5 the former, by entreating Grahame to be
less severe ; the latter, by urging Lady Helen to a firmer mode
of conduct. But those friendly efforts were as yet entirely
useless. Graliame became a member of Pai-liament, which
took his family to London for five or six months in the year
a particularly agreeable change to Lady Helen, who then asso-
dated with her sisters, whose families were conducted much on
the same fashion as her own, but unfortunately only increasing
the discomfort of Moorlands when they returned to it. And
this was the more to be regretted, from the fact that both Gra^
hame and his wife were fuU of good intentions, and had the
one been more yielding, and the other more firm, there might
have been no small share of happiness for both.
But heavy as Lady Helen thought her trial in the want of
her husband's confi:dence and love, and which she had greatly
brought upon herself, it was light in comparison with that of
Mrs. Greville, another near neighbor and valued friend of
Mrs. Hamilton. She had loved and married a man whose
winning manners and appearance, and an ever-varying flow of
intelligent conversation, had completely concealed, lil] too latt,
his resi character. Left at a veiy eaily age his own master,
with a capital estate and laige fortune; educated at a very
large public school, at which he Icamud literally nothing but
vice, and how effectually to conceal it , courted and flattered
wherever he went, ho became v-un, oierhearing, and extrava-
gant ; with no pursuit but that of gambling in aU its varieties,
even hunting and shooting could not be thoroughly enjoyed
without some large bets depending on the day's sport: his
thoughts from boyhood were so completely centred in self,
that he had affection for nothing else. Ho had indeed fancied
he loved Jessie Summers, when he had so successfully wooed
her; but the illusion was speedily dispelled, and repeatedly he
cursed his foUy for plaguing himself with a wife. His first
child, too, was a gii-1 and that annoyed him still m we ; and
when, the nest year, a boy was granted, he ceiliiinly rejoiced,
but it was such rejoicing as to fill his wife's heart with An agony
of di'ead ; for he swore he would make his boy as jovial a
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
IIOMK INFLUENCE. 0
spirit as himseF, and that her nambj-paraby ideas should Lave
nothing to do with him.
It was indeed a difficult and painful task Mrs. Greville had
to perform. Though her husband would spend weeks and even
months at a time away, the impressiooB she so earnestly and
prayerfully sought to instil into her son's heart were, or appear-
ed to be, completely destroyed by her husband's interference
the whole time of his sojoura at hb home. It was his pleasure
to thwart her every plan, laugh at her fine notions, make a
mockery of all that was good, and holy, and self-denying ; and
all in the presence of his children ; succeeding in mating
Alfred frequently guilty of disrespect and unkjndness, but fail-
ing entirely with Mary, who, though of such a fragile franie
and gentle spirit that her father's visits almost always caused
her a fit of illness, so idolized her suffering but never-murmur-
ing mother, that she only redoubled her attention and respect
whenever she saw her more tried than usual. This conduct,
of course, only made her an object, equally with her moth'^r,
of her father's sneers and taunts, but she bore it with the true
spirit of a martyr. Suffering was doing for her what Herbert
Hamilton was naturally making her spiritual and thoughtful
far beyond her yeare, and drawing her and Herbert together
with such a bond of mutual reverence and sjTnpathy, that to
talk to him was her greatest consolation, and to endeavor to
lessen her sorrows one of lua dearest pleasures.
Alfred was not naturally an evil-disposed boy, and, when his
father was fi-om home, seldom failed either in respect or obedi-
ence. Mrs, Greville possessed the rather rare combination of
extreme submissiveness with a natural dignity and firmness,
which enabled her to retain the reverence and sympathy of her
friends and her household, without once stopping to receive
their pity. It was generally supposed, by those who did not
know her personally, tliat she was one of those too soft and
self-denying characters who bring on themselves the ctjIs they
deplore ; but this in Mrs. G-reville's case was a very great nua-
take. It was impossible to associate even casually vrith her,
without feeling intuitively that she suffered deeply, but the
emotion such conviction called was respect alone.
As anxious and as earnest a parent as Mrs. Hamilton her-
self, Mrs. Greville failed not to inculcate the good in both her
children, and still more forcibly, when they became old enough
to observe, by example than by precept. But with Alfred
there must have been an utter hopelessness as to the fruit of her
anxious labors, had shenot possessed that clinging, single-heart-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
76 HOME MFLTIEiSCE.
ed troEt which, taught her that no difficulty should deter from a
simple duty, and that nothing was too hard for Him who if
He saw that she shrunk not fi-om the charge and responsibility
which, in permitting her to become a motlier, he had given, and
did all she could to counteract those evil influences, for the re-
moval of which she had no power would, in His own good
time, reward, if not on earth with Him in Heaven ; and i")
untiringly, as unmurmuringly, she struggled on.
CHAPTER IIL
HOME SCENE. TISIT0E3. CHILDISH MEDITATIONS.
The part of the day which, to Emmeline Hamilton was the
happiest of all, was that m which she and Caroline, and now, of
course, Ellen, were with their mother alone. Kot that she
parlJcuIarly hked the very quiet employment of plain work,
which was then their usual occupation, but that she could talk
without the least restr^nt either about her lessons, or her plea-
sures, or her thoughts, and the stories or histories she had been
reading, and if she thought wrong no one ever con-ected her so
delightfully, so impressiyely aa "niamma." The mornings,
from three to four houi, according as their age and studies re-
quired, were always under the control of Miss Harcourt, with
such visits from Mrs. Hamilton as gave an increased interest
to exertion, and such interruption only as permitted their prac-
tice and lessons in music, which three times a week Mrs. Ha-
milton had as yet herself bestowed. The dressing-bell always
rung at. half-past three, and dinner was at four, to aUow the
lads' return from Mr. Howard's, whose daily lessons commenced
at nine and concluded at three. From Wf-past one to half-
past three, in the very short days, was devoted to recreation,
walking, or driving, and in the longer, to Emmeime's favorite
time an hour at work with her mother, and the remainder
to the preparation of lessons and exercises for the nest day,
which in the winter occupied from five to six. From six to
seven in the same generally gloomy season they read aloud
some entertaining book withtheir mother and Miss Harcourt,
and seven was the delightful hour of a general reunion at tea
and signal for sucli recreation till nine as they felt inclined for;
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 37
thtii bujthers having been employed for Mr. Howard part of
the time betireen dinner and tea, with sufficient earnestness to
enjoy the rest and recreation afterward, quite as buoyantly and
gladly as their siaiers ; and many a merry dance enlivened their
winter evenings.
In the summer, of course, this daily routine was fi^quently
varied by most delightful excursions in the country. Mrs.
Hamilton earnestly longing to implant a love of Nature and aU
its fresh, pnre associations in the minds of her children while
3-et young, knowing that once obtained, the pleasures of the
world would be far less hkely to obtain too powerful dominion.
That which the world often terms romance, she felt to be a
h^h, pure sense of poetry in the Universe and in Man, which
she was quite as anxious to instil as many mothers to root out.
She did not believe that to cultivate the spiritual needed the
banishment of the matter of fiwt ; but she believed, that to
infuse the latter with the former would be their best and surest
preventive against all that was low and mean ; their best help
iu the reaUzation of a constant unfailing piety. For the same
reason she cultivated a taste for the beautiful, not only in her
girls, but in her boys and beauty, not in arts and nature
alone, but in character. She did not allude to beauty of merely
the high and striking kind, but to the lowly virtues, etru^les,
faith, and heroism in the poor their forbearance and kindie^
to one another marking something to admire, even in the
most rugged and surly, that at first sight would seem so little
worthy of notice. It was gradually, and almost unconsciously,
to accustom her daughters to such a train of thought and senti-
ment, that she bo particularly laid aside one part of the day to
have them with her alone ; ostensibly, it was to give part of
their day to working for the many poor, to whom gifts of ready-
made clothing are sometimes much more valuable than money ;
but the education of that one hour she knew might, for the
right cultivation of the heart, do more than the mere teaching
of five or sis, and that educatioji, much as she loved and valued
Miss Harcourt, she had from lie first resolved should come
from her alone.
To Emmeline this mode of life was so happy, she could not
imagine any thing happier. But Caroline often and often
envied her great friend Annie Grahame, and believed that
occasional visits to London would make her much happier than
remaimng all the year round at Oakwood, and on' y with her
own family. She knew the expression of such sentiments
would meet no sympathy at home, and certainly not obtain
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
(8 HOME INFLUENdE.
their graiiflcation, so she ti-ied to check Ihem, except when in
company with Annie and Lady Helen ; but her mother knsw
them, and, from tlie discontent and unhappiness they bo often
(ingendered in her child, caused her botli pain and uneasiness,
But she did not waver in her plans, because only in Emmeline
they seemed to succeed : nor did she, as perhaps some over-
scrupulo'ja mothers would have done, check Carohne's associa-
tion with MisB Grahame. She knew that those principles must
be indeed of little worth, which could only actuate ia retire-
ment, and when free from temptation. That to prevent inti-
macy with all, except with those of whom she exactly approved,
would be impossible, if she ever meant her daughters to enter
the world; and therefore she endeavored so to obtain their
unrestrained confidence and affection, as to be regarded, both
now and when they were young women, as their first, best, and
truest friend; and that end obtained, intimacies with their
young companions, however varied their chai'acter, she felt
would do DO permanent harm.
" Dear, dear mamma ! " exclaimed Emmeline, one morning
about a week after her parents' return, and dropping her work
to speak more eagerly, "you cannot think how delightfuE it
does seem to have you at home again ; I missed this hour of
the day so very much ; I did not know how much I loved it
when I always had it, but when you were away, every time
the hour came I missed you, and longed foryou so much that
I am afraid you will think me very siUy I could not help
crying."
" Why, how Percy must have laughed at you, Emmy 1 "
" Indeed, he did not, mamma ; I think he felt half inclined
(o cry too, the first day or two that he came home from Mr.
Howard's, and could not rush up into your dressing-room, as he
always does. He said it was a very different thing for you to
go fi-om home, than for him to go to London, and he did not
like it at all; nor Herbert, nor Caroline, neither ; though they
did not say so much about it."
" I did not miss mamma after the first, quite so much as you
did, Emmeline," replied her sister, ingenuously; "because
when Lady Helen returned from London, she made me go
tliere so often, and as I know you never refuse me that hidul-
gence, mamma, and Miss Hafcourt did not object, I was glad
"I have only one objection, my dear Caroline, .'ind I ', tink
you know what that is."
*'That whenever I am with Annie I think and wiah ronre
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 79
sAoiit going to London, mamma ; I am afraid I do ; butimleed
I tfy to think that you must know what is better for me, and
try not to be discontented, though. Bometimes I know I do not
eucceed," and her eyes filled with tears.
"I am satisfied that you endeavor to trust my experience,
my love ; I am quite aware of all the difficulties you have to
encounter in doing so, and therefore your most tiifiing conquest
of self is a great source of comfort to me. I myself should feel
that the pain of increased discontent, and so of course increased
difficulty in conquering its constant accompaniment, ill temper,
would more than balance the pleasure of Annie's society, and
BO not indulge in the one so often at the eipense of the other ;
but of that you are yourself the hest judge, and you know in
Buch a case I always permit you to be a free agent. But what
has hecome of Mary, Emmeline ? I begged Mrs. Greville to
let you be as much together as possible during my abseice ;
did not her society afford you some pleasure ? "
" Oh, yes, mamma, a great deal ; but unfortunately Mr. Gre-
ville was at home almost all the time you were away, and poor
Mary could not often leave her mother, and I don't feel as if it
were quite right for me to go so Often there, when he is at
home. I am sure Mrs. Greville and Mary must both feel still
more uncomfortable when any one is there to see how unkind
he is, and hear the cruel things he says. Oh, how I do ^Msh I
could make poor Mary more happy ! "
" She would tell you that affection is a great comloi t to her
Emmy."
" Tours and Herbert's may be, mamma, beci ise you are
fcoth so much better and wiser tlian I am ; but I can do so
littHe, so very little."
"You can be and are a great source of interest to her my
dear ; and when we wish very much to make anothet person
happy, you may be quite sure that the most (nflmg act gives
pleasure ; but Ellen looks very much as if she would liie to
know who this Mary is, that is so tried suppose you tell her."
Emmeline eagerly obeyed, painting her friend in such glow-
ing colors, that EUen felt, however tried she might be, a person
BO good and holy must be happy, notwithstanding ; besides, to
be loved so by Mrs. Hamilton and Herbert, discovered to her
mind such superior qualities, that she almost wondered how
Emmeliiii could speak of her so familiarly, and think of her as
her own particular friend. But the conversation on her, and
then on ;ther topics, so interested her, that she was almost as
Borry as her cousin, when it was interrupted by a visit from
Lady Helen Grahame and her daughter.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
80 HOME INFLUENCE.
" Eetumed at length, dearest Emmeliae ! " was tie former'a
lively greeting, and evincing far more warmtli of manner than
was usual to her. " Do you know, the banks of the Dart have
seemed so desolate without their guardian spirit, that the very
flowers have hung their heads, and the trees are withered ? "
"I rather think the change of season, and not my absence,
has been the cause of these melancholy facta,'' replied Mrs.
Hamilton, in the same tone ; " but even Londoa will not change
your kind thoughts for me, Helen."
" Nay, I must follow the example of my neighbors, rich and
poor, whom you may appeal to as to the fact of your absence
causing terrible lamentation ; ask this naughty little girl loo,
who scarcely ever came to see me, because she had so many
things to do to please mamma ; but forgive me," she added,
more seriously, as she glanced on the deep mourning of her
friend, and indeed of all the group ; " what a cold, heartless
being you must beHeve me to run on in this way, wheu there,
has been so sad a cause for your absence poor Eleanor ! "
" I trust we may say happy Eleanor, my dear Helen ; mercy
has indeed been shown to her and to me but we will talk of
this another time. Annie," she continued, addressing Miss
Grahame, who was already deep in conversation with Caro-
line, "I have another little girl to introduce to you, whom I
hope you will be as friendly with as with Caroline and Emme-
Tlie young lady turned round at the words, but her sole no-
tice of EUen, who had come timidly forward, was a haughty
stare, a fashionable courtesy, and a few unintelligible words,
which caused Emmeline to fee! so indignant, that it was witii
dif&culty she kept silence, and made Ellen so uncomfortable,
that it was with even more than her usual shyness, she received
Lady Helen's proffered hand.
"And why not introduce her to me too, Emmeline? I knew
your mother when she was little older than you are, my dear ;
80 I hope you will learn to know and to like me as fast as you
can."
EUen might have found courage to reply for there was an
interest attached to all who had known her mother ; but as she
raised her eyes to speak, she again encountered Annie's rude
and disagreeable stare, and the words died on her lips. The
;oung party were, however, soon all in the garden, for Mrs.
Jamilton never made any scruple in dismissing her children,
when sho wished to speak on subjects she did not c loose them
to hear ; and she was anxious so to relate Eieanor'f illness and
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME ffiFLUENCE. 81
cl/ange of sentiment, as to remove the impressions which, hex
enrly career had left on Lady Helen's memory.
"It must be nearly time for my brothers, to be returning!
shall we go and look lor them, Ellen? I dare say Edwai'd will
have a great deal to tel! you," was Emmeline'a affectionate ad-
dress, aa Annie and Carohne turned in a different direction;
ami generally judging others hy herself, she thought that being
Edward's first day of regular attendance on Mr. Howard, Ellen
would like to know all about it as soon as possible, and they
proceeded accordingly.
" Well, how do you like your new cousins, what are they
like?" inquired Mks Grahaine, tlie moment she had Caroline
entirely to herself.
"Edward I think I may like very much; he is so affeciionate
and so good-natured, and as merry and fuU of fua as Percy.
And he is so handsome, Annie, I think even you would admire
"Tlien altogether he must be very unlike his sister. Inever
saw a girl so plain, and I am sure she looks as if no fun could
esist near her."
"Mamma says we must remember how short a time has
elapsed since poor aunt's death, and also that EUen is not strong
enough to be very lively."
"That does not at all account for Ler looking cross. I am
sure she has nothing to be ill-tempered about ; there are few
giris in her situation who would have made one of your family,
as she wiE be. Mamma said it would be a very anxious thing
for Mrs. Hamilton."
"Mamma did seem to think so," replied Caroline, thought-
fully; "but I fancy you are wrong, Annie. Ellen has not yet
given any proof of iU-temper."
"She has had no time, my dear; but no one can be deceived
by such a face. My cousin. Lady Adelaide Maldon, told me
she could always judge people by their faces. But do you like
her as well as her brother, Caroline ? "
"Ask me that question this day month, my dear Annie ; I can
not answer you now, for I really do not know. I certainly do
not see any thing particularly striking in her yet I do not im-
derstand her ; she is so dreadfully shy or timid, and so very in-
animate, one cannot tell whether she is pleased or sorry. To
tell you the real truth, I am afraid I shall not like her."
"Why afmd?"
"Because mamma would be so sorry were she to know it I
know she wishes us to 'flve one another "
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
82 HOME INFLUENCE.
"Nonsense, Caroline. Mrs. Hamilton cannot be sc mirea-
McnabJe as to expect you to love everybody alike."
"Mamma 13 never unreasonable," replied Carolir.e, with
Bjirit; " and I do wisL, Annie, yon would treat EUen exactly
as you do us."
"Indeed, I shall not. "Wliat is Colonel Fortesoue's daughter
to me ? Wow don't be angry, Caroline, you and I are too old
friends to quarrel for nothing; I shall certainly hate Ellen alto-
gether, if she is to be a subject of dispute. Come, look kind
again;" and the caress, with which she concluded, restored
Caroline's serenity, and other subjects were dbcussed between
tliem.
Annie Grahame was a few months younger than Caroline
Hamilton, (who was nearly thirteen,) but fi-om having been
emancipated from the nursery and school-room at a very early
age, and made her mother's companion and confidant in all her
home vexations very pretty and enga^g -r- she was very
much noticed, and her visits to her titled relations in London,
by causing her to imitate their fashionable manners, terms of
speech, thoughts on dress, and rank, fee, made her a woman
many yeaj^ before her time ; and though to Lady Helen's family
and to Lady Helen herself this made her still more agreeable,
from becoming so very companionable ; to Mrs. Hamilton, and
to all, in fact, who loved ciuldhood for childhood's sake, it was
a source of real regret, as banishing all the freshness and art-
lessness and warmth which ought to have been the charactoris-
tics of her age. Her father was tte only one of her own family
who did not admire and so tried to check this assumption
of fine ladyism, on the part of his daughter; but it was not
likely he could succeed, and he only estranged from him the
affections of his child.
Annie Grahame had a great many fashionable aoquaintancea
in London, but she still regarded Caroline Hamilton as her fa-
vorito friend. Why, she could not exactly toll, except that it
was so very, very delightful to have some one in the country to
whom she could dilato on all the pleasures of London, display
her new di-esses, new music, drawings, work, &c. (not however
considering it at all necessary to mention that her work and
drawings were only half her own, and Caroline was much too
truthful herself to imagine it, and her mother too anxious to re-
fain that guileless simplicity to enlighten her, as she was well
capable of doing.) Annie's quick eye discovered that at such
limes Caroline certainly envied her, and she imt^ined she must
be a pel son of infinito conaequenco to excite such a feeling, and
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
SOME INFLUENCE. 83
diia was such a pleasant sensation, that she sought Caroline as
much as pohsiblo during their stay at Moorlands. Of Mis.
Hamilton, indeed, she stood in such uncomfortable awe, though
that lady never addressed her excpt in kindness, that as she
grew older, it actually became dislike ; but this only increased
her intimacy with Caroline, whom she had determined should
be as unlike her mother as possible; and as this fnendship was
the only one of his' daughter's sentiments which gave Mt. Gra-
liame unmixed satisfaction, he encouraged it by bringing Ihem
wgether as often as he could,
Emmehne and Ellen, meanwhile, bad puisued their walk ii
sitence, both engrossed with their own thoughts (for that child
ren of eleven years, indeed of any age do not think because
when asked what they are thinking about their inswei i& mva
riably "Nothing," is one of those mistaken notioii which
modem education is, we hope, exploding) Emmeline was so
indignant with Annie that she felt more sure than eier thit
she did not and could never like her. She is alwiyt talking,
of things mamma says are of such Utile contequonce anl is so
proud and contemptuous, and I am afraid she does n t alwaj i
tell the exact truth. I wonder if it is wiong to feel so towird
her ; one day when I am quite alone with mamma I tv ill lak
her," was the tenor of her meditations
But Ellen, though Annie's greeting had caused hei fo shiink
still more into hei-self, and so produced pain was not thinking
only of her. The whole of that hours mtunate association
with MrS' Hamilton had puzzled her she had doted on her
father she was sure she loved her aunt almost as dearly but
could she ever have given words to that aflcction as Emmeline
had done, and as Edward always did ? and so perhaps ailer
all, she did not feel as they did, though the wish was so strong
to caress her aunt, and sit as cliae and lovingly by her as Her
bert and Emmehne and even Edward did that its very mdul
gence seemed to give her pain. Then Carohne s confession
too could fihe ever have had courage to conf ^s the inlul
gence of a feeling which she knew to be wrong dnd all her
aunt had said both to Caroline and Emmehne o fa!.tem,d i n
her mind as to make her head ache, and ..he quite started when
a loud shout sounded near them,
"It is only Percy," said Emmeline laugliing; I dare say he
Bnd Edward are running a race or having some sort of fun."
And so they were ; laughing, shouting, panting, they came full
speed, darting in and out the trees in every variety of mathe-
matii'al figure their ingenuity coidd frame; but as soon ai-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
84 HOME INFLUENCE
Percy's rcstlesa eye discovered Eicmeline, lie directed las
course toward her, escJwmiiig, "Holla, Edward^ stop rttnning
fur to-day ; come here, and let us be sober. Why, Tiny, what
brings you and Ellen out now ? It is not your usual time."
" Eilen, EUen, I have had such a happy day ; I like Mr.
Howard more than ever (he had only seen him twice before.)
I am sure I shall get on with him, and he will teach me astro-
nomy and navigation too, so I shall not be ashamed to go to sea
nest year ; I shall ieam so much first."
" Ivct me walk home with you, dear Edward, and do tell me
every thing you have done and are going to do," asked Ellen,
clinging to his arm, and looking in his face with such an expres-
sion that there was little trace of ill-temper. Emmeline mean-
while had made her brother a party in her indignation against
Annie's pride, which he termed insolence, vowing he would
make her feel it. And as they came in sight of her and Caro-
line, be called out to Ellen, who, all her timidity returning,
tried to draw Edward into another walk.
"Not there, not there, Miss Nelly, you are not going to cut
me in that fashion. Tou have talked quite enough to Edward
and must now come to me. Edward, there's mamma ; off with
you to tell your tale of delightto her." And Edward did not
wait a second bidding, leaving Ellen to Percy, who threw
his arm affectionately round her, and began talking to her so
amusingly that she could not help laughing, and so devoted did
he appear to her, that he had only time to gi'oet Miss Grahame,
with a very marked and pohte bow, and passed on. Hewislied
to provoke, and he succeeded, for Annie was always particularly
pleased when the handsome, spirited Percy Hamilton paid her
any attention, and tliat he should be so devoted to his little
pale, disagreeable-looking cousin, as not even to give her a
word, annoyed her as much as he desired.
Edward's hasty progress to his aunt was slightly checked
at seeing a stranger with her, but when he was introduced
he made his bow with so much of his mother's grace, that,
combined with the extraordinary likeness, and her feelings
already interested in Mrs. HamOton's account of her sister's
sufferings and death, Lady Helen could not for the moment
bpeak except to exclaim, " Oh, how that look recalls the past I
I could almost fancy poor Eleanor herself stood before me."
"Did you did you know my mother, madam?" said Ed-
ward, with so much eagerness that his cheeks crimsoned and
his voice trembled. "Were you one of mamma's" but he
could not finish the sentence, and leaning his head against hia
aunt, he buret into tears.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 86
" Poor cLild ! " said Lady Helen pityingly, as Mi-s. Hamil-
ton pressed Mm closer to her, and stocped down to kiaa hia
forehead without speaking ; and that sadden and unexpected dis-
play of feeling contrasted with Ellen's painful shyness, stamped
at once and indelibly Lady Helen's opinion of the two orpliana.
CHAPTEH rV.
VARIETIES.
A TEW days more brought Mrs. Greviile and Mary to well-
come their friends, and Ellen had ag^ the pain of being
introduced to strangera ; but this time it was only the pain of
her own shyness, for could she have overcome that feeEng, she
might have felt even pleasure. As it was, the gentle voice and
maimer with which Mrs, Greviile addressed her, and the timid,
yet expressive glance of Mary told of euch sympathy and kind-
ness, Uiat she felt attracted toward both, and could quite enter
into Emmeline's enthusiastic admiration of her friend ; not,
however, believing it possible that she herself could ever be
worthy to win Mary's regard. Taught from such a very early
age to believe herself so far inferior to Edward, such characters
as Herbert and Mary appeared to her so exalted, that it was
quite impossible they could ever think of her; the constant
little acta of unobtrusive kindness that her cousin showed her,
she attributed to his extreme goodness, not from the most
trifling merit in herself. She did indeed love him very dearly,
the best next to her aunt ; but so much of reverence mingled
with it, that she was almost more reserved with him than with
the others. But Herbert was naturally reserved himself in
words, and so he did not think any thing about it, except to
wish and endeavor to make his little cousin happier than she
seemed.
When contrasting Mary Greviile with Annie Grahame, as
she was rather fond of doing, Emmeline became so afraid she
was disliking the latter more than she ought to ds, that she
never rested till ahe made an opportunity to confess all her
f'ielings to her mother, and beg-her to tell her if they were
very wrong, aijd if she ought to like her.
" I dm not so unconscionable as to expect yon to like every
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
86 HOME rartuENCE.
one with whom you associate, my deai little girl," rejlied hei
mother, fondly, fcr tiere was something in Emmeline's guile-
less confidence iiTesistibly claiming love. "AH we have to do
when we find nothing that exaetiy sympathizes with our own
feelings, or our own ideas of right and wrong, is to try and find
out some reason for their being so different; some circum
stance that may have exposed them to greater temptations and
trials, for you know I have often told you pleasure and amuse-
ments, if too much indulged in, are a much greater trial to
some than sorrow and pain. Now, Aanie has had a great
many more temptations of this kind tJian you or Mary, and we
cannot expect one so very young entirely to resist them."
"Do you mean, mamma, her going out so much in Lon-
" Yes, love ; she is very much noticed, and so perhaps thinks
a little more of appearance and dress and pleasure than is quite
necessary."
" But Lady Helen need not take her out so much, if she did
not like. Bo you think she is quite rigjit to do so ? " asked
Emmeline, very thoughtfullv.
" We must never pronounce judgment on other people's
aofions, my little girL I think it better not to interrupt your
present quiet and I hope happy life, and therefore I do not
talte you or Caroline to London ; but Mr. Grahame is obliged
to be there for several montis, and Lady Helen very naturally
would, not like to be separated either from bim or her children
And then she has such a large family, and Annie so many
young relations, that you see Lady Helen could not keep bei
children quite as free from temptation as I do mine, and we
should be more sorry for Annie than blame lier individually,
however we may not like her faults. Do you understand me,
my dear ? "
" Oh, yes, mamma, and I am so glad I took course to tell
you all I felt. I am afiaid I have encouraged many unkind
thoughts about her, and I, am quite sorry now, for I see she
cannot help them as much as I thought she CQuld. I do not
think I could ever make her jay friend, but I will try very
much not to dislike and avoid her."
" And that is all that is required of you, my love. When I
tell you that our Father in Heaven commands us to love one
anotlier, and to avoid all unkindness in thought and deed, I do
n Jt mean that He desires us to love all alike, because He knew
it would be neither for our happiness nor good that it should be
8o, but only to prevent the too great influence of prejudice had
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 87
dislike. "Wo might tMnk such feelings can do no haiin, be^
cause only confined to our own minds, but tliey would be sui'e
gradaally to lead us fo taking pleasure in. listening to their dis-
praise,, and joining in it, and fo seeing and talking only of their
faults, forgetting that if we had been eircumstanced exactly as
they are, w^ might have been just the same ; and this is the
feeling David condemns in one of the Psaima we read this
morning. Are you tired of listenir^ to me, dearest, or shall
we read it over again together ? "
Emmeiine's oaly answer was to run eagerly for her little
Bible, and with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes listen to her
mother, aa she turned to the fifteenth PsaJm, and reading it
through, parficularly pointed out the third verse, and so ex-
'plsuned it, as easily and happily to satisfy her cliild as to the.
Divine authority for all that she had said, and to stamp them
still more forcibly on her memory,
" And now I do not mean to talk to you any more, luy dar-
ling," she said, kissing the little earnest face upturned to hei-s.
" Yoa have heard quite enough to think about, and I am sure
you will not forget it, so go and play ; Ellen must be wonderhig
what has become of you." Ajid again full of glee', the happy
chUd bounded away, exclaiming, as she did so, "Poor Annie, I
am glad I am not exposed to such fmptations, for I am sure
I should not be able to resist them either."
But though any one who had seen her the next half hour
might have fancied that a serious fljought or sober task Ceuid
not approach her, neither the conversation nor the Psalm was
forgotten ; with Herbert^s explanatory assistance, she not only
found the Psalm, but committed it to raemory ; and the second
Sunday after her conversation with her mother, repeated it bo
correctly and prettily to her father, aa to give her the delight
of his caressing approbation. Learning con'ectly by rote was
always her greatest trial, for her vivid fancy and very versatile
powers occasioned her actual lessons to be considered such
drudgery, as fo require a great effort ou her part to retain
them. The sense, indeed, if she understood it, she learned
quickly enough ; but she preferred her own language to any
one's else, and Mrs. Hamilton had some difficulty ia making
her understand that in time of study she required correctness,
and not iancy ; and that the attention which was necessary fo
conquer the words as well as the sense of the lesson, was much
more important and valuable, however disagreeable it might
Bceni, than the facility of changing the language to something
prettier than the ori^nah
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
88 HOME INFLUEMCE.
Wlken, thereicre, as in the pieseiit caae, she voluntarily uu
dertook, and conquered really a difficult task for a little lively
girl, her parents had no scruple in giving the only reward she
cared for their approbation. It was in the bestowal of praise
Mrs. Hamilton was compelled to be almost painfully guarded.
She found that the least expression of unusual approbation
caused Caroline to relax in her efforts, thinking she had done
quite enough, and perniciously increasing her already too ex-
alted ideas of herself. "While to Enimehne it was the most
powerful incentive to a continuance in improvement, and deter-
mined conquest of her faults. There was constantly a dread
on the mother's heart, that Caroline would one day accuse her
of paiiiality, from the different measure of her approbation
which she was compelled to bestow ; and yet painful as it was
to persevere under such an impression, the future welfare of
botti was too precious to be risked for the gratification of the
present.
She was watching with delight Emmeline's uarestraiaed en-
joyment of her father's caresses and lively conversation, in
which Percy as usual joined for Tiny, as he chose to call
her, was his especial pet and plaything when she was startled
by a low and evidently suppressed sob near her ; Ellen was
bending over a book of Bible-stories which Herbert had lent
her, and her long ringlets completely concealed her face ; Miss
Hareourt and Caroline both looked up surprised, but a rapid
sign from Mrs. Hamilton prevented their maUng any remark.
Herbert fixed his eyes pityingly on Ms little cousin, as if wish-
ing but not liking to address her. Edward was the only one of
the party who moved. He was busily engaged in examining a
large Noah's ark, and speculating as to its resemblance to a
ship, and its powers of floating ; but after a few minutes' ap-
parent thought he left it, and sitting down on Ellen's chwr, put
his arm round her, and begged her to find a picture of Noah's
ark, and see if it were at aH like the toy. Cheered by his af-
fection, she conquered with a strong effort the choking in her
throat, and turned to the page, and tried to sympathize in his
wonder if it really were like the vessel in which Noah was
saved, and where be could have put all the animals. Mrs. Ha^
milton joined them, and without tailing more notice of Ellen's
very pale cheeks and heavy eyes, than gently to put back the
thick tresses that seemed to annoy her by their weight, gave
them so much interesting infoi-mation on the subject and so
delighted Edward with allowing him to drag down several
books from the library to find out all they said about it, that
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 89
twt hours sHpiied away qif unconsciously ; and Ellen's very
piunful feeling had been so soothed, that she cowld smile, and
join Emiueline in making all the animals walk in grand pro-
4!essioa to their temporary dwelling.
But Mrs. Hamilton dad not forget the child's involuntary
evidence of suffering, and vmnly tried to imagine what at that
moment could have caused it. Herbert seemed to think about
it, too, for the next day she heard him ask Edward
" If he knew why his sister always looked so sad ? if he
thought it was beca.use she was not yet reconciled to Oat-
wood ? "
" It is not that," was Edward's reply : " she has always
looked and seemed sad, as long as I can remember her. One
reason may be, she was always ill in India, and papa was often
teUing me how very much she suffered, and how patiently she
bore it ; and then, too, she knew I was poor mamma's favorite,
(his voice trembled,) and that used to make hervery unhappy ;
bnt I do not know why- she is so very sad now, unless she is ill
ag^, and that no one can tell, for she never will eomplwn."
" Was your sister such a consfa.nt sufferer then?" inquired
his aunt. " Come here, and tell me all you can about her,
Edwai'd. I wish I could know more about both your lives in
Edward, with eager willingness, coirnnmiwit'^d all he knew,
Ihough, from his being so constantly with his mother, and EOen
so much left with her father and herself, that all was little
enough ; adding, however, that after her very dangerous illness,
when she was eight years old he perfectly well remembered
hearing some celebrated physidan say to his father she would
probafcly feel the effects of it all her life.
" It was a very long time before mamma permitted me to
see her," added Edw^d, " and when I did, I remember being
almost frightened, she was so altered, so pale, and thin, and
weak ; and then she was very ill after poor papa's death ; but
since then she has never complained, and never kept her bed ;
but I know she is often in pain, for when I have touched, her
forehead sometimes, it has burnt my hand like fire."
This childish explanation certainly told Mrs. Hamilton more
than sli3 had known before ; hut that Ellon had witnessed the
fearful scene of her lather's death was still concealed. Ed-
ward, as he grew older, though he did not know why, seemed
to shrink from the subject, particularly that he had been tit a
ball the same awful night.
A few days afterward, as Mrs. Hamilton was crossin-^ the
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
90 HOME INFLUENCE.
iarge hall on hei way to t!ie school-room for so, spite of Per-
nj'a determmation tliat it should receive the more learned and
refined appellation oi studio, it was still called she overheard
Caroline's voice, exel aiming in angry impatience
' Indeed, I shall not, I have enough to do with my own les-
sons, without attending to other people's. It is your idleness,
Ellen, not the difficulty of your lesson ; for I am sure it is easy
enough."
" For shame, Caroline ! " was Emmeline'a indignant reply.
" She is not idle, ^d I am sure her lesson is not so easy; I
wish I could explain it properly."
" You know Miss Harcourt herself said she was careless or
idle to-day, and she must know, I am not going to lose my
hour of recreation to help those who won't help themselves."
" How can you be so ill-natured, so unkind ! " began Emme-
line ; but Ellen's heseeching voice intemipted her
" Do not quarrel with your sister on my account, dearest
Emmeline ; I dare say I am very stupid, hut my head does feel
confused to-day 5 pray do not mind me, dear Emmy ; go with
Caroline, aunt EmmeUne will not like your remaining in."
Caroline had already quitted the room, and in her haste ran
against her mother, who she instantly perceived had heard all
she said. With a deep blush, she turned as to reenter the
school-room, but Mrs. Hamilton stopped her
" No," shg said, gravely, " if you are only to act kindly for
fear of my reproof, it wiU do no good either to yourself or
Ellen. I could scarcely have believed it possible you should
so have spoken, had I not heard it. Go and amuse yourself
as you intended; I rather think had you g^ven up a little of
your time to help your cousin, you would have experienced
more real pleasure than yon will now feel all day."
" Dear mamma, will i/oti help Ellen ? " asked Emmeline, very
timidly, for though at Ellen's reiterated entreaty she had left
her, she felt it almost disrespect to run across the hall while her
mother was speaking; and the thought suddenly crossed her
that, as she was quite sure Ellen was not idle though Miss
Harcourt thought she was, her mother, by assisting her, might
save her from increased displeasure.
"Yes, dearest, if necessary; I have heard enough to satisfy
me that ycu would if you could; and so I will, for your sat^."
And Emmeline ran away, quite happy, to try all she cguld to
s'jothe Caroline, whose self-reproach had as usual terminated in
a fit of ill-temper and anger against Ellen, instead of against
herself.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME iKFLUENCE. 91
'Mk. HamUton entered the school-room, and stood by Elleu
60 quietly that the child did not perceive her. Her attention
was completely absorbed in her book ; but after a few min ite?
ahe suddenly pushed it from her, and exclaiming almost pas
eionately :
"I cannvt learn it, try all I can! and Miss Harcourt wilj be
BO very, very angry " and she gave way, for the fli-st time
since her arrival at Oakwood, to a violent burst of tears.
"What is this very, very difficult lesson, my little Ellen!"
inquired her aunt, kindly taking one hand from her face, "Tell
me, and we shall be able to leam it together, perhaps."
" Oh, no, no ! it is because I am so very stupid ; Miss Har
court has explained It tome twice, and I know, Ilmow, Ipught
to understand it but "
"Well, then, never mmd it to-day. We can all leam much
better some days than others, you know; and I dare say to-
morrow you will be able to conquer it,"
"But Miss Harcourt is already displeased, and she will be
still more so, if I leave it without her permission," replied the
sobbing girl, longing, but not daring, to throw her arms round
her aunt's neck, aad lean her aching head against her bosom.
"Not if I beg a reprieve," replied her aunt, smiling; "but
you must not let it make you so very unhappy, Ellen. 1 am
afraid it is not only your lesson, but that you are ill, or unhappy
about something else. Tel! me, dearest, wliat can I do to make
you more happy, more at home? "
" Oh, nothing, nothing I " replied Ellen, struggling with her
tears. "Indeed I am happier than I ever thought I could be,
I must be very ungrateful to make you think I am unhappy,
when you are so good and so kind. My head ached lo-day,
and that always makes me feel a wish to cry; but indeed I am
not unhappy, and never when you kiss me and call me your
Ellen, whatever I.may feel when you are not by;" and, as if
frightened at her own confession, she hid her face in her aunt's
dress.
Mrs. HamiSton lifted her into her lap, and kissed her witliout
Bpealdng.
"You must leam to love me more and more then, my Ellen,"
ahe said, aftfir a pause, "and when you axe feeling ill or in
pain, you must not be afraid to tell me, or I shall think that you
only fancy you love me."
" Oh, no, it is not fancy ; I never loved any one as I do you
except papa my own darling, good papa!" the word was
[dmost choked with sobs. "Ileusel to fondle me and praise
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
2 HOME INFLUENCE.
me, and csill me his darling Ellen, aa uncle Hamilton did Em-
m^ine last Sunday; ^Ad when I was ill, bo ill they said I
should die, he never left me, except when his military dutiea
caUed him away; and he jjsed to nurse me, and try to amuse
me, that Ijnight forget pwn and weakness. Oh, I shall never,
never forget that dreadful night ! " and she closed her eyes and
shuddered, as the horrid scene of blood and death flashed he-
fore her.
"What dreadful night, my poor child?" inquired Mrs, Ilamii-
'ton, soothingly, after douh ting whether or not it would be better
for EUen to pui-sue each an evidently painful theme, and no lon-
ger requiring an explanation of her emotion the previous Sabbath.
" The night poor papa was killed ; oh, there were so many
horrid forms on the grass, the natives and poor papa's own
men, and they looked so ghastly in the moonlight, and the grass
was covered with blood and limbs and heads that had been shot
ofj and there were such cries and groans of pain I see it, I
hear it all again so often before I go to sleep, and when my
head feels as it does to-day, and fancy I hear poor papa's last
words, and feel his kiss as he lay bleeding, bleeding slowly to
death, and his voice was so strange, and his hps so cold ! "
"But how came you in such a dreadful scene, my poor El-
len? who could have permitted such a little child to be there?"
"Because I wished it so very much; I knew he would die
before they could bring him to me, and I did so want to feel his
kiss and hear hb voice once more. Oh, aunt Emmeline ! shall
I never see him again? I know he cannot come to me; but
shall I, oh, shall I ever be good enough to go to him?" And
she looked up in her aunt's face with such a countenance of be-
seeching entreaty, that Mrs. Hamilton's eyes filled with teare,
and it was a fuU minute before she could speak; but when she
did, Ellen felt more relieved and comfoi-ted, than on the subject
of her father's death she had ever felt before. Erom her mo-
ther rot being able to bear the subject even partially alluded
to, and from having no one to whom she could speak of it, it had
t^en a stiU stronger hold of her imagination ; and whenever
she was unusually weak, and her head aching and confused, it
became still more vivid. The very visible sympathy and in-
terest of her aunt, and the gentle words in which she tried to
turn the child's thoughts from that scene of horror to the happi-
ness of her father in Heaven, and an assurance that, if she tried
to do her duty, and to love and serve God, and trust in His
mercy U render her efforts acceptable, she would rejoin hun,
eeemed to remove the mass of tangled thought witbin her young
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE, 93
miJiii- Her tead, indeed, still ached very painfully, and her
eye.3 seemed as if they would close, cotwithstaiiding all her ef-
forla to keep them open; hut when she awoke from a lang
quiet sleep, on the sofa in Mrs. Hamilton's dressing-room, where
her aunt had laid her, and found that kind friend still watehing
over her, the little heart and temples had ceased to throb so
quickly, and she felt better and happier.
Mr, Maitland, the medical friend of the family, confirmed the
opinion which Edward had siud their physician in India had
given of his sister's state of health. He did not, he said, con-
sider her liable to serious illness, or of a constitution that would
not endure; but that he feared it would be BOine yeais before
she knew the blessing of really good health, and bo constantly
subject to that lassitude, severe headache, and the depression of
the whole system thence proceeding, which must prevent the
liveliness and quickness of acquirement natural to most ohild-
I'en. He thought the evil had been very greatly increased by
want of sufficient care in early years, and the unwholesome cli-
mate in which she had so long lived, that he wondered her mo
tlier had not been advised to send her over to England, adding,
with a smile, he was quite sure Mrs. Hamilton would not have
refused the chaise, anxious as it might have been. And ear-
nestly, not only on account of the child's physical but mental
heallih, did Mrs. Haiailton wish that such had been the case,
and that she had had the care of her niece from earliest in-
fancy ; and how much more would she have wished this, had
she known that Mrs. Fortescue had really been advised fo do
with Ellen as Mr. Mtutland had said; but that believing it
merely an idle fancy, and persisting, too, in her own headstrong
idea, that it was ill-temper, not illness, which rendered Ellen so
disagreeable, she would not stoop so to conquer her unfortunate
pride as to ask such a favor of her relatives, and to whom elee
could she appeal? Colonel Fortescue had none hut distant
cousins. She did satisfy a qualm of conscience by once sug-
gesting to her husband as her own idea,however,not as that
of an experienced physician that as he fancied Ellen was
always ill, she might be better in England ; hut, as she expect"
ed, not only his intense love for his little girl rose up against
the idea of separation, but his pride revolted from sending her
to claim the pity of relatives who had so completely cast off her
parents ; yet had he been told it was absolutely necessary for
her health and so greatly for her happiness, he would not have
hesitated to sacrifice every thought of self. But Eleanor,
eatisfted that she had done her duty, and deiigh ted that in ono
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94 HOME INFLUEjSCIj;.
respect he was quito as proud as she was, never again referred
to the aubjecf, and the physician who had thus advised, from
his constant removals, he never chanced to meet.
Great, indeed, was the amount of childish siiifering which
this selfish decision, on the part of her mother, occasioned Ellen.
We do not mean the pain of constant languor itself, though that
in its full amount our happy healthful young readers cannot
have the least idea of; tliey, perhaps, think it almost a pleasant
change, the care, and petting, and presents so often lavished on
a brief decided illaesa ; but that is a very different thing to that
kind of suffering which only so affects them as to be dull and
heavy, they do not know why, and to make it such a very diffi-
cult task to learn the lessons others find so easy ; and such a
pain sometimes to move, that they are thought slow and un-
willing, and perhaps even idle, when they would gladly run,
and help, and work as otliers ; and so weak sometimes, that
tears start at the first harsh or unkind word, and they are thought
cross, when they do not in the least feel so ; and this, not for a
few weeks, but, with few exceptions, the trial of months and
even years.
And fliis was Ellen's which not even the tenderest and
most unfailing care of her aunt could entirely guard her from.
It is a most difficult thing for those who are strong and healthy
themselves to underatsmd and always bear with physical suffer-
ing in others. Miss Harcourt, though in genera] fi'ee from any
thing hke prejudice, and ardently desirous to follow up her own
and Mrs. Hamilton's ideas of right and wrong, could not so
govern her affections as to feel the same toward Ellen as she
did toward Edward and the children she had lived with and
taught so long. Her task with EUen required more patience
and forbearance and care than with either of the others, and
sometimes she could not help believing and acting toward her
as if it were wUful idleness and carelessness, not the languor
With the recollection and evidence of Herbert, who had be&n
delicate from his birth, and who was yet of such a remarkably
gifted mind, and so bright in aspect, so sweet in temper, that
illness seemed to have spiritualized instead of deadened every
faculty, she could not understand, as Mrs. Hamilton did, the
force of circumstances in producing from nearly the same cause
two such different effects, nor how it was that complete neglect
had engendered more evils than indiscreet indulgence ; but that
it appeared to have done so, was unhappily only too evident
uot only to Miss Harcourt but to Mrs. Hamilton. It seemed
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
IIOMB INFLUENCE. 95
almoat suipriang, and certainly a proof of a remarkably good
disposition, that Edward appeared so free from great faults, and
of such a warm, generouB,frant,andjsemin5'ifynnseMah nature,
so open to conviction and to all good impressions, that, except
occasional fits of yiolent passion, there really was, as far as his
aunt and uncle could perceive, nothing to complain of. They
did not know that he stood in such awe of Mr. Hamilton, from
his mother's lessons of his exceeding sternness, that he exei
cised the greatest control over himself; and he was so exces-
sively fond of Mr. Howard, and his days glided by in such va-
ried and delightful employment, that there was no temptation
to do wrong, except certaui acts of trifling disobedience, of
more consequence from the self-will they betrayed than the acta
themselves, but which might have been sources of anxiety to
his aunt, and lessened her confidence in him had she known
them; but aho did not, for EDen not only constantly concealed,
but she was the sufierer for him, and so brought reproof and
suspicion on herself, which, could the truth have been known,
might have been averted. But truth of act as well as word
had never been impressed on Edward ; and, therefore, though
he was constitutionally too brave to utter a falsehood, too ho-
norable to shield himself at the expense of another, if he
knew that other sufiered, he had been too long taught to believe
that Ellen was his inferior, and must always give up to him, to
imagine that he waa ever acting deeeitfiilly or unmanfully in
permitting her to conceal his acts of disobedience.
There was so much to love and admire in Edward, tiat
neither Mr. nor Mrs, Hamilton imagined the real weakness of
hv* character that those lovable qualities all sprung from na-
tural impulse, unsuattuned by any thing liko principle. The
quickness and appareat fervor with which he received the reli-
gious impressions they and Mr. Howatd sought so earnestly to
instil, in the short time that was allowed them before he en-
tered the navy, they angured so hopefuUy from, thit not only
his preceptor and uncle, but his ever-anxious aunt, looked for-
ward to his career with scarcely a doubt as to ita probity and
Ellen caused her infinitely more anxiety There was a di
regard to truth, a want of openneas and candor, which, though
Mrs. Hamilton believed the effects of neglect and extreme
timidity, both her husband and Miss Harcourt feared were na-
hiia.l. Much, indeed, sprung from the poor child's mistaken
idea of the nature and solemnity of the promise she had made
Iier mother, and her constant watchfulness and determination
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
96 HOME INFLUENCE.
to sliield Edward. For the diaregard to truth, her mother
had, indeed, aJoue been answerable. Ellen's naturally very
timid character required the inculcation of a high, firm principle,
to enable her so to conquer herself as to speak the truth, even
if she suffei'ed from it. It waa only, indeed, ia extreme casea
of fear and Eever to her father that she had ever spoken
falsely; hut to Mrs. HamOton's high principles, which by ex-
treme diligence and care she had so successfully imparted to
her own children, even conce.ilmcnt was often an acted untruth,
and of this fault and equivocation Ellen was but too often
guilty, exciting Miss Harcourt's and Caroline's prejudices yet
more against her. The latter, with all her faults, never swerved
from the rigid truth, and had a strong contempt and dislike
toward all those who did except her friend Annie, who, as
she always took care to speak the truth to her, she did not sus-
pect of being less careful than herself. Emmeline, who had
had some difficulty in restraining her Jove of exaggeration, and
also in so conquering her own timidity and fear as always to
spealt the truth, only pitied Etlen, but did not love her the leas.
Of course, it was not till some months had passed that these
lights and shadows of character in the orphans, and in tho
opinions they called forth in those around them, could be dis-
covered ; but notwithstanding she stood almost alone in her
opinion, notwithstanding there was very httle outward evidence
that she was correct, Mrs. Hamilton believed there was a great
deal more in her niece than was discernible. She seemed to
possess a strength, almost an intensity, of feeling and warmtli
of affection, which, if properly guided, would effectually aid in
removing the childish errors engendered by neglect ; and it was
this belief which not only enabled her to bear calmly the anx-
iety and care, and often p^, which those faults and their
compelled correction occasioned, but actuaOy to love her niece,
if possible, still more than Edward, and very nearly with the
same amount of quiet but intense s^eelaon which she felt for
her own children.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
CHAPTER V.
One very fine morning in May, Mra. Hamilton invited Ed-
ward to join her in & walk, intending also to call at Moorlands
and Greville Manor on their way. The lads were released for
a few days from their attendance on Mr. Howard, that gentie-
maa having been summoned on some clerical business to Exeter,
PeFcy was to accompany his faflier on an equestrian excursion ;
Herbert had been commissioned by Emmeline some days be-
fore to take some books to Mary Greville, and had looked for-
ward himself to spending a morning with her. Edward, de-
lighted at being selected as Ids aunt's companion, prepared with
haste and glee for his excursion, Robert was, however, un-
fortunately not at hand to give him a clean pair of shoes (he
had already spoUed two pair that morning by going into the
stream which ran through the pafk to sail a newly-rigged fri-
gate,) and angry at the delay, fearing that his aunt would not
wait for him, he worked himself into such a violent passion,
that when Robert did appear he gave vent to more abusive
language than he had ever yet ventured to use, concluding by
hurling both his discarded shoes at the domestic, who only
escaped a severe blow by starting aside, and permitting them
to go through the window,
"Robert, leave the room: I desire that you will not again
give your assistance to Master Fortescue till he knows how
to ask it," was Mrs. Hamilton's most unexpected interference,
and Edward so startled at her voice and look, that his passion
was suddenly calmed.
" Finish your toilet, and when you have found your shoes
and put them away, yon may join me in the breakfast- room,
Edward. I only wait your pleasure."
And never did Edward leave her presence more gladly.
Shame had suddenly conquered anger ; and though his chest
still heaved and his cheeks were still flushed, he did not utter
another word tiU nearly a quarter of a mile on their' walk.
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98 HOME INFLUENCE.
Twice le had looked up in his aunt's face as if about to speak,
but the expression waa so very grave, that he felt strangely
itfi'aid to proceed. At length he exclaimed
" You are displeased with me, dear aunt ; but indeed I could
not help feeling angry,"
"I am stiil more soriy than displeased, Edward; I had
Loped you were learning more control, and to know your daty
to a domestic better. Your uncle "
" Oh, pray do not tll him ! " implored Edward, " and I will
Rsk Robert's pardon the moment I go home."
" I certainly shall not complain of yoii to him, Edward, if my
arguments can convince you of your error ; but if you ave only
to ask Kobert^s pardon for fear of your uncle, I would rather
you should not do so. Teil me the truth ; if you were quite
sure your uncle would know nothing about it, would you still
ask Eobert's pardon ? "
Edward unhesitatingly answered " No ! "
" And why not ? "
" Because I think he ought to ask mine for keeping me wfu'^
ing as he did, and for being insolent first to me."
" He did not keep you waiting above five minutes, and that
was my fault, not his, as I was employing him ; and as for inso-
lence, can you tell me what he said ? " Edward hesitated.
"I do not remember the exact words, hut I know hecallod
me impatient, and if I were, he had no right to tell me so."
" Nor did he. I heard aU that passed, and I could not help
tlynking how very far superior was Eohert, a poor country
youth, to the young gentleman who abused him."
The eobr rose to Edward's temples, but he set his teeth and
clenched his hand, to prevent any farther display of anger ; and
his aunt, after attentively observing him, continued
"He said that his young master Percy never required im-
possibilities, and though often impatient, never abused him.
You heard the word, and feeling you had been so, believed he
applied it to yourself."
"But in what can ho be my superior?" asked Edward, in a
low voice, as if still afraid his passion would regain ascendencv.
"I win answer your question by another, Edward. Suppose
Hny one had used abusive terms toward you, and contemptu-
ously desired you to get out of your sight, how would you have
answered ? "
" I would have struck him to the earth," replied Edward, pas.
sionately, and quite forgetting his wished for control. '' Keitliei
equal nor superior should dare speak so to me again.'
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HOME INFLUENCE. 99
And what preTented'Kobert acting in tte same maimer?"
Do you tliink he has no feehng? that he is incapahle of such
emolJonB as pain or anger?"
Edward stood for a minute quite still and silent.
"I did not think anything about it," he said, at length; "but
I cert^nly supposed I had a right to say what I pleased to one
so far beneath me."
"And in what is Eohert so far beneath you?"
"He is a servant, and I am a gentleman in birth, rank "
"Stop, Edward! did you make yourself a gentleman? Is it
aiy, credit to you, individually, to be higher in tlic world, and
Mceive a better education than Robert?"
Edward was again silent, and hia aunt continued fo talk to
him so kindly yet so earnestly, that at length be exclaimed
"I feel I have indeed been wrong, dear aunt; but what can
I do to prove to Eohert I am really sorry for having treated
him so ill?"
"Are you really sorry, Edward, or do yoii only say this for
fear of your uncle's displeasure?"
" Indeed, I bad quite forgotten him," replied Edward, ear-
nestly; "I deserve his anger, and would vpillingly expose my-
Felf to it, if it would redeem my fault."
"I would rather see you endeavor earnestly to restrain your
passions my dear hoy, than inflict any such pain upon you. It
wiUbe a great pleasure tome if you can reaUy so conquer your-
self as to apologize to Eobert; and I think the pain of so doing
will enable you more easily to remember all we have been say-
ing, than if you weakly shrink from it. The life you have cho-
sen makes me even more anxious that you should become less
passionate ' than were you to remain longer with me ; I fear
you will so often suffer seriously from it."
"I very often make resolutions never to be in a passion
again," returned Edward, sorrowfully ; "but whenever any thing
provokes me, something seems to come in my throat, and I am
compelled to give way."
"You will not be able to conquer your fault, my dear Ed-
ward, without great perseverance; hut remember, the more
difficult the task, the greater the reward; and that you can
control anger I have, even during our walk, had a proof."
Edward looked up surprised.
"Did you not feel very angry when I said Eobert was ycm
superior?"
"Yes," replied Edward, blushing deeply.
"And yet yoii successfully checked your rising passion, fof
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
100 HOME INFLUENCE.
fear of offending me, I cannot be always near you; bnt, my
dear boy, you must endeavor to remember that lesson I have
tried to teacli you. so often that you are never alone. Tou
cannot even thirJi an angry thought, much less speak an abu-
sive word and commit the moat ti-ifling act of passion, without
offending Giod. If you would but ask for His help, and recol-
lect that to offend Him is far more terrible than tx) incur the
displeasure of either your uncle or myself, I think you would
find your task much easier, than if you attempted it, trusting in
your own strength alone, and only for fear of man."
Edward did not make any reply, but his countenance express-
ed such earnest thought and softened feeling, that Mrs. Hamil-
ton, determined on not interrupting it by calling at Moorlands
aa she had intended, and so turned in the direction of GrevHIe
Manor. They walked on for some Kttle time in silence, gradu-
ally ascending one of those steep and narrow but green and
flowery lanes peculiar to Devonshire ; and on reaching the sum-
mit of the hill, and pausing a moment by the little gate that
opened on a rich meadow, through which their path lay, an ex-
clamation of " How beautiful ! " burst fi-om Edward.
Fields of alternate red aad green sloped down to the river's
edge, the green bearing the glistening color peculiar to May,
the red from the fullrich soil betraying that the plough had hut
lately been there, and both contrasting beautifully with the
limpid waters, whose deep azure seemed to mock the very
heavens. The Dart from that point seemed no longer a mean-
dering river: it was so encompassed by thick woods and fertile
hills, that it resembled a lake, to wliich there was neither outlet
nor inlet, save from the land. The trees all presented that ex-
quisite variety of green peculiar to May, and so lofty was the
slope on which they grew, that some seemed to touch the very
sky, while others bent gracefully over the water, which their
thick branches nearly touched. The hiUs themselves presented
ft complete mosaic of red and green ; the fields divided by high
hedges, from which the oak and elm and beech and ash wo^ld
start up, of growth so superb as to have the semblance of a cul-
tivated park, and not of natural woodland,
Greville Manor, aa Elizabethan building, stood on their
righl^ surrounded by its ancient woods, which, though lovely
still, Mr. Greville's excesses had already shorn of some of their
finest tunher. Some parts of the river were in complete shade
from the overhanging branches, while beyond thtm would
litretch the bright blue of heaven : in other parts, a stray sun-
beam would dar*i through an opening in the thick branche.^.
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HOME INfLOEKCE. 101
and eluae like a bright spot in tLe surrounding durkness ; and
farther on, the cloudless sun so flung down hia full refulgence,
that the moving waters flashed and spai-kled like burning
gems.
"la it not beautiful-, dear aunt? Sometimes I feel as if 1
were not half so passionate in the open air as in the house ;
can you tell me why ? "
"Not exactly, Edward," she replied, smiling; "but I am
very pleased to hear yOu say so, and to find that you can ad-
mire such a lovely scene as this. To my feelings, the presence
of a loving Gtod is so impressed upon his works we can so
distinctly trace goodness, and love, and power, in the gift of
such a beautiful world, that I feel still more how wi-ong it is to
indulge in vexation, or care, or anxiety, when in the midst of a
beaufifiil country, than when at home ; and perhaps it is some-
thing of the same feeling working in you, though you do not
know how to deflne it."
" But yov, can never do or feel any thing wrong, dear aunt,"
said Edward, looking with surprised inquiry in her face.
"Jndeed, my dear boy, I know that I very often have wrong
thoughts and feelings ; and that only my Father in Heaven's
infinite mercy enables me to overcome them. . It would be
very sad, if I were as faulty, and as easily led into error, as
yon and your cousins may be, when I liave had so many more
years to think and try to improve in ; but just in the same
way as you have duties to perform and feelings to overcome,
30 have I ; and if I fail in the endeavor to lead you all in
the better and happier path or feel too much anxiety, or
shrink from giving myself pain, when compelled to correct a
fault in either of you, I am just as likely to incur the dis-
pleasure of our Father in Heaven, as you are when you are
passionate or angry j and perhaps still more so, for the more
capable we are of knowing and doing our duty, the more wrong
we are when we fail in it, even in thought."
There was so much in this reply to surprise Edward, it
seemed so to fill his mind with new ideas, that he continued
his walk in absolute silence. That his aunt coidd ever fml, as
she seemed to say she had and did, and even stiU at times
found it difficult to do right, was very strange; but yet some-
tow it seemed to comfort him, and to inspire him with a sort
of courage (b emulate her, and conquer his difficulties. He
had fancied that she could not possibly understand how di'Bcult
it was for him always to be good ; but when he found that she
could do so even froin her own experience, het words app eared
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
102 HOME itJFLUENCE.
eiidowed witli double force, and he loved her, and looked up ta
her mare than ever.
Ten miautes more brought them to the Giothic lodge of the
Manor, and instead of seeking the front entrance, Mrs. Hamil-
ton Jed tKe way to the flower-garden, on which Mrs. Greville'a
usual morning-room opened by a glass door.
" Herbert was to tell Mary of our intended Tisit ; I wonder
she is not watching for me as usual," observed Mrs. Hamilton,
somewhat anxiously; and her anxiety increased, as on nearing
tlia half open door she saw poor Mary, her head leaning
against Herbert, deluged in tears, Mrs. Greville was not
there, though the books, work, and maps upon the table told
of their morning's employment having been the same as usuaL
Herbert was earnestly endeavoring to speak comfort, but evi-
dently without success ; and Mary was in general so eontroUed,
that her present grief betrayed some very much heavier trial
than usual.
" Is your mother ill, my dear Mary ? What can have hap-
pened to agitate you so painfully?" she inquired, as at the
iirat sound of her voice the poor girl sprung toward her, and
tried to say how very glad she was that she had come just
then; but the words were inarlictilate from sobs; and Mrs.
HamHtou, desiring Edward to amuse himself in tiie garden,
made her sit down by her, and told her not t* attempt to check
her tears, but to let them have free vent a few minutes, and
then to try and tell her what had occurred. It was a very
sad tale for a child to teH, and as Mrs, Hamilton's previous
knowledge enabled her to gather more from it than Mary's
broken narrative pertqitted, we will give it in our own words.
Mr. Greville had been at home for a month, a quarter of
which time the good humor which some unusually successful
bets had excited, lasted j but no longer. His amusement then
consisted, as usual, in trying every method to annoy and irritate
his wife, and in endeavoring to make his son exactly like him-
self. Young as the boy was scarcely twelve he took him
to scenes of riot and feasting, which the society of some boon
companions, unhappily near neighbors, permitted; and though
Alfred's cheek became pale, his eye haggard, and his temper
uneven, his initiation was fraught with such a new species of
excitement and pleasure, that it rejoiced and encouraged hia
father in the same measure as it agonized his mother, and, for
ber sake, poor Mary.
That morning Alfred bad declared his intention of visiting a
large fair, which, with some races of but ill repute, from the
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. iOB
liaJ conipauy they collected, was to be held at a neighboring
town, and told his fatter to prepare for a lai^e demand on hia
cosii, as he meant to try his hand at aU the varieties of gaming
which the scene presented. Mr. Greville laughed heartily at
what be called the boy's right spirit, and promised him aU he
required ; but there was a quivering on her mother's lip, a
deadly paleness on her cheek, that spoke volumes of suffei'kig
lo the heart of the observant Mary, who sat trembling beside
her. Still Mrs. Greville did not speak till her husband lefV the
room ; but then, as Alfred was about to follow iiim, she caught
hold of his hand, and implored him, with such a tone and look
of agony, only to hsten to her, for her sake to give up his
intended pleasure ; that, almost frightened by an emotion which
in his gentle mother he had scarcely ever seen, and suddenly
remembering that he had lately been indeed most unkind and
neglectful to her, he threw his arms round her neck, and pro-
mised with tears that if it gave her so mudi pain, he would not
go ; and so sincere was his feeling at the moment that, had there
been no tempter near, he would, in all probability, have kept
his word. But the momeut Mr. Greville heard from his son his
change of intention and its cause, he so laughed at his ridicu-
lous folly, so sneered at his want of spirit in preferring his
mother's whims to his fathei-'s pleasures, that, as could not fail
to be the case, every better feeling fled. This ought to have
been enough ; but it was too good an opportunity to vent his
ill-temper on his wife, to' be neglected. He sought her, where
she was superintending Mary's lessons, and for nearly an hour
poured upon her the most fearful abuse and cutting taunts,
ending by declaring that all the good she had done by her
eairiily eloquence was to banish her son from her presence,
whenever he left home, as in future Alfred should be his com-
panion ; and that he should begin that very day. Mrs. Gre-
ville neither moved nOr spoke in reply ; and the expression of
her countenance was so sternly calm, that poor Mary felt as if
she dared not give way to the emotion with which her heart
was bursting,
Mr. Greville left the room, and they heard him peremptorily
desire the housekeeper to put up some of Master Alfred's
clothes. In a perfectly composed voice Mrs, Greville desired
Mary to proceed with the exercise she was writing, and emu-,
lating her firmness, she tried to obey. Fortunately her task
was writing, for to have spoken or read aloud would, she ft It,
have been impossible. So full half an hour passed, and tbon
hasty footsteps were heard in the hall, and the joyous voice of
Alfred exclaiming
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
104 HOME mPLUENCa.
" Let me wish mamma and Mary good-by, papa."
" I have not another moment to spare," was the reply. " Tou
hane kept me long enough, and must be quicker next time)
coifle along, my boy."
The rapid tread of horses' hoofs speedily followed the sullen
clang with which the hall-door closed, and as rapidly faded
away in the distance. With an irresistible impulse, Mary
raised her eyes to her mother's face ; a bright red flush had
risen to her temples, but her lips were perfectly colorless, and
her haad tightly pressed her heart ; hut this only lasted a
minute,. for the nest she had fallen quite senseless on the floor,
Her poor child hung over her almost paralyzed with terror, and
60 long did the faint last, that she was conveyed to her own
room, partially undressed, and laid on her bed before she at all
recovered. A brief while she had clasped Mary to her bosom,
aa if in her was indeed her only earthly comfort, and then in a
faint voice desired to be left quite alone. Mary had flung her-
self on the neck of the sympathizing Herbert Hamilton (who
had arrived just in the confusion attendant on Mrs. Greville'a
unusual illness,) and wept there in all the imcontroUed violence
of early sorrow.
Mrs. Hamilton remained some time with her afflicted friend,
for so truly could she sympathize with her, that her society
brought with it the only solace Mrs, Greville was capable of
realizing from human companionship.
" It is not for myself I murmur," were the only words that
in that painful interview might have even seemed hke com-
plaint ; " but for my poor child. How la her fragile frame and
gentle spirit to endure through trials such as these ; oh, Em-
meline, to lose both, and through their father ! "
And difficult indeed did it seem to realize the cause of such
a terrible dispensation ; but happily for Mrs. GrevUle, she
could still look up in love and trust, even when below all of com-
fort as of joy seemed departed ; and in a few days she was
enabled to resume her usual avocations, and, by an assumption
of cheerfulness and constant employment, lo restore some de
gree of peae and happiness to her child.
Neither Herbert nor Edward seemed inclined to converse on
their walk home, and Mrs. Hamilton was so engrossed in
thought for Mrs, Greville, that she did not feel disposed to
speak either. Herbert was contrasting his father with Mary s,
and with such a vivid sense of his own happier lot, that he felf
almost oppressed with the thought, he was not, he never could
be, grateful enough ; for, what had he done to be so much
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME IW^LUENCE. 105
fliore bitiss&d ? And when Mr. Hamiltonj win, wondering nl
their lonj; absence, had come out to meet them, put his arm
affectionately round him, and asked him what could po^ibly
make him look so pale and pensive, the boy's excited feelinga
completely overpowered him. He buiied his face on his
father's shoulder, and burst into tears ; and then leaving hia
mother to explain it, for he felt quite sure she could, without
his telling her, darted away and never stopped till he found
himself in the sanctuary of hia own room ; and tliere he re-
mained, trying to calm himself by earnest thought and almost
unconaciona prayer, till the dinner-bell summoned hira to re-
join hia family, which he did, quiet and gentle, but cheerful, as
usnal.
Edward did not forget the thoughts of the morning, but the
struggles so to subdue bis pride as to apologize to Eobert,
seemed very much more difficult when he was no longer hear-
ing his aunt's earnest words j but he did conquer himself and"
the fond approving look, with which he was- rewarded, gave
him such a glowing feeling of pleasure as almost to lessen the
pain of hia humiliation.
CHAPTER VI.
A FEW days after the events of the Jast chapter, Mra. Ha-
milton, accompanied by Percy, called at Moorlands. Cecil
Grabame was playing in the garden, and Percy remained with
him, his good-nature often making hira a companion, though
there was neai'ly six years' difference ia their age.
"Axe you going to T on Thursday, Percy? There will
be such fine doings, Eaces and the county fair, and wild
beasts and shows, and every thing delightiul ; of courjie, you
will go ? "
" I do not think it at all likely," replied young Hamilton.
" No ! " repeated Cecil, much astonished. " Why, I was
orly saying the other day how much I should like to be as old
as you are; it must be so delightful to be one's own master."
" I do not consider myself my own master yet, Cecil. Sorio-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
106 HOME INFLUENCE.
times I wish 1 wt re ; at others, I think I tin much better as T
am. And, as foi this fair, Mr. Howard wiO be bade to-mor-
row, so there is no cliaiice of my going."
" Why is there no such thing as the possibility of a holiday,
Percy?" replied Cecil, with great glee; "or perhaps," he
added, laughing, " your papa is like mine, and does not allow
such freaks ; thinks it wrong to go to such places, acting ^wnst
morality, and ench out-of-the-way ideas."
" Are these Mr, Graliame'a opinions ? " iaqnired Percy,
almost sternly.
" "Why ye yes why do you look at me so, Percy ? I
am sure 1 said no harm ; I only repeated what I have hpard
mamma say continually."
" That is not the very least excuse for your disrespect to
your fatlier ; and if he think thus, I wonder you should talk of
going to the races ; you cannot have his permission."
" Oh, but jiiamma has promised if I am a good boy till then,
and she can manage it, I shall go; for she cannot see any
harm in iL And as for waiting for papa's permission if I
did, I should never go anywhere. He is so unkmd, that I am
always afraid of speaking or even playing, when he i m the
"You are a silly boy, Cecil," replied young Hamilton;
" Believe me, you do not know your best fiiend I should be
very sorry to feel thus toward my father."
" Oh ! but yours and mine are very different tort of people,
Your papa never punishes you, or refuses you his permission,
wh^n you wish particularly to do any thing, or go anywhere."
" If papa thinks my wishes foolish, or liable to lead me into
error, he does refuse me without scruple,, CeciL And though
I am old enough now, I hope, so to conduct myself as to avoid
actual punishment ; when I was as young as you are, papa very
frequently pimiahQ4,me, botli for my violence and pride."
" But then he was kind to you afterward. Now I should
not so much mind papa's severity when I am naughty, if he
would only be kind, or take some notice of me when I am good.
But has Mr. Hamilton told you not to go to the races ? "
" Not exactly : he has merely said he thinks it a day most
unprofltably wasted; and that the gambling and excesses,
alwE^ys the attendant of races, are not fit scenes for yout.g per-
sons. Were I to take my horse and go, he would nol, perhaps,
be actually displeased, as I am old enough now, he says, in
some Ihings, to judge for myself; but I should be acting against
iris principles, which, just now, I am not inclined to do, for 1
'uu sure to suffer from it a^rward."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUBSCE, 107
" Weii, all I can. say, is, that when I am as old as you arc,
Percy, I shall certainly consider myself under no one. I hope
I shall be at Eton by tliat time, and then we shall see if Cecil
Grahame has not eome spirit in him. I would not be tied
down to Oakwood, and (o Mr. Howard's humdrum lessons, as
you are, Percy, for worlds."
" Take care that Cecil Grahame's spirit does not effervesce
BO much, as to make him, wlien at Eton, wish himself back al
Moorlands," replied Percy, laughing heartily at his yonng com-
panion's grotesque attempts at seF-conaequence, by placing hia
cap dandily on hia head, flourishing his cane, and trying to
malce himself look taller. Cecil teok his laugh, however, in
good part, and they continued in amicabie conversation till
Mrs. Hamilton summoued Percy to attend her home.
Our readers have, perhaps, discovered that Percy, this day
was not quite as lively as usual. If they have not, his mother
did ; for, strange to say, he walked bj her side silent ajid dis-
pirited. His thoughtlessnesa very often led him into eiTor and
its disagreeable consequences ; and, fearing this had again been
the case, she playfully inquired the cause of his most unusual
abstraction. He colored, but evaded the question, and suc-
cessfully roused himself to talk. Hia mother was not anxious,
for she had such perfect confidence in him, that she knew if he
had committed error, he would redeem it, ajid that his own
good feelings and high principles would prevent its recurrence.
It so happened, however, that young Hamilton, by a series
of rather imprudent actions, had plunged himself into such a
very unusual and disagreeable position, as Bot very well to
know how to extricate himself from it, without a full confes-
sion to his father ; which, daringly brave as in general he was,
he felt almost as if he really had not the courage to make.
One of Mr. Hamilton's most imperative commands was, that
his sons should never incur a debt, and, to preven^E the tempta-
tion, their monthly allowance was an ample one, and fully per-
mitted any recreative indulgences they might desire.
Now Percy was rather inclined to extravagancy, from thought-
lessness, and a profuse generosity, which had often caused hifli
such annoyance as to make him resolve again and again to fol-
low his father's advice, and keep some accounts of his expendi
ture, as a shght check on himself. The admiration for beauty
in the fine arts, which his mother had so sedulously cultivated,
had had only one had effect ; and that was that his passion for
prints and paintings, and illustrated and richly-bound volumes,
sometimes carried him beyond bounds, and veiy often occasioned
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
108 HOME ISFLUESCE.
regret, that he had not Qxamined the lsttr-press of such workf^
aa well a^ their engravings and bindings. He had given orders
to Mr. Harris, a large fancy stationer, librarian, and publisher
of T , to procnre for him a set of engravings, whose very
interesting subjects and beautiful workmanship Mr. Graliame
had so vividly described to him, that young Hamilton felt to
do without then! till his father or he himself should visit the
metropolis, and so judge of their worth themselves, was quite
impossible. The order was given without the least regard to
price. They arrived at the end, of the mimth, and the young
gentleman, to his extreme astonishment, discovered that, hit*
month's allowance had been so expended, as not to leave him
a halt-quarter of the necessary sum. What to do he did not
very well know. Mr. Harris had had great difficulty in pro-
curing the prints, and of course he was bound in htmor to take
thjm. If he waited till he could pay for them, he must sacri-
fice the whole of one month's allowance, and then how could
he keep free fnan debt tiU the next ? As for applying to his
father, he shrank from it with actual pain. How could he ask
his ever kind and indulgent parent to discharge a debt incurred
by such a thoughtless act of unnecessary extravagance ? Mr-
Harris made very light of it, declaring that, if Mr, Percy did
not pay him for a twelvemonth, it was of no consequence ; he
would trust him for any sum or any time he liked. But to
make no attempt to liquidate his debt was as impossible as to
speak to his fathei'. So, after a violent struggle with bis pride,
which did not at all like the idea of betraying his inability to
pay the whole, or of asking a favor of Mr, Hari'is, he agreed
to pay his debt by instalments, and so in two or three months,
at the very latest, discharge the whole.
One week afterward he received his month's allowance, and,
riding over directly to the town, reheved his conscience of half
its load. To have only half his usual sum, however, for monthly
expenditure, caused him so many checks and annoyances as
to make him hate the very sight of the prints whose possession
he bad so coveted ; but he looked forward to the next month to
be free at least of Mr. Harris the idea of disobedience to his
father in incurring a debt at all, causing him more annoyance
than all the rest.
Again the first day of the month came round, and putting
the fuU sum required in bis purse, he set off, but on his way
encountered such a scene of distress, that . every thought fied
from his mind, except how to relieve it. He accompanied the
miserable half-famished man to a hut in which lay a seemingly
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HOME INFLUENCE. 109
dyf.ig womaJ with a new-born babe, aid two or three siaaU
hall'-atarved, half-naked childrea hstenad to their story, which
was really one of truth and misfortune, not of whining deceit,
poured the whole contents of Hs purse into their laps, and rode
off to T , to find, not Mr, Harris but Mr. Maitlaud, and im-
plore hJQi to see what bis skill would do for the poor woman.
He encountered tliat gentleman at the outskirts of the town,
told his storj, and was so dehghted at Mr. Maitland's wilhng
promise to go directly, and also to rejKirt the case fo those who
would reheve it, that he never thought of any thing else till he
found himself directly opposite Mr. Harris's shop, and his
bounding heart sunk suddenly down, as impelled by a weight
of lead. The conviction Hashed upon him that he had been
giving away money which was actually not his own ; and' the
deed which had been productive of so much internal happiness,
now seemed to reproach and condemn him. He rode back
without even seeking Mr. Harris, for what could he tell him as
the reason of his non-payment ? Certainly not his having
given it away.
The first of May, which was his birthday, he had been long
engaged to spend with some young men and lads who were to
have a grand game of cricket, a jovial dinner, an adjournment
to some evening amusement, and, to conclude the day, a gay
supper, with glees and songs. Mr. Hamilton had raiher wi^ed
Percy to leave the party after dinner, and had told him so,
merely, however, as a preference, not a command, bnt giving
Him permissioa to use his own discretion. Percy knew there
would be several expenses attendant on the day, but still he
had promised so long to be one of the party, which all had de-
clared would be nothing without him, and his own inclinations
so urged him to join it, that it seemed to him utterly impossible
to draw back, especially aa he could give no excuse for doing
so. How could he say that he could not afford it ? when he
was, or ought to have been, nearly the richest of the party
and what would his father think?
He went. The day was thoroughly delightful, and so escit-
bg, that though he had started from home with the intention
of leaving them after dinner, he could not resist the pleadings
of his companions and his own wishes, and remained. At sup-
per aloae excitement and revelry seemed to have gained the
upper hand, and Percy, though steady in entirely abstaining
from all excess, was not quite so guarded as usual. A clergy-
man had lately appeared at T , whose appearance, manners,
and opinions had g^ven more than usual food for gossip, and
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much incharitableness. His cloth indeed ought to have pre
tected him, I at it rather increased the satire, savca-sm, and
lawghtjr which he excited. He was brought forward by the
ttoughtlesa youths of Percy's party, quizzed unmercifully,
made the object of some clever caricatures and satires, and
though young Hamilton at first kept aloof, he could not resist
the contagion. He dashed off about half-a-dozen verses of such
remarkably witty and clever point, that tiey were received
with roars of applause, and an unanimous request for distribu
tion.; but this he positively refused, and put them up, with one
01' two other poems of more innocent wit, in which he was foad
of indulging, into his pockets
The day closed, and the next morning brought with it so
many regrets, and such a confused recoUacfion of the very
unusual excitement of the previous evening, that he was glad
la dismiss the subject from his mind, anti threw his satire, as
he believed, into the fire. In fact, lie was so absorbed with
the disagreeable conviction that he could only pay Mr. Harris
a third of his remaining debt, trifling as in reaJity it was, that
he thought of nothing else. Now Mr. Harris was the editor
and publisher of ratker a clever weekly paper, and Percy
happened to be ia his parlor wEutdng to speak to him, while he
was paying a contributor.
"I wish my head were clever enough to get out of your
debt in th^t comfortable way," he said, half laughing, as the
gentleman left them together.
"I wish all my customers were as desirous of paying their
large debts as you are your small one," was Mr. Harris's
reply. " But 1 have heard something of your clever verses,
Mr. Percy ; if you will let me see some, I really may be able
to oblige you, as you. seem so very anxious to have nothing
more to do with me "
"In tke way of debt, not of purchases, Mr. Harris; and I
assure you, I am not thinking so much about you, as of my
own disobedience. I will send you my papers, only you must
give me your word not to publish them with my name.""
"They will not be worth so much," replied Mr. Harris,
smiling.
" Only .et me feel they have helped to discharge my debt,
or at least let me know how much more is wanted to do so,
and I win worship the muses henceforth," replied Percy, with
ihnoat Iiis natural ^ayety, for he felt he wrote better verses
than those Mr. Harris had been so liberally paying for; and
the idea of feeling free again was so very delightful, that, afttV
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receiving Mr. Harris's solemn promise not to betray his author-
etip, he galloped home, more happy than he had been for
Mr. Harris had said he must have them that evening, aniJ
Robert was leaving for the town as his young master entered
the house. He hastily put up his portfolio, and sent it off.
His conscience was so perfectly free from keeping any thing
that he afterward had cause to regret, that he did not thint of
looltiag them over, and great was his delight, when a few lines
arrived from Mr. Harris, speaking in the highest terms of his
lalent^ and saying, that the set of verses he had selected, even
without the attraction of his name, would entirely liquidate his
trifling debt.
For the next few days Percy trod on air. Ho had resolved
on waiting till the poem appeared, and then, as he really had
discharged his debt, take courage and confess the whole to his
father, for Ills Idea of truth made liim shrink from any farther
concealment. He hoped and believed that his father would
regard the pain and constant annoyance he had been enduring
60 long, as sufficient penalty for his disobedience, and after a
time give him hack the confidence, which ho feared must at his
first confession be withdrawn.
What, then, was his grief, his vexation, almost Ms despair,
when he recognized in the poem selected, the verses he thought
and believed he had burned the morning after they were writ-
ten ; and which in print, and read by his sober self, seemed
such a heartless, glaring, cruel insult, not only on a fellow-
creature, but a minister of God, that he felt almost over-
whelmed. What could he do? Mr. Harris was not to blame,
for he had made no reservation as to the contents of his port-
folio. His name, indeed, was not to them, and only having
been read lightly once to his companions of that hateful sup-
per for so he now felt it almost all of whom were not
perfectly sober, there was a chance of their never being recog-
nized as his, and as their subject did not live near any town
where the paper was likely to circulate, might never meet his
eye. But ail this was poor comfort. The paper was veiy
seldom seen at Oakwood, but ita contents were often spoken
of before his parents, and how could he endure ft reference to
those verses, how bear this accumulation of concealment, and,
as he felt, deceit, and ali sprung from the one thoughtless act
of ordering an expensive and unnecessary indulgence, without
Buffldent consideration how it was to be paid. To tell his
(ather, avow himself the author of sach a satire, and on such a
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112 HOME INFLUENCE.
Bubjed^ lie could not. Could he tell liis mother, and iinpiore
Iier ictercession ? that seemed like a want of confidence in his
father no if he ever could gain courage to confess it, it
should be to Mr. Hamilton alone ; but the more he thought,
the more, for the first time, his courage failed. It was only
the day before his visit to Lady Helen's that he had discovered
this accumulation of misfortune, and therefore it was not much
wonder he was so dispirited. Two days afterward Herbert,
with a blushing cheek and very timid voice, asked his father lo
grant him a great favor. He was almost afraid to ask it, he
said, but he hoped and believed his parent would trust his
assurance that it was for nothing improper. It was that he
might be from home next day unattended for several hours.
He should go on horseback, hut he was so accustomed to
ride, and hia horse was so steady, he hoped he might be allowed
to go alone. Mr. Hamiifon looked very much surprised, as
did all present. That the quiet, studious Herbert should wish
to give up his favorite pursuits, so soon, too, after Mr. How-
ard's return, and go on what appeared such a mysterious ex
cursion, was something so extraordinary, that various expres-
sions of surprise broke from his sisters and Edward. Percy
did look up, but made no observation. Mr. Hamilton only
paused, however, to coasult his wife's face, and then replied
"Tou cerlainly have mystified us, my dear boy; hut I freely
grant you my consent, and if I can read your mother's fece
aright, hera is not far distant You are now nearly fifteen, and
never once froia your birth has your conduct given me an hour's
pain or uneasiness ; I have therefore quite sufficient confidence
in your integrity and steadiness to trust you, as you wish, alone.
I will not even ask your intentions, for I am sure they will not
lead you into wrong."
" Thank you, again and again, my own dear father. I hope I
shall never do any thing to forfeit your confidence," replied
Herbert, so eagerly that his cheeks flushed still deeper, and his
eyes glistened; then throwing himself on the stool at his mo-
ther's feet, he said, pleadingly, " WiU you, loo, trust me, dearest
mother, and promise me not to be anxious, if I do not appear
till after our dinner-hour? promise me this, or I shall have
no pleasure in my expedition."
"Most faithfully," replied Mrs, Hamilton, fondly. "I trust
my Herbert almost as Iwould his father; I do not say as much
for this young man, nor for that," she added, playfully laying
hsr hand on Percy's shoulder, and laughing at Edwai-d, who
was so excessively amused at the sage Herbert's tuniing truant,
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.HOME raFLUENCE. US
that lie w as giving vent to a variety of most grotesque antics of
sur rise. Perey sighed so heavily that his mother was startled.
"I did not intend 1o call such a very heavy sigh, my boy,"
she said. "In an emergency I would trust you quite as im-
plicitly as Herbert ; but you have often yourself wished you had
his Steadiness."
" Indeed I do, mother j I wish I were more like him in every
tiling," exclaimed Percy, far more despoudingly than usual.
" You will be steady all in time, my boy, I have not the very
slightest fear; and as I like variety, even in my sons, I would
rather ret^n my Percy, with all his boyish errors, than have
even another Herbert. So pray do not look so sad, or I shaU
fancy 1 have given you pain, when I only spoke in jest,"
Percy threw his arm round her waist, and kissed her two or
tbreo times, without saying a word, and when he started up and
Biud in his usual gay tone, that as he was not going to turn tru-
ant the next day, he must go and finish some work, she saw
tears in his eyes. That something was wrong, she felt certain,
but stiU she trusted in his candor and integrity, and did not ex-
press her fears even to her husband.
The morrow came. Percy and Edward went to Mr. How-
ard's, and Herbert at half-past nine mounted his quiet horse, and
after affectionately embracing his mother, and again promising
care and steadiness, departed. He had risen at five this morn-
ing, and studied till breakfast so earnestly that a double portion
was prepared for the next day. He had said, aa he was staJ-t-
ing, that, if he might remain out so long, he should like to call
at Greville Manor on his way back, take tea there, and return
home in the cool of the evening.
" Your next request, my very m.odeat son, will be, I suppose,
to stay out all night," replied Mrs. Hamilton ; and that cerlainly
will be refused. This is the last to which I shall consent off
with you, my boy, and enjoy yourseff."
But Herbert did not expect to enjoy himself half as much as
if he had gone to Mr, Howard's aa usual. He did not hke to
mention his real object, for it appeared as if the chances were
so much against ite attainment, and if it were fulfilled, to speak
about it would be equally painful, from its having been an act
of kindness.
The day passed quietly, and a full hour before prayers, Her-
bert was seen ri.d!iig through the grounds, and when he entered
the usual sitting-room, he looked so happy, so animivted that, if
his parents had felt any anxiety which they had not it
would have vanished at once. But though tliey were contented
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114 HOME mPLUENCE.
not to ask him any questions, the yoong party were not, and
except by Percy, (who seemed intently engaged with a draw-
ing,) he was attacked on all sides, and, to add to their mirth,
Mr. IlamiltC'ii took the part of the curious, his wife that of
"Ah, mamma may well take Herhert's part," exclaimed the
little joyous Emmelme ; " for of course she knows all about it ;
Herbert would never keep it from her,"
" Indeed I do not 1 " and " Indeed I have not even told
mamma ! " was the reply from both at the same moment, but
the denial was useless ; and the prayer-bell rung, before any
satisfaction for the curious could be obttuued, except that from
half-past six Herbert had been very quietly at Mrs. Greville's.
That night, as Percy sat in gloomy meditation in his own
room, before he retired to bed, he felt a hand laid gently on hia
shoulder, and looking up, beheld his brother
" Have you lost all interest in me, Percy ? " asked Herbert,
with almost melancholy reproach. "If you had expressed one
word of inquiry as to my proceedings, 1 should have told you
all without the slightest reserve. You have never before been
so little, concerned for me, and indeed I do not like it."
" I could not ask your confidence, my dear Herbert, when
for the last three months I have been wanting in openness to
you. Indeed, annoyed as I am with my own folly, 1 was as
deeply interested as all the rest in your expedition, though I
guessed its object could be nothing but kindness ; but how
could I ask your secret when I was so reserved with you."
" Then do, not let ua have secrets from each other any longer,
dearest Percy," pleaded Herbert, twining his arm round his
neck, and looking with affectionate confidence in his face. "I
do not at all see why my secret must comprise more worth and
kindness than yours. You talk of folly, and I. have fancied
for some days that you are not quite happy ; but you often
blame yourself so much more than you deserve, that you do not
frighten me in the least. You smd, last night, you wished you
were more hke me ; but, indeed, if you were, I should be very
sorry. What would become of me without yoijr mirth and
liveliness, and your strength and ever-working care to protect
me from any thing hke pain, either mentally or bodily ? I
should not lie my own self for my brother at all."
" Nor I myself for mine," rephed Percy, so strangely cheer-
ed, that he almost laughed at Herbert's very novel idea, and
after listening with earnest interest to his story, took cou- age
and told hi? own. Herbert in this instance, however Ciuld
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HOME INFLUENCB. US
not comfo.'t him as successfully as usual. Tlie satire was the
terrible thing; everything else but that, even the disobedience
of tlie debt, he thought might be easily remedied by an open
confession to his father ; but that unfortunate oversight in not
looking over his papers before he sent them to Mr. Hairis, the
seeming utter impossibility to stop their circulation, was to both
these single-hearted, high-principled lada something almost
overwhelming. It did not in the least signify to either that
Percy might never be known as their author. Herbert could
not tell him what to do, except that, if he could but get suffi-
cient courage to tell their father, even if he could not help
them Ee was sure it would be a great weight oF his mind, and
then he gently reproached him for not coming (o him to help
him discharge his debt ; it was surely much better to owe a
trifle to his brother than to Mr. Harris.
" And, to gratify my extravagance, deprive you of some
much purer and better pleasure I " repUed Percy, indignantly.
" !No, ni. Bertie ; never expect me to do any such thing ; I
would rather suffer the penalty of my own faults fifty times
over 1 I wish to heaven I were a child again," he added with
almost comic ruefulness, " and had mamma to come to me every
night, aa she used to do, before I went to sleep. It was so
easy then to tell her all I had done wrong in the course of the
day, and then one error never grew into so many ; but now
it must be out before Sunday, I suppose I never can talk to
my father as I do on that day, unless it is ; but go to bed,
dear Herbert; 1 shall have your pale cheeks upon my con-
science to-morrow, too ! "
CHAPTER VII.
UB. morton'8 STonr. -
r ALWAYS JUSTICE,
" Do yon remember, Emmeline, a Mr. Morton, who ofli-
dated for Mr. Howard at Avehng, five or six weeks ago ? "
asked Mr. Hamilton of his wife, on the Saturday morning after
Herbert's mysterious excursion. The family had not ye), left
the breakfast-table.
"Psrfsetly well," was the reply; "poor young man ' lif tip
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116 HOME INFLUENCE.
pearance and panful weakness of voice called for c
tion too deeply not to be remembered."
" Is he not deformed ? " inquired Miaa Harcourt ; " there Was
something particularly piunful about his manner as be etood in
the pulpit."
"He is slightly deformed now; but not five years ago he had
a graceful, ahaost elegant figure, though always apparently too
delicate for the fatiguing mental duties in which he indulged,
He was of good family, but his parents were suddenly much
reduced, and compelled to undei^o many privations to enable
him to go to Oxford. There be allowed himself neither relaxa-
tion nor pleasure of the most trifiing and most harmless kind ;
his only wish seemed to be to repay bis parents in some degree
the heavy debt of gratitude which he felt he owed them. His
persevering study, great talent, and remarkable conduct, won
him some valuable friends, one of whom, as soon as he was or-
d^ed, presented him with a rich living In the North. For
nine months he enjoyed the most unalloyed happiness. His
pretty vicarage presented a happy, comfortable home for his
parents, and the comforts they now enjoyed, earned by the
worth of their son, amply repaid them for former privations.
One cold snowy night he was summoned to a poor parishioner,
living about ten miles distant. The road was rugged, and in
some parts dangerous j but he was not a man to shrink from Lis
duty for such reasons. He was detained eight hours, during
which time the snow had fallen incessantly, and it was pitchy
dark. Still believing he knew hia road, he proceeded, and the
next morning was found lying apparently dead at the foot of a
precipice, and ahnost crushed under the mangled and distorted
carcass of bis horse,"
An exclamation of horror burst from all the little group, ex-
cept from Pei-ey and Herbert j the face of the former was cov-
ered with his hands, and his brother seemed so watching and
feeling for him, as to be unable to join the general sympathy.
All, however, were so engrossed with Mi'. Hamilton's tale, that
neither was observed.
" He was so severely injured, that for months his very life
was despaired of. Symptoms of decline followed, and the ino-
bihty to resume his ministerial duties for years, if ever again,
compelled him to resign his rich and beautiful living in York-
shire ; and he felt himself once more a burden on his parents,
witli scarcely any hope of supporting them again. Kor was
tl'is all; his Sgure, once so slight and supple, had hecoiuf; so
si junk and .-nainied, that at first he seemed aitually to loati.o
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the Bight of his fellows. His had ahnost
thrilling, b {came wiry, and aim p'unl Dy n ; and
for some months the conflict f bmi a hi m iitable
and moat awful trial was so terr b ha h n y nk beneath
it. This was, of conrae, still m p y ca han m al, and
gradually subsided, as, after eighteen months' residence in Ma-
deira, where he was sent by a benevoleat friend, some portion
of health returned. The same benefactor established his father
in some humble but most welcome business in London; and
earnestly, on his return, did his parents persuade him to remain
quietly with them, and not undertake the ministry again ; hut
this he could not do, and gratefully accepted a poor and most
miserable parish on the moor, not eight miles from here."
"But when did you become acquimited with him, papa?"
asked Carolina ; " you have never mentioned him before."
" No, my dear ; I never saw him till the Sunday he officiated
for Mr. Howard ; but his appearance so deeply interested me,
I did not rest till I had. learned .his whole history, which Mr.
Howard had already discovered. He has been nearly a year
in Devonshire, but so kept aloof from all but his own poor pa-
rishioners, dreading the ridicule aad sneers of the more worldly
and wealthy, that it was mere accident which made Mr. How-
ard acquainted with him. Our good minister's friendship and
earnest eihorfatjons have so far overcome his too great sensi-
tiveness, as sometimes to prevail on him to visit the Vicarage,
and I trust in time equally to succeed in bringing him here."
" But what is he so afraid of, dear papa?" innocently asked
Emmeiine. " Surely nobody could be so cruel as to ridicule
him because he is deformed ? "
" Unfortunately, my dear child, there are too many who only
enter church for the sake of the sermoa and the preacher, and
to criticize severely and uncharitably all that differs from their
preconceived ideas ; to such persons Mr. Morton must be an
object of derision. And now I come to the real reason of my
asking your mother if she remembered him."
" Then you had a reason," answered Mrs. Hamilton, smiling;
" your slory has made me wonder whether you had. or not."
"I must tax your memory once more, Emmeiine, before my
cause is told. Do you recollect, for a fortnight after the Sun-
day W3 heard him, he preached twice a week at Torrington, to
oblige a very particular friend ? "
" Yes, and that you feared the increased number of the con-
ttregalion proceeded far more from curiosity than ki idlineas oi
devotisn."
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" I did say so, and my fears are confinned : some affaira
brought Slorfofl to Torrington for two orihree daya this week,
and yesterday I caDed on him, and had some hours' interesting
coaversation. He was evidently even more than usnally de-
pressed and self-shrinking, if I may use the word, and at length
touched, it seemed, by my sympathy, he drew ray attention to
a poem in Harris's ' Weekly Magazine.' "
" ' It is not enough that it has pleased my God to afflict me,'
he said, ' but my feUow-creatures must unlundly make me the
subjects of attacks such as these. There is indeed no name, but
to none else but me will it apply.' I couid not reply, for I
reaUy felt fflO deeply for liim. It waa such a cruel, wanton
insult, the very talent of the writer, for the verses, though few
in number, were remarkably clever, adding to their gall."
" 1 wonder Harris should have published them," observed
Miss Harcourt ; " his paper is not ia general of a personal
" It is never sufficiently guarded ; and it would require a
person of higher principles than I fear Harris has, to resist the
temptation of inserting a satire .likely to sell a double or treble
number of his papers. I spoke to him at once, and bought up
every one that remained ; but though he expressed regret, it
was not in a tone ili&t at all satisfied me as to his feeling it, and
of course, as the paper has been published since last Saturday
evening, the circuialion had nearly ceased. If I could but
'mow the author, I think I could make Tiim feel the excessive
cruelty, if not the actual guilt, of his wanton deed."
" But, dear papa, the person who wrote it might not have
known his story," interposed Caroline, to Edward's and EDea's
astonishment, that she had courage to speak at all ; for their
uncle's unusual tone and look brought back almost more vividly
than it had ever done before their mother's lessons of his
exceeding and terrible sternness.
" That does not excuse the ridicule, my dear child ; it only
confirms the lesson I have so often tried to teach you all, that
any thing tending by word or deed to hurt the feehngs of a fel-
low-creature, is absolutely wrong wrong in the thing itself,
not according to the greater or less amount of pain it roay
excite."
"But, my dear husband, the writer may not have been so
taught. Satire and ridicule are unhappily so popular, that
these verses may have been penned without any thought of
(heir evil tendency, merely as to the Sclal they would bring
their author. We must not be too severe, for we do xof
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'Mother! motter! do not do not speak so,, if you iiave
ever loved me I " at length, excl^med poor Percy, so choked
with his emotion, that he could only throw himself by her side,
bury his face in her lap, and sob for a few minutes like a child.
But he recovered himself with a strong effort, before either of
his family could conquer their anxiely and alarm, and, stand-
ing erect, though pale as marble, without in the least degree
attempting excuse or extenuation, acknowledged the poem as
his, aad poured out his whole story, with the sole exception of
how he had disposed of the money, with which the second
time of receiving his allowance he had intended to discharge
his debt ; and the manner in which he told that part of his tale,
from the fear that it would seem like an excuse or a boast, was
certainly more calculated to call for. doubt than belief. Her-
bert was about to speak, bwt an imploring glance from Percy
checked him.
Mr. Hamilton was silent several minutes after his son had
concluded, before he could reply. Percy was so evidently dis-
tressed had suffered so much from the consequence of his
own errors felt so intensely the unintentional publication of
his poem for lus father knew his truth far too well to doubt
his tale, ind there was something so intrinsically noble in his
brave confession, that to condemn him severely he felt as if he
could not.
"Of wilful cruelty toward Mr, Morton, your story has cer-
tainly exculpated you," he smd, as sternly as he could; "but
otheiwise you muat be yourself aware that it has given me
both grief and pain, and the more so, because you evidently
shrmk from teHmg me in what manner you squandered away
that money which would have been sufficient to have fully dis-
charged your debt six weeks ago ; I must therefore believe
there is still some deed of folly unrevealed. I condemn you to
no punishment you are old enough now to know right from
wrong, and your own feelings must conderon or applaud you.
Had you been firm, aa I had hoped you were, exampl? would
not so have worked upon you, as to tempt even the composi-
tion of your satire ; as it is, you must reap the consequences of
your weakness, ia the painful consciousness that you have
deeply wounded one, who it would seem had been already suffi-
ciently afaicted, and that confidence must for the time be broken
between us. Go, sir, the Lour of your attendance on Mr.
HowaiiS is passed."
Mj", Hamiltoa rose with the last words, and somewhat hastily
quitted tho room. Percy only ventured one look at his mothe:
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120 HOME INFLUENCE.
- that he could not bear it ,
i seen in less than a minute
tcaveraing the grounds in the dii-ection of the vicarage, at such
a rate that Edward, fleet as in general he was, could iiDt over-
take him. Herbert lingered; he could not bear that any part
of Percy's story should remain concealed, and bo told at once
how his second allowance bad been expended.
Mrs. Hamilton's eyes glistened. Percy's incoherence on
that one point had given her more anxiety than any tbing else,
and the relief the truth bestowed was inexprcBsible, Impra-
dant it was ; but there was something so lovable in such a dis
position, that she could not resist going directly to her hiisband
to impart it.
" You always bring me comfort, dearest ! " was Ms fond re-
joinder; "anxious as that boy's thoughtlessness must make
me (for what are his temptations now to what they wiU be ?)
still I must imbibe your fond belief, that with such an open,
generous, truthfiil heart, he cannot go far wrong. But what
are we to do about that unfortunate poem ? I cannot associate
with Morton, knovring the truth and yet permit him to believe
I am as ignorant of the author as himself."
" Let me speak to Percy before we decide on any thing, my
dear Arthur. Is Mr. Morton stiU at Torringtoa ? "
"No ; he was to return to Heathmore this morning."
Mrs. Hamilton looked veiy thoughtful, but she did not make
any rejoinder,
In the hour of recreation EmmeUne, declaring it was much
too hot forthe garden, sought her mother's priyate sitting-room,
with the intention of asking where she could find her fathe/.
To her great delight, the question was arrested on her lips, for
he was there. She seated herself on his knee, and rem^ed
there for some minutes without speaking only looking up in
hia face with the most coaxing expression imaginable.
" Well, Emmeline, what great iavor aie you going to ask
me?" eiud Mr. Hamilton, smiling ; "some weighty boon, I am
quite sure."
" Indeed, papa, and how do you know that ? "
" I can read it in your eyes."
" My eyes are treacherous tell-tales then, and you shall not
see them any more," she replied, laughing, and shaking her
head till her long bright ringlets completely hid her eyes and
Dlushing cheeks. " But have they told you the favor I am
going to ask ? "
"No," replied her father, joining in her laugh ; "tley leave
hat to your tongue."
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"I can read more, I thiofe," said Mrs Hamillon, "lam
very much mistaken, if I do not know what Emmehiie i^ going
to ask."
"Only that that " still she hesitated, as if afiaid tc
continue, and her mother added
" That papa will not he very angry with Percy ; Emmeline,
is not that the boon you have no courage to ask ? "
A still deeper glow mounted to the child's fair cheek, and
throwing her arms round iier father's neck, she said, coasingly
and fondly
" Mamma has guessed it, dear papa ! you must, indeed, you
must forgive him poor fellow! he is so ver^ sorry, and he
has suffered so much already and he did not throw away hi?
money foolishly, as you thought ; he gave it to some very poor
people and you are always pleased when we are eharitahle ;
pray forget every thing else but that, and treat him as you
always do, dear papa will you not ? "
" I wonder which is most cerfain that mamma must be a
witch, or Emmehne, a most eloquent httle pleader," said Mr,
Hamilton, caressingly stroking the ringlets she had disordered,
"and suppose, after to-day, I do grant your request what
then?"
" Oh, you will he such a dear, darling, good papa ! " ex-
claimed Emmeline, almost suffocaling liim with kisses, and then
starting from his knee, she danced about the room in a perfect
ecstasy of delight; "and Percy will be happy again, and we
shall all he so happy. Mamma, dear mamma, I am sure you
wiU be glad too."
"And now, Emmeline, when you have danced yourself sober
again, come baek to your seat, for as I have listened to and
answered you, you must listen to and answer me."
In an instant she was on his knee again, quite quiet and
attentive.
" In the first place, do you think Percy was justified making
Mr. Morton an object of satire at all, even if it should never
tave left his own portfolio ? "
" No, papa, and I am quite sure, if he had not been rather
more excited and and heedless than usual which was
very likely he should be, you know, papa, after such a day of
nothing but pleasure he would never have done such a thing;
I am sure he did not think of hurting Mr. Morton's feelings ;
he only wanted to prove that he was quite as clever as his com-
panions; and that was very natural, y(u know, when he is sg
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
122 HOME INFLUENCL.
clever at such tilings. But my brother Percy willingly ridiiiule
3 clergyman ! no, uo, dear papa, pray do not believe it."
" Well defended, my little girl ; but how do you justify his
disobeyiag my commands, and incurring a debt ? "
Emmeline was silent. "He was very wrong to do tliat,
papa ; but I am sure, when he ordered the engravings, be did
not intend to disobey you, and you know be is naturally very
I mean a little impatient."
" Still on the defensive, Emmeliae, even against your bettei
judgment. Well, well, I must not make you condemn youi
brother ; does he know what an eloquent pleader be has in bis
sister ? "
"Mo, papa; and pray do not tell him."
" And why not ? "
" Because be might think it was only for my sake you for-
gave bim, and not for liis own ; and I know I should not like
that, if I were in his plaee."
" He shall know nothing more than you desire, my dear bttle
^rl," repbed her father, drawing ber closer to bim, with almost
involuntary tenderness. " And now will you try and remember
what I am going to say. You wish me only to think of Percy's
kind act in giving bis money to tbe poor people ; but I should
have been better pleased in this case, had be been more jiist,
and not so generous. I know it is not unfrequently said by
young persons, when they think they are doing a charitable
act, and can only do it by postponing the payment of their
debts ' Ob, Mr. So-and-so baa plenty of business, be can af-
ford to wait for bis money, but these poor creatures are starv-
ing.' Now this ia not generosity or charity, but actual injustice,
and giving away money which is literally not their own. I do
not believe Percy thought so, because I have no doubt be for-
got Itfr. Harris, at the time, entirely ; biit still, as it was a mere
impulse of kindness, it does not please me quite so much as it
does you."
" But it was charity, papa, was it not ? You have said that
whenever we are kind and good to the poor, God is pleased
with us ; and if Percy did not intend to wrong Mr. Harris, and
only thought about relieving the poor family, was it not a good
feeling ? "
('It was; but it might have been still worthier. Suppose
Percy had encountered this case of distress when on his way
to order his engravings, and to enable him to relieve it as he
wished, be bad given up the purchasing them. That he found
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 123
he could not 'afford the two, and so gave up the one mere indi-
vidual gratification, to succor some unhappy fellow-creatures ;
would not that have been still worthier ? and fay the conquest
of his own inclinations rendered his charity still more accepta-
ble to God? Do you quite understand me, Emmy?"
" I think I do, dear papa ; you meaa that, tliough God is so
good, He is pleased whenever we are eharitahle. He is still
better pleased when to be so. gives us a Htttle pain."
" Very well explained, w.j little giri ; so you see in this in-
stance, if Percy had been just before he was generous, and then
to be generous, had denied himself some pleasure, his conduct
would not have given us or himself any pain, but have been
quite as worthy of all the prme you could bestow. And now
I wonder how mamma could have discovered so exactly what
favor you had to ask ? "
" Oh, mamma always knows, all my feelings and wishes,
almost before I know them myself, though I never can find out
" Shall I tell you, Emmeline ? Your mother has devoted
hours, weeks, months, and years to studying the characters of
all her children ; so to know them, that she may not only be
able to guide you in the path of good, but to share all yom*
little joys and sorrows, to heighten the one and guard you from
the other. Ought you not (o be very grateful to your Father
in Heaven for giving you such a mother ? "
His child made no answei: in words, but she slipped from his
knee, and darting to her mother, clasped her little arms tight
round her neck, and hid her glowing cheeks and tearful eyes in
her bosom. And from that hour, as she felt her mother's
fond return of that passionate embrace, her love became reli-
gion, though she knew it not. Her thoughts flew to her cou-
sins and many othersj who had no mother, and to others whoso
mothers left them to nurses an 1 governesses, and seemed always
to keep them at a distance. And she felt^ How could she
thank and love God enough F Nor was it the mere feeling cf
the moment, it became part of her being, for the right momenl
had been seized to impress it.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HUME INFLUXCE.
CHAPTER Vni.
' PROrOSAL. TUE MYSTEET SOLVED. A
TATilBR'a GRIEF FROM A MOTHER'S WEAKNESS. A FA-
THER'S JOT PROM A mother's inflttknce.
Meanwhile the young heir of Oakwood had passed no very
pleasant day. His thotiglits since Mr. Howard's return had
been so preoccupied, that his studies had been uausually neg-
lected; ao much so, as rather to excite the displeasure of his
geatle and forbearing preceptor. The emotion of the momiag
had not tended to steady his ideas, and a severe reproof and
long imposition was the consequence. Not one word did he
deign to address Herbert and Edward, who, perceiving him
leave the Vicarage with every mark of irritation, endeavored,
during their walk home, to soothe him. His step was even
more rapid than that in which he had left home, and he neither
stopped cor spoke till he had reached his father's library, which,
fortunately for the indulgence of his ire in words, was untenant-
ed. He dashed his cap from his brow, flung his books with
violence on the ground, and burst forth
"Am I not a fool an idiot^ thus to torment myself, and for
one act of folly, when hundreds of boys, at my age, are entirely
their own masters? do what they please spend what they
please neither questioned nor reproved and that poem
how many would glory in its authorship, and not care a whit
whom it might wound. Why am I such a fool, as to reproach
myself about it, and then he punished, like a school-boy, with
an imposition to occupy me at home, because I did not choose
toleamin the hours of study ? Not choose 1 1 wish Mr. How-
ard could feel as I have done to-day, nay, all this week 5 and I
challenge him to bore his head with Greek and tatinl But
why am I so cowed as to feel so ? Why cannot I have the same
spirit as others instead of being such a slave such a "
" Percy ! " exclaimed Mrs. Hamilton, who, having sought him
the moment she heard the hall-door close, had heard nearly the
whole of his violent speech, and was almost alarmed at the un-
usual passion it evinced. Her voice of astonished expostulation
ihecked his words, but not his agitation; he threw himself on
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME IHFLUliNCE. l-'O
a cbEur, leaaing his ai-ms upon the table, bimed his face upon
iliem, while his whole frame shook. Ills mother sat down by
him, and laying her haad on his arm, said gently
"What is it that has so imtated you, my dear Percy? "What
has made you return home in such a very different mood to that
in which you left it? Tell me, my boy."
Percy tried to keep silence, for he knew if he spoke he
should, as he expressed if, be a child again, and his pride tried
hard for victory. Even his father or Herbert at that moment
would have chafed him into increased aBger, but the almost
passionate love and reverence which he felt for his mother tri-
umphed over his wrath, and told liii" he was much more un-
happy than angry ; and that he longed for her to comfort him,
as she always had done in his childish griefs ; and so he put his
arms round her, and hud his head on her shoulder and said, in
a half-choked voice,
" I am very unhappy, mother ; I feel as if I had been every
thing that was bad, and cruel, and foohsh, and so it was a relief
to be in a passion 5 but I did not mean you to bear it, and cause
you more grief than I have done already."
" Tou have been very thoughtless, very foolish, and not quits
so iirm as we could have wished, ray own dear boy, but I will
not have you accuse yourself of any graver faults," replied Mrs.
Hamilton, as she lightly pushed back the clustering hair fiwm
his heated forehead, and the gentle touch of her cool hand
seemed as restorative as her soothing words ; and Percy, as he
listened to her, as she continued speaking to him in die same
striun for some little time, felt more relieved than five minutes
before he thought possible, and more than ever determined that
he would never act so thoughtlessly; or, if he were tempted to
do so, never keep it concealed so long again. Mrs. Hamilton's
anxious desire with him was, always to do justice to his better
qualities, at the same time that she blamed and convinced Mm ,
of his faults. It was a very dehcate thing, and very difficult to
succeed in, perhaps impossible to minds less pecuharly refined,
and hearts less intensely anxious than Mrs. Hamilton's ; but no
difBculty, no ffulure, had ever deterred her and in Percy she
was already rewarded. He was of that high, fine spirit^ that
any unjust harshness would have actually coifirraed in error
any unguarded word bring argument on argument, and so, for
the mere sake of opposition, cause him to abide in his opinions,
when the 'acknowledgment of his being right in some things,
produced the voluntary confession of his error in othera.
"And noV about these unfortunate verses, my dear boy; 1
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
126 HCME INFLUENCE.
am not quite clear as to their fate, how it happened ti^t you
did not destroy them directly yon returned home."
"I fully intended, and believed I had done so, mother, bul
the whirl of that night seemed to estnd to the morning, and I
di-essed and prepai-ed for Mr. Howard in such a hurry (I had
overslept myself, too) that though I had quite resolved they
should not pollute my pocket-book any longer, I had no time to
look over my papers thought 1 could not be mistaken in their
outside burnt those I really wished to keep, and threw those
which have caused me all this pain inla my portfolio. If I had
but been fimi enough to have followed my father's advice, and
left ray companions before supper ! or, if I did join them, had
not been so weak, so mad, as to yield to the temptation, but
adhered to my principles, notwithstanding they might have
been laughed at, I might have been spared it all ; but I was so
excited, so heated, with a moro than sufficient quantity of wine,
that I did not know what I was about not its extent of
wrong, at least."
" And you have suffered enough for an evening's excitement,
ray poor boy ; but I ara sure you would atone for it, if you
"Atone for it, mother ! I would give all I possess to cancel
that odious poem, and blot it from Mr. Moj ton's memory, as
tVom my own."
"And I think yoii can do both, Percy."
He looked at her in utter bewilderment.
" Do both, mother 1 " he repeated.
" Yes, my boy 1 it is a painful remedy, but it would be an
effectual one. Seek Mr. Morton, and tell him yourself your
whole story."
Percy crimsoned to the very temples.
" Do not ask roe such a thing, mother," he answered very
Hurriedly ; " I cannot do iL"
" You think so at this moment, my dear boy ; I am not at
all astonished that you should, for it will be very humihating,
and very painful ; and if I could spare you either the humilia-
tion or the pain, yet produce the same good effects, I need not
tell you how gladly I would ; but no one can remove the sling
of that poem from Mr. Morton's sensitive feelings hut yourself;
and I am quite sure if you will allow yourself a little time for
quiet thought, you will agree with me."
" But why should I inflict such pain upon myself, granting I
deserve it ? " answered Percy, still much heated ; " when,
rtiough my poem is the only one that has unfortunately met his
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOML INFLUENCE. 127
eye, tie others were quite as gaUing and my companiona quita
as much to blame why should I be the sufferer ? "
" Because, by many errors, you have brought it on yourself.
Your companions did indeed act very wrongly, bnt are we quite
sure that tte principles which your father and Mr. Howard
have so carefully impressed upon you, have been as carefully
impressed upon them ? aad in such a case are not you the more
responsible ? They had evidently no inward check to keep
them from such an amusement ; you had, for you have ec
knowledged that you kept aloof at first, knowing it was wrong,
and only yielded from want of sufficient firmness. Inflict the
pain of an avowal upon yourself, my boy and its memory will
help you in future from yielding to too great weakness and
the act prove to us thai, though for a moment led into great
error, you are sfill as brave and honest as we believe you."
Percy did not reply, but his countenance denoted an inward
struggle, and his molier added
" Suppose, as is very likely, Mr, Morton becomes intimate
here, faow can yoii, with your open, truthful heart, associate
with him, with any comfort or confldenee eve^i though perfectly
satisfied that we would not betray you, and that he would never
know the truth? You may fancy now that you could, but I
liaow my Percy better ; but I must not talk te you any more,
for the dressing-bell rang some minutes ago. Eemember, my
dear boy, that I lay no command on you to seek Mi'. Morton;
I have only told you that which I beheve would restore you
to happiness and atone for your faults, more efiectaally than
any thing else ; but you are quite at hberty to act aa you think
proper."
She left the room aa she spoke, but Percy remained for some
few minutes longer in deep thought, and when he prepared for
dinner, and joined his family, it was still in the same unbroken
silence. Mr. Hamilton took no notice of him, and two or three
times the little afiectionate Emmeline felt the tears rising to hei
eyes, for she could not bear to see that brother, who was in
general the life of the family group, so silent and abstracted.
Sliding after him, as he quitted the i-oom after dinner, she
took his hand, and looked coaxingly in lis face, longing, but not
daring to tell him her father's promise, for fear he should dis-
cover her share in the transaction.
" "Wen, dear Emmy ? "
"Are you going to take a walk, Percy? let me go with
JOQ."
" I do not think I am, love. I may be going to ride."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
128 HOME INFLULKCE.
" To ride I " repeated the Ettie girl ; " will it be worth while ? "
"You forget, Emmy, it fe Bummer now, I have full four
hours before prayers ; but do not say any thing about my ir-
tenfiona, Eromeline, for I do not know thera myself yet."
He kissed her forehead and left her, and a few minutes after-
ward she was summoned lo join her mother, Caroline, and El-
len, in a walk. They sauntered through the grounds in the
direction of the northern lodge, which opened on the road lead-
ing to Dartmoor ; when, not a quarter of an hour after they had
left the house, they were overtaken by Percy, riding' ^t what
seemed almost a hand gallop, but he had time as he passed his
mother to gracefully doff his cap, and her fond heart throbbed,
as she caught the expression of his flushed, but earnest face.
He was out of sight in another moment, followed by Eobert,
who was the lads' constant attendant.
Before they had concluded their walk, they met Mrs. Greville
and Mary, and returned with them to the house. Emmeline,
who had not seen Mary for nearly a fortaighl, was inan ecstasy
of enjoyment, and Ellen always felt it a real pleasure quietly
to walk by Mary's side, and answer the many questions with
which she always contrived to interest her. On entering the
house, Mr. Hamilton, Herbert, and Edward joined them, and
Mrs. Hamilton was somewhat surprised at the even more than
Ordinary warmth with which her son was greeted by her friends,
and at the flush wMeh stained his cheek at Mrs. Greville's first
words
" You were not too much fatigued last Thursday, 1 hope, my
dear Herbert?" she inquired, an5 as she looked at him, her
eyes glistened in tears.
" Oh, not in the least," he replied instantly, and as if he would
exceedingly like to change the subject; but Mrs. Greville,
turning to Mrs. Hamilton, continued
"Will you forgive me, Emmeline, if I confess that my visit
this evening was more to inquire after your son, than even to
see you. I was so anxious to know that he had suffered no
inconvenience from his unusual, and I am sure fatiguing, exer-
" I suppose I must no be jealous, as you are so candid," re-
plied Mrs. Hamilton, smiling ; " but I feel very much inclined
to be so, finding that you are more in my son's confidence than
I am myself. I know Herbert was from home fin Thursday,
but 1 was not aware of any particular exertion on his part."
" Did you not know then where he went?" exclaimed Mary
and her mother at the same moment; and the former con-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 129
tiuued, with unusual eagerness, "Did you not know that lie
went to the races, to try and hear something of Alfred ? and
that by hunting about both tlie fair and the race-ground
scenes which I know he so much dislikes he actually fo"jud
him, and amused liim so successfully, that he kept him with
him all day. Papa was so engaged that he had no time to
look after Alfred, who, from being lefi entiivdy to himself,
might have sought the worst companions ; I cannot think what
charm Herbert used, but Alfred was quite contented to be with
him ; lliey dined together, and "
" He brought me what, next to my boy himself, was the
greatest consolation I could have," interposed Mrs. Greville,
her voice so faltering, that tears almost escaped, "a few lines
which, he assures me, Alfred thought of wiiting himself, teUing
me, he could not bear to think ha had left home without kissing
me, and that, though he was so happy with his father, that he
could not wish to return home, he BtiU loyed me and Maiy
very, very much, and would continue to love us, and come
aud see us, whenever be could. Oh, Emmeline, can you not
imagine the relief of such a letter, of hearing of him at all ?
and it was all through the kindness, the goodness of your boy 1 "
When Mrs. Greville and Mary had first begun to speak,
Herbert tried to reti-eat; but Edward placing himself against
the door, so tliat to open it was impossible, and Caroline and
Emmeline, both at once catching hold of him, to keep hira
prisoner, egress was not to be thought of; so, in laughing de-
spair, he broke from his sisters, flung himself on his usual seat,
his mother's stool, and almost bid himself in her dress.
" It must have been a relief, indeed," answered Mr, Hamil-
ton ; " and rejoiced am I that my quiet Herbert thought of such
a plan. Look up, Master Shamefaced, and tell us the reason
of your most extraordinary mystery on . this occasion. Why
did you so carefuDy conceal your intentions from your mother
and myself?"
"Because, papa, I feared you might not approve of them ;
I hardly dared think about it myself, for it seemed as if I were
doing actually wrong in disregarding your principles, for only
the chance of effecting good, I know, if I had mentioned my
wish to find Alfred, or hear something about him, you would
not have refused my going ; but then mamma must have known
it, and she would have been anxious and uncomfortable, if I
had not appeared the veiy moment I had named; would you
not ? " he continued, looking up in her face with that expression
of affection, which very few, even comparative strangerS; had
power to resist.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
ISO HOME fflFLUENCT;.
"I should indeed, my dear boy; I fear I should hare con-
demned your scheme as a very wild one, and really am glad
you thought so much of my comfort, as not to tell me more
than you did. So I must not even be jealous, Jessie, but ralher
propose a vote of thanl^s lo you and Mary for solving the mys-
tery. I do not think Herbert ever excited so much curiosity
and Bpeculatiou, in his life, before,"
The entrance of Mr. Grahaiae changed the current of the
conversation, greatly to Herbert's relief, for he did not at all
lilie being thus brought forward. Austere as Grahame was at
home, he was always welcomed with pleasure by the young
Hamilfons, who never could understand why Annie and Ceed
should so fear him. That something unusual liad annoyed him,
Mr. Hamilton perceived at the first glance; but he took no
notice, for Grahame seemed to find relief in talking gayly to
the young people.
" And where is my friend Percy ? " he inquired, as he joined
the happy group at tea, and Percy was still absent. Mr. Ha-
milton repeated the question in some surprise ; but hia wife re-
plying that he had gone to ride, and might not be back yet, the
subject dropped.
After tea, Mrs. Greville and Mary, attended by Herbert and
Edward, returned to the Manor ; and the Kttle girls went to
finish some business for the next day, and amuse themselves as
they iiked. Grahame remained aJone with his friends, who at
length drew from him the cause of his soKcitude. He had, that
morning, discovered that, notwithstanding his positive com-
mands, Cecil had gone to the prohibited places of amusement.
His wife had prevaricated when he questioned her; at one
moment almost denying her connivance at the hoy's disobedi-
ence, at another unconsciously acknowledging it, by insisting
that there was no harm in it ; and if Graliame would persist in
so interfering with his children's amusements, he must expect
to be disobeyed. If such were hia home, where was he tc
look for truth, honor, and affection ? What would be his son's
after career, if such wei-e the lessons of his childhood ? He
had punished him severely, but there was little hope of its pro-
incing any good effect, when his wife was yet more to blame
than his cluld. It would only alienate the boy's affections still
more from him. Yet what coald he do ? Could he let such
disobedience and untruthfulness for Cecil had denied his
having been at the races pass unnoticed? He had shut
himself up m his library tlie remainder of the day ; but at
length, unable to bear Lis own thoughts, had wallied ove] tc
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLDENC;. 131
Oakwood, feeling sure, if peace were to be found, lie sliojld
nd it tliere.
Their symp.ithy it was easy for Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton to
pve for they felt it sincerely but to advise was both deli-
cate and difficult. To interfere in a household is not the part
even of the most intimate friends. And when Lady Helen
herself encouraged the boy in his disobedience, and showed him
an example of equivocation, what could be said? Grahame
could not bear the idea of a public school for a boy searcely
eleven, and whose homo influence was so injurious, and Mr.
Hamilton could not advise it. He tried, therefore, merely to
raise the depressed spirits of his friend, bringing forward many
instances, when even the best training failed; and others where
the faults of childhood were subdued by circumstajices, and
became fair promising youth. Grahame shook his head de-
spondingly.
" You can scarcely be a fit judge of my trial, Hamilton," he
said ; " you Iiave known nothing but the blessing of hand-in-
hand companionship, in the training of your children, as in
every thing else. There must be unit^ between father and
mother, or there is little hope of joy in their offspring for
either ; were my wife only in some things hke yours but I
see I must not speak so," he added hurriedly, as he met a
glance of reproach, from Mrs. Hamilton, and he turned to ad-
dress the two lads, who at that instant entered from their walk.
The bell for prayers rung soon afterward, and Grahame rose
to say good night.
" Nay, stay with us," said Mr. Hamilton, earnestly. " Why
should the caU for devotion be the signal for separation ? join
us, Grahame. It is not the first time by very many that we
have prayed together."
Grahame yielded without an instant's hesitation. Still
Percy had not returned, and his mother -became dreadfully
anxious. Her husband, at her request, waited a quarter of an
hour, but reluctantly ; for he was more particular that every
member of his household should assemble at the stated hour of
prayer, than in any othor point relating to his establishment.
Scarcely, however, had the first word been sjiid, when Ptrcy
and Robert entered, and the former, with a very rapid, but
Doiseless step, traversed the lai^e room, and kneeled in hia ac-
customed place. In vain did Mrs. Hamilton try lo keep her
thoughts fixed on the service. Had he really been to Mr.
Morton, aiid if he had, how had he been ri!ceived ? had hia
fine spirit been soothed or irritated? and a thousand clhoi'
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
132 HOME INFLUEJ^'JE.
ntuteleas but natural feara tlironged her heart. But one loob
on her son as he rose reassured her ; his cheek was flushed
with rapid riding, but his dark eye sparkled, and he looked
more bright and joyous than he had done for weeks. Ho
advanced witlicut hesitation to Mr, Hamilton the moment the
domestics had quitted the library and said, eagerly, but still
respectfully
" Will you, too, forgive me, my deac father ? Mr. Morton
knows the whole truth, and has not only pardoned my cruel
folly, but assured me, that I have more than atoned for the pain
my hateful verses inflicted ; that he will laugh at them him-
self, and declare he knows their author as a most particular
friend which he hopes you will permit me to become
whenever he has the opportunity ; for that such notice of them
will be the surest way to consign them to oblivion, I have en-
dured so much ptun the last few weeks that I do not think I
shall be so thoughtless and weak in a hnny agmn. Will you
try me once more ? "
Astonished and touched, far more than he was ever in the
habit of allowing himself to feel, much less to display, Mr. Ha-
milton had some difficulty ia replying; but his words were
even more than satisfactory to his son's eager heart, for he
answered earnestly
" Pray, do not give me any prsuse for my courage, papa ; I
am quite sure, if it had not been for mamma's suggestion, I
never could have done it. It might have crossed my mind, but
I fear pride would not have permitted me to listen to it ; but
when mamma put the case before me as she did, I could not
prevent my conscience from feeling the truth of all she said,
and if I haA not followed her advice, I should have been more
miserable still. Dearest mother," he continued, as he turned
with even more than bis usual affection to receive her nightly
embrace, "you have made me so happy! how can I thank
you ? "
K she made him happy, he cert^nly had retnmed the bless-
ing, for Mrs. Hamilton had seldom feit more exquisite pleasure
than she did at that moment ; and her little Emmehne, though
she could not quite understand all her mother's feelings, felt, in
her way, almost as glad.
" Well, Mrs. Hamilton, wiU not your son's words confirm
mine?" said Mr. Grahame trying to apeak cheerfully when
the young party had retired, and he was again alone w th his
friends^ " Can he go far wrong with such a friend ? "
" Indeed, he has done me more than justice, and himself n t
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HOME INFLUENCE. 133
enough. When I left him, I had scarcely a hope that my veTy
disagreeable ad.Tice would be followed ; besides, Mr. Gratame,''
she addetl, more playfuDy, " it was not from disagreeing witli
you on a mother's influence liiat my look reproached you, you
know well enough what it meant ; and I stOI aay, that even
now, if you woald but be less reserved and stern, would but
Bee Helen's. many better qualities, as clearly as you do her
faults, you might still win her lo your will even with regard fo
your children."
"Not now, Mrs. Hamilton, it is too late ; but you have no
idea how your look transported me back to years past," he
added evidently resolved to change the subject, "when I actu-
ally almost feared to approach you. Do you remember, Ha^
milton, when I told you, if Miss Manvers had a fault, she was
too cold ? "
"I shall not easily forget the incidents of that night," replied
Mr. Hamilton, with a fond glance towards his wife. "Pooi
Eleanor, when her conduct that evening feU under my lash, I
little thought her orphan children would be living under my
roof, and to me almost like my own,"
"And one her very image," observed Grahame. "Does
either resemble her in mind or disposition?"
" Edward almost as much in mind as in personal beauty," re-
plied Mrs. Hamilton. "But not in all points of his disposition.
EUen does not resemble her poor mother in any thing."
"Is she like her father?"
"I did not know him sufficiently to judge, but I fancy not.
In fact, I hardly yet understand Ellen."
"Indeed!" answered Grahame, smiling; "is your penetrative
genius here at fault ? "
"I fear it is," she answered, in the same tone; "Ellen is my
youngest child and that which has been my successful help
five limes, has become blunted at the sixth, and refuses to aid
me further,"
" Grahame, do not heed her," interposed her husband, laugh-
ing ; " she fancies there is something extraordinary about Ellen,
which she cannot comprehend ; and I feel certain that imagina-
Ijcn has been playing with my wife's sober judgment, and that
our little niece is a very ordinary child, only rather more sad
and quiet than is usual at her age, which may be easily ac-
counted for by her early trials and constant ill-health. Sol
solve what my wife pronounces a mystery. She !i!W so few
fancies, however, that I do not quarrel with tliis, for i' has iiU
the charm of novelty."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
IS4 HOJIH INFLUKNCH.
There were more than usual subjects of tliougut va Jie miads
of all the young inmates of Oakwood, before they went to sieep
that night. Percy's, Herbert's, and Emmeline's were all pecu-
liarly happy and peaceful. Caroline's were not so agreeable.
Pnuse lavished on othei-s never gave her pleasure : the ques-
tioQ would always come, Why did she not receive it too ? It
was very hard that she so seldom received it, and self-love was
Blways ready to aocuse her parents of some degree of partiality,
rather than herself of unworthiness. But these thoughts only
came when she was alone; the moment she heard her father's
voice, or met her mother's smile, they fled from her till they
were pertinaciously recalled.
Ellen thought mostly of Herbert. She had been as curious
as the rest to know where he had been, though she had not saitl
so much about it. But that it was for some good, kind deed
she had never doubted.
"No wonder Mary loves him so much," she said internally!
"hut how can I ever hope he will love one so often naughty as
I am. If Edward be so much superior, what must Herbert
be? How I wish I were his sister, and then he would love me,
deserving or not."
That poor Ellen was often thought, as she expressed it,
"naughty" was true; and it was this mingling of many appa-
rent faults, especially disregard to her aunt's commands, and
but too often endeavor to conceal and equivocate, instead of an
open confession, with a sorrow and repentance too deep and
painful for her years, that so fairly bewildered Mrs. Hamilton,
and really, as she t.-id told Mr. Grahame, prevented her from
understanding Ellen. If she could but have known of that un-
fortunate promise, and the strong hold it had taken of the child's
vived imagination; that by dwelling on it she had actually
jnade herself believe that, by always shielding Edward from
blame or punishment, she was obeying and making her mother
love her from heaven, and so, stiU. more deepening her father's
affection for her ; and that this idea enabled her to bear the
Buffering of that most pamful of all punishments, her aunt's dis-
pleasure, Mrs. Hamilton would have left no means untried to
remove such a mistaken impression, and no doubt would have
Buceeeded ; but she had not the slightest conception of the real
origiii of her niece's incomprehensible contradictions. She had
believed and hoped the influences of her earlier life would dis-
appear before the quiet, wholesome routine of the present, and
often and often she found herself fearing that it could not he
only maternal neglect, but actual disposition, at fault. When
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HOME INFLUENCE. 131
RW.pmced of the great importance of truth, Ellen f:equei:tly,
insteaa of attempting to conceal what Edward might Live heed-
lessly done, actually took it upon herself, not being able to de-
fine that in such self-sacrifice she was also forfeitiag truth; or,
if she did believe so, it was also clear, tliat to tell the real truth
to her aunt and betray Edward, was breaking her solemn pro-
mise to her mother ; and, either way, she was doing wrong. To
describe or define the chaos in the poor child's mind, from these
conteading feelings, would be almost as impossible to us as it
was to herself. She only knew that she was often naughty
when she most wislied to be good ; that her aunt must think she
did not care for her displeasure ; when it made her so very un-
happy, that she was scarcely ever in disgrace without being ilL
That she never could feel happy, for even when "good" there
always seemed a weight hajigiag over her, and therefore she
must be different to, and worse than anybody else. Little do
mere superficial observers know the capabilities for joy or suf-
fering in a young child's heart, the exquisitely tender germ
which is committed to us ; tJie awful responsibility which lies in
the hands of adults, for the joy or grief, good or evil, as the
portion of a child ! Happily for EUen, Mrs. Hamilton's love
was as inexhaustible as her patience, or her niece might have
been still more unhappy, for few would have so understood and
practised the dehcate and difficult task of constantly being call-
ed upon to correct^ and yet to love.
Our young readers must not think Edward very cowai-dly
and very dishonorable, always to let his sister bear the penalty
of his faults. He had never been taught, and therefore could
not understand, the imperative necessity, when guilty of heed-
lessness or disobedience, boldly to step forward, whether others
were injured or not, and avow it. He did not understand how
not to say any thing about it, unless he was asked, could be a
want of truth.
It was also Mrs. Hamilton's constant custom never to mention
to the members of her family, who might have been absent at
the time, any thing of fault or disgrace which had faOen under
her own immediate jurisdiction, unless their nature absolutely
demanded it ; and the absence of the young offenders from the
happy family circle, either at meals or hours of recreation, when
fiueh an unusual proceeding was necessary, in consequence,
lever excited any remark, but a very general feeling of regret.
Edward, therefore, scarcely ever heard the actual cause of his
sister's disgrace, and sometimes did not even know she had
incurred it. He did, Indeed, when she was sometimes absent.,
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
136 HOME INFLDLNGE.
feel very uncomfortable ; but his immovablu awe of ]iia really
indulgent uncle (an impreaaion of his mother's creating, quite as
Btrong aa Ellen's idea of the sanctity of her promise) caused him
to adopt every means of removing the uncomfortable conscious-
ness that lie was far more to blame than Ellen, but the right
one, a fearless inquiry as to why she was punished, and an open
avowal that it was he who had either led her into error, or was
the real offender. His thoughts on Percy's conduct were very
different to those of his cousins.
"No!" he exclaimed, almost aloud, in the energy of his feel-
ings, " no I I would have suffered any thing, every thing, rather
than have done this seek Mr. Morton, humble myself by
avowing the truth to him, and ask his pardon for a mere clever
joke, that Percy ought to have been proud of, instead of regret-
ting ! If I did not know him well, I should believe him a craven
milk-and-water lad, without a particle of the right spirit within
him. Wlat could have possessed him? my uncle's look
must have inghtened him out of his sober senses; to be sure
it was very terrible ; poor mamma was, indeed, right as to his
unbending sternness ; but I think I could have dared even hia
anger, rather than beg Mr. Morton's pardon, when there really
was no necessity." And sleep overtook him, with the firm con-
viction resting on his mind, &at though in some things Percy
might be his equal, yet in manliness and spirit, he (Edwai-d)
was decidedly the superior.
CHAPTER IX.
. FALSEHOOD AND
It was the Christmas vacetion always a happy season in
the halls of Oaiwood. The previous year, the general juvenile
party with which Mr. and Mrs. Hamflton indulged their child-
ren on the first or sixth of January, as circumstances permitted,
had not taken place on account of Mrs. Fortescue'a death, and
was therefore this year anticipated with even more than usual
joy. Caroline and Emmeline ifere never permitted to go to
mdiscriminate parties. Two or three, really confined to child
ren, then mother allowed their joining, with Miss Harcoiut,
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 137
iu the course of the year, but their own ball was always con-
Biilored the acme of enjoyment, especially now that Carohne
begaa to fancy herself very much too old for only children's
parties. Annie went almost everywhere with Lady Helen,
and quite laughed at the idea of joining childrea; aad Caroline
this year began to wish most intensely that her mother would
take her out to grown-up parties loo, and lost all relish for the
pleasant pai'ties she had enjoyed. Mrs. Hamilton never
obliged her to go out with Emmehne and EUen, if she really
did not wish it ; but Caroline could rot get any farther in con-
sidering herself a woman.
The week before Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton did not
allow to be all holiday and amusement. The season was lo
tlieir feelings of religion, one of earnest, intense thankfulness,
and they wished to make it equally so to their children a
source of joy and hope indeed, but the joy and hope of Heaven,
not the mere amusements and pleasures of earth. They bad
thought long and tried earnestly to make their children so to Jove
serious things, aa never to associate them with gloom or sad-
ness never to fancy that to be truly and spiritually religious
demanded a relinquishment of the joys and pleasures and inno-
cent happiness of their age, and admirably had they succeeded.
Christmas week was always anticipated with quiet gladness,
for they were still more with their fether and mother j and the
few serious readings and lessons they had, were from and with
thorn alone ; Miss Harcourt^a time was then entirely her own.
As soon as Christmas-day was passed, the young party, wiUi
the sole exception of two hours' work by themselves, in the
morning or some part of the day if the mornings were wantoJ
(for Mrs. Hamilton never permited aU duly to be suspended,
believing and her children had experienced the wisdom of
the belief that pleasure and recreation were infinitely more
enjoyable after the performance of some duty, however brief
and easy, than had they nothing to do but to amuse themselves
all day) were allowed to be just as free, happy, and noisy as
they pleased ; and the exuberance of their innocent happiness
would have been envied by many, who might have thought the
quiet routine of their usual life irksome indeed.
Edward Fortescue was lookmg forward with the greatest
dehgbt to becoming a midshipman iu the course of the foUowing
year. He hoped, indeed, it would be in a very few months ;
but his uncle and Mr. Howard had only told him to work on
as hard as he could, for the summons might come for him to
join at a very short notice, and it would be very dreadful, if
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
1.18 HOWIL ISFLUENCE.
the commission should be refused because his guaimana did nol
thii.ik him forivard enough in Lis varioua studies to leave them.
They had looked veiy mischievous when they had lold him
this, And Edward had enjoyed the joke, and resolved they
should not have any such amusement. He would go to sea, if
he worked night and day for the privilege ; and he really did
so well, that his uncle gave him great praise, which was as un-
expected and delightful as his anger was terrible.
It happened that on the morning after Ciiristmas-day, Ed-
ward and Ellen were quite alone in the school-room ; the for*
liner was iu one of his most impatient moods, for at his own
request, hie uncle was to examine him in a favorite study, and
one of the necessary books was wanting. He had read it a
few evenings previous, but something had crossed hijn, and in a
desperate passion he had flung tlie book from hira, and where
it fell he neither knew nor cared. Caroline and Emmeline
had already gone on an expedition to some poor people, wilh
their mother ; Ellen had asked and received permission to put
some seeds in her little garden, Percy having kindly promised
to show her where, and to do some harder work in it for her. Ho
was, however slill engaged with his father, and would be, he
had told her, for perhaps an hour longer, but he would be sure
to come to her then ; and, to employ the interval, she had in-
tended to work hard at a purse she was making for him.
Edwardj however, entirely engrossed her, and for nearly half
an hour they hunted in every nook and corner of the room, at
length
" I see it ! I see it ! Edward," Ellen exclaimed, adding,
however, in a very desponding tone, "But what shall we do?
we cannot get it."
"Why not?" answered Edward impatiently; where is it,
EUen?"
" Behind that stand of flowers," she replied, pointing to one
that filled a comer of the room and whidi, though it was win-
ter, .was filled with some beautiful flowering geraniums of all
colors, and some few rare myrtles in full flower.
" There !" said Edward joyfully; "Oh, that is very easily
moved I shall get it in a minute."
" But you know aunt Emmeline desired us not to touch if,"
implored Ellen, clinging to his arm ; " and the flowers are
almost all Caroline's. Dear Edward pray do not move it."
"Stufi^ and nonsise, Ellen! How is aunt to know any
Ihing about it ? and what do I care about the flowers being
Carohne's ; they may be whose they like, but they shall not
prevent my getting my book."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 139
' But it will be disobeying auaf, Edward ji^y, pray,
ioTi't ; you know how displeased she was with Emmeline last
week for a madi more trifling disobedience than this will be.
And if any tiling should happen to the flowers, Caroline will
be so angry,"
" And what do I care for Carohne's anger," retorted Edward,
impatiently; "My uncle's indeed is something fo care about,
and if I don't get my book and go to him directly, I shall have
it. 1 don't like to disobey aunt, but in this case there is no help
for iL I am sure I can readi it without doing any harm;
besides, I must get my book I cannot do without it,"
" Then only wait till aunt comes home, or at least let me ask
uncle if we may moyeit, dear Edward; do let me go I will
not be a minute."
" And so betray my being in a passion the other day, and
get mc a reproof for that, and for my carelessness into the bar-
gain I Nonsense, Ellen ; I will get it, and you must help me,
for I have not a moment Jo lose."
" No, Edward ! indeed, indeed, 1 cannot touch it," she re-
plied imploringly, and shrinking bak,
" Say, rather, yon wish to get me into disgrace, and perhaps
prevented from going out this evening, and to-morrow, and
Friday too ! " exclaimed Edward, irritated beyond all forbear-
ance ; " and the other day you were so very sorry I was going
from home so soon mudi you must care about me, that you
cannot do such a trifling thing as this to oblige me ! I hate
deceit."
Ellen made no reply, though the tears started to her eyes ;
but as usual her firmness deserted her. The heavy stand was
carefully moved a little forward, without injuring any of the
plants; the book was obtained, and at that moment the voice
of Percy was heard exclaiming
"Edward! Edward! what are you about? papa has been
expecting you the last half-hour ; he says if you do not come
du-ectly, you will not have time to do all you wish what can
you be about ? "
Edward did not wait to hear much more than his name, but
darted off, leaving his sister to push back the stand. Ellen felt
ftlmost sure she could not do it by herself; but how was she to
act ? To ask assistance would not only be confessing her own
disobedience, but inculpating her brother, and really, perhaps,
deprive him of the enjoyments he anticipated, and so confirm
his unkind words. She ti'ied to replace it, and thought s.'ie had
;juite succeeded ; but as she moved it, one of the my ties fell
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
I'lO HOME influen:e.
lo the grotmd, and ita beautiful blossom h n on tl e tall pro
Berved from being quite broken off only by thiee o fo 1 h
catfl fibres. It was Caroline's farorite pi nt o he o b
rished and tende.d, that Percy called it h p tt d bild and
poor EDen stood paralyzed j she raised the p t m ban ally,
and rested tbe broken head of the flower against the still unin-
jured sprig, and it looked so well and natural, tbat the thought
for a moment dartd across her mind that after aJI it might not
be discovered. Then came aJl her aunt's lessons of the many
ways of acting an untruth without words, and, therefore, even
if it should not be discovered, it was no comfort ; but could
she, dared she, voluntarily confess what must appear a wilful
disobedience ? If her aunt had been at home, she might in
that first moment have gained the necessary courage ; but she
was not expected back for two or three hours, and Ellen sat
with her face buried in her hands, only conscious of misery,, till
her cousin's joyous voice called out from the hall
" Come along, Nelly, I have kept you long enough ; Tiny
would never have left me quiet so long j but there is no tiring
your patience. However, I wiU mate up for it now."
And glad to escape fim her own thoughts, she hastily col-
lected the various seeds, and ran after him. And Percy was
so active, so obliging, so amusing in his queer ways of working
and talking, that she almost forgot the impending trial, till she
met her aunt and cousins at luncheon. Edward had been so
intent, so happy at his business with his uncle, that he had never
cast a thought as to how the stand got back ; and after lunch
he had to go for a row on the river, and after dinner to attend
a lecture on astronomy, which, that night and the one following,
was to be given in the Town-hall in T , His uncle and Percy
and Herbert were to accompany him, and so, that he should
^ve a thought to any thing disagreeable, was not likely.
The day wore on ; Ellen's little courage had ail gone, and
she almost unconsciously hoped that nothing would be disco-
vered. Mr. Hamilton and the lads departed at six, and Mrs.
Hamilton proposed adjourning to her daughters' room, to finish
an entertaining book that they were reading aloud. She had
nolJced, with her usual penetration, that all day Ellen evidently
shrunk from her eye, and felt quite sure something was wrong
again ; but she asked no questions, fearing again to tempt
equivocation. Caroline's passionate exclamaiion that some-
body had broken her beautiful flower, drew the attention of all
to the stand, and one glance sufficed to tell Mrs. HamDton that
k had been moved. Her anxious suspicions at once connecleii
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HOME ISFLUENCE. 141
(his with Ellen's shrinking manner, and she "turned to ask her
if she knew aoy thing about it. But EUea had disappeared ;
and si.e rang the bell, and inquired of the only domestics whoso
department ever led them into the rooio, if ikitj could explain
the accident. But neither of them could ; all uniting in declar-
ing, that in the morning the myrtle was quite perfect.
"Ellen waa at home, mamma; she must know something
about it. Percy aaid they did not begin gardening till more
than an hour after we were gone," exclaimed Caroline, whose
temper was sorely tried by this downfall of all her cares. " I
dare say she did it herself spiteful thing ! and has gone to
hide herself rather than confess it it is just like her I "
" Stop, CaroUne, do not condemn till you are quite certain j
and do not in your anger say what is not tnie. Ellen has given
Qo evidence as yet of being spiteful or mischievous. Emme-
line, go and tell your cousin that I want her."
The child obeyed. Miss Harcourt bad continued working
moat industriously at the table, without uttering a word, though
Mrs. Hamilton's countenance expressed such unusual perplexity
and pain, that it would have seemed kinder to have spoken.
One look at Ellen convinced her aunt, and she actually paused
before she spoke, dreading the reply almost as much as the
child did the question. It was scarcely audible ; it might have
been denial, it certainly was not afftrmative, for Miss Harcourt
instantly exclaimed
" Ellen, how can you .tell such a deliberate falsehood ? I
would not tell your aunt, for I really wished you to have the
opportunity of in some degree redeeming your disobedience ;
but I saw you move back the stand, and your sinful attempt at
concealment by replacing the broken flower and now you
dare deny it ? "
'' I did not replace the flower with the intention of concealing
it," exclaimed Ellen, bureting into tears ; for that one unjust
charge seemed (o give hack the power of speech, though the
violent reproach and invective which burst from Caroline pre-
vented any thing further.
" I must beg you to be silent, Caroline, or to leave the room,
iill I have done speaking to your cousin," said her modier,
quietly ; " the fate of your flower seems to make you forget
that I have never yet permitted disrespect or any display of
temper in my presence."
" But what right had Ellen to touch the stand ? "
" None she has both disobeyed and again tried to deceive
me ; faults which i ', is my duty to chastise, but not yours to uj.-
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142 HOME INFLUENCE.
braid. Answer me, Ellen, at once and briefly j your fault ia
known, and, therefore, all further equivocation ia useless. Did
you move that flower-stand ? "
" Yes," replied Ihe child, almost choked with sobs, called
forOi the more from the contrast which her aunt's mildness
presented to Miss Harcourt's harshness, and Caroline's violent
anger, and from the painful longing to say that her first dis-
obedience was not entirely her own fault.
" Did you remember that I had expressly forbidden either
of you to attempt to move it ? "
" Yes," replied Ellen again, an exclamation at the apparent
hardihood of her eopduet escaped from both Miss Haroourt anil
Caroline.
" And yet you persisted, Ellen ; this is indeed a strange con-
tradiction to your seemingly sincere sorrow for a similar fault
a few months back. What did you move it for ? "
For full a minute Ellen hesitated, thus unhappily confirming
the suspicion that when she did reply it was another equivo-
cation
"To get a book which had faUen behind."
" I do not know how a book could have fallen behind, unless
it had been put or thrown there, EUen ; you said, too, that you
did not replace the broken flower for the purpose of conceal-
ment. I hai-dly know how to believe either of these assertions.
"Why did you leave the room just now ? "
"Because because I knew you would question me,
imd and I felt I should not have courage to speak the
trath and I knew you would be so so displeased."
The words were scarcely articulate-
" I should have been better satisfied, Ellen, if your fear of
my displeasure had prevented the committal of your first fault,
not to aggravate it so sinfully by both acted and spoken un-
truths. Painfiil as it is to me in this season of festivity and
enjoyment to inflict suffering, I should share your sin if I did
not adopt some measures to endeavor at least U make you re-
member and so avoid it in future. I have told you so very
often that it is not me you mostly offend when you speak or
act falsely, but God himself who is Truth that I fear
words alone will be of no avail. GrO to your own room, EUen ;
p3rhaps solitude and thought, when your brother and cousins
ore so happy and unrestrained, may bring you to a sense of
yaur aggravated misconduct better than any thing else. You
iU not leave your apartment, except for the hours of devotion
and exercise which you will take with Ellis, not with me
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCi!. 143
lUl I tLiiJc you have had sufficient time to reflect on all I have
said to you on this auhject."
Ellen quitted the room witljout answering; but it was se-
veral minutes before Mrs. Hamilton could sufficiently conquer
the very painful feelings which her niece's conduct and her own
compelled severity excited, to entor into her daughters' anjuae-
menls ; but she would not punish them for the misconduct
of another; and, by her exertions, temper to Caroline, and
cheerfulness to Emmeline (whose tears of sympathy had al-
most kept peace with Ellen's of sorrow,) gradually returned,
and their book became as delightful a recreation as it had beon
before.
Great was Edward's grief and consternation when ho found
the effects of what was actually in the first instance his fault ;
but he had not sufficient boldness to say so. His aunt had ex-
pressly said it was the untruth that had occasioned her greatest
displeasure ; that if the disobedience had been confessed at once,
she would, in consideration of the season, have forgiven it with
a very slight rebuke. "Now," he thought, "it is only the dis-
obedience in whicli I am concerned, and if I confess it .was
mostly my fault, it won't help Ellen in the least so what is
the use of my acknowledging it? Of course, if she wishes it, I
will; but how 'could she tell such a deliberate story?"
That ho was acting one of equal deliberation, and of far
more culpability, if possible for he was permitting her to bear
the whole weight of his fault never stmck him; if it did, he
did not at all understand or believe it. He went to his sister,
and offered to confess his share in her fault, and when as he
fully expected she begged him not, that it could do her no
good, and., perhaps only get him punished too, his conscience
was so perfectly satisfied, that he actually took upon himself to
aak her how she could be so fooUsh and wrong as, when she
was asked, not to allow that she had moved it at once
"It would have been all right, then," he said; and added,
almost with irritation, "ajid I should not have been teased with
the thought of your being in disgrace just now, when I wanted
so much to enjoy myself."
"Do not think about me, then, Edward," was his sister's
reply ; "I know the untruth is entirely my own fault, so why
sLoald it torment you; if I could hut always tell and act the
truth, and not be so veiy, very frightened oh, how I wonder
if I ever shall ! " and she leaned her head on her arms, which
rested on the table, so despondingly, so sorrowfully, that Ed-
ward fe't too uncomfortable to remain with her. He was satis-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
U4 HOME INFLUENCE.
fied that he could not help her; but the disagreeable thought
would come, that if he had not tempted her to disobey, she
would have had no temptation to teO an untruth, and 60 he
Bought a variety of active amusements to get rid of the feeling.
The continuation of the entertaining astronomical lecture, too,
was so very delightful, and Thursday and Friday morning
brought so many enjoyments, that he almost forgot her, till
startled hack into self-reproach by finding that she was not to
accompany, them on Friday evening to Mr. Howard's, whose
great pleasure was to collect young people around him, and
whosi? soiree in the Christmas holidays, and whose day in the
country at midsummer, were anticipated by girls and boys,
great and small, with such delight as to pervade the whole year
round. Caroline never refused to join Mr. Howard's parties,
though they were "juvenile;" and Percy always declared they
were as unlike any other person's as Mr. Howard was unlike a
schoolmaster. Ellen had so enjoyed the day in the country,
that, timid as she was, she had looked foi-ward to Friday with
almost as much delight as Emmeline.
In vain Emmeline, Edward, Percy, Herbert, and even Mr.
HamiltOH entreated, that she might be permitted to go. Mrs.
Hamilton's own kind hoart pleaded quite as strongly, but she
remained firm.
"Do not ask me, loj dear children," she said, almost as be-
seechingly as they had implored; "I do assure you it is quite
as much, if not more pain to me on this occasion to refuse, as it
ia for you all to be refused. If it were the first, second, or even
third time that Ellen had disregarded truth, I would yield for
your sakes ; and in the hope that the indulgence would produce
as good an effect as continued severity; but I cannot hope this
now. The habit, is, I fear, so deeply rooted, that nothing but
firmness in inflicting pain, whenever it is committed, will suc-
ceed in ei-adicating it. God grant I may remove it at last"
The tone and words were so earnest, so sad, that not only
did her children cease in their intercession, but ail felt still more
forcibly the solemn importance of the virtue, in which Ellen
had so failed, fiwm the effect of her conduct upon their mother.
She was always grieved when they had done wrong, but they
never remembered seeing her so very sad m now. Edward,
indeed, could scarcely understand this as his cousins did ; but
fiii his aunt still only alluded to the untruth, the qualm of con-
ience was again silenced, for he had only caused the disobedi-
enoe. Eramehne asked timidly if she might remain with EOen,
and Edward followed her eiaiaple, thinking hunself very mag-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 145
so doing; but both were refused and surely he
had done enough !
All went Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton and Miss Hiircourt, as
well as the young people ; and it was such a happy eveaing !
First, there was the orrery, that Mr. Howard had prevailed
on the lecturer to display first at his house, and Edward waa
almost wild in his delight ;, and then there were some games
and intellectual puzzles, iliat made them aU think, as weU as
enjoy ; and then there were some music and singing aai danc-
ing, and every thing waa bo quiet and orderly, and yet so full
of youthful enjoyment, that it was not much wondei* there was
no longer any room for a sorrowful thought, in any of the young
party from Oakwood. Mrs. Hamilfon alone thought of Ellen,
and again and again accused herself of too great harshness
for, perhaps, after all, it might have no better effect than kind-
ness ; but what could she do ? She almost envied the quiet,
unruffled unconcern of less anxious guardians ; hut for her to
feel indifferent to her responsibility was impossible. Ellen waa
so often unwell that her absence did not occasion so much re-
mark as her brother's or either of her cousins' would. " Mam-
ma did not wish her to come," was the answer she had desired
the children to give to any inquiries, and her character for in-
dulgence was BO generally known, that no one suspected any
thing more than indisposition. Annie Grahame's dislike io
EUon might have made her more suspicious, but she was not
there. Cecil and Lilla were, with their father, but Miss Gra-
hame did not condescend to attend Mr. Howard's "juvenile"
parties ; and Caroline, though she would not have allowed it^
even to herself, was both happier, and much more inclined to
enjoy herself, with the amusements and society offered to her
when Annie was not at a party, than when she was.
The next night, to Ellen's disposition, was a greater trial
than the Friday. She neither expected, nor hardly wished to
be allowed to go to Mr. Howard's, though, as the affectionate
Emmeline had come to wish her good night, and with tears in
her eyes repeated the regrets that she was not to go, she felt
the bitter disappointment more than in the morning she had
thought possible ; but Saturday night it had been her aunt's
custom, from the time she had been at Oakwood, to visit her
daughters and niece before they went to sleep, and prepare
them for the Sabbath's rest and enjoyment, by an examinafioH
of their conduct during the past week, and full forgiveness of
any thing that had been wrong. When younger, Mrs. Hamil
toe had attended to this duty every night ; hut wishing to giv6
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
U6 HOME INFLimiCE.
them a LaLit of private prayer and self-examination, independ-
ent of her, she had, after Emmeline was twelve years old, set
apart the Saturday night, until they were fifteen old enough
for her to relinquish it .altogetlier. It had been such a habit
with her own children, tliat they felt it perfectly natural ; but
with Ellen and Edward, from their never having been accus-
tomed to it as young children, she had never felt the duty un-
derstood by them, or as satisfactorily performed by herself as
with her own. Still, Ellen looked forward to this night as the
termination of her banishment ; for great indeed was the of-
fence whose correction extended over flie Sabbath. Ellen could
not remember one instance since sbe had been at Oakwood,
when she heard the doors of her ceusins' rooms successively
close, and her aunt's step retreating, without approaching hers,
and she did, indeed, believe herself irredaimably wicked, or her
kindj good aunt, would, at least, have come to her, Mrs. Ha-
milton had purposely refrained from indulging her own inclina-
tions, as well as comforting Ellen, hoping still more to impress
upon her how greatly she had sinned. The impossibility of
her perfectly comprehending her niece's character, while the
poor child felt it such a sacred duty to victimize herself, made
her far more severe than she would have been, could she have
known her real disposition ; but how was it possible she could
believe Ellen's grief as deep and remorseful as it_seemed, when
a short time afterward she would commit the same faults ?
Her task was infinitely more difficult and perplexing than less
anxious mothers can have the least idea of.
CHAPTER X.
PAIN AND PENITENCE. TKUTH IMPRESSED, AND RECON
Ik feverish dreams of her parents, recalling both their deaths,
und with aJtemate wakefulness, fraught with those deadly in-
comprehensible terrors which some poor children strong
imagination know so well, Ellen's night passed; and the next
morning she rose, with that painful throbbing in her Ihroat and
temples, which always ended with one of those intense and
exhausting headaches to which she had been so subject, but
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. Ii7
which her aunt's care and Mr. Maitland's remedies hnd much
decreased, both in frequency and violence. Siie went to cliureh.
however, with the family, as usual.
" Remain out, Edward I " Percy exclaimed, as they neared
the house ; " the old year is taking leave of us in such a glo-
rious mood, that Tiny and I are going to ruralize and poetize
till dinner will you come with us ? and you, Ellen ? "
Ellen withdrew her arm from her brother's, saying, as she
Jid so
" Go, dear Edward, I am very tired, and would rather not."
" Tired, and with this short walk ; and you really do look as
if you were what is the matter, Ellen ? you are not well."
His sister did not reply, but shrinking from the look which
Mrs. Hamilton, who was passing at the moment, fixed earnestly
npon her, she ran into the house.
Edward i^ain felt uncomfortable; in fact, he had done so,
BO often since the Tuesday morning, that his temoer was not
half so good as usual. He did not choose t
even to himself, that the uncomfortable feeling
reproach, and so he vented it more than once in irritation
against Ellen, declaring it was so disagreeable she should be
in disgrace just then.
It was Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton's custom always to dine on
Sundays at half-past one, to aOow those of their household
who were unable to attend divine service in the morning (o go
in the afternoon. "With regard to themselves and their child-
ren they pursued a plan, which many religionists might, per-
haps, have condemned, and yet lis fruits were very promising.
Their great wish was to make the Sabbath a day of love, divine
and domestic; to make their children look to it with joy and
anticipation throughout the week as a day quite distinct in its
enjoyment from any other; and for this reason, while their
children were young, they only went to church in the morning,
the afternoons were devoted to teaching them to know and
to love God in His works as well as "Word, and their evenings
to such quiet but happy amusements and literature, as would
iill their young hearts with increased thankfulness for their
very happy lot. As they grew older, they were perfectly at
liberty to do as they pleased with regard to the afternoon
church. Herbert, whose ardent desire to enter the ministry
increased with his years, generally spent the greater part of
Sunday with Mr, Howard, with his parents' glad and full con-
sent. The contemplation of serious tilings was his greatot
happiness, but Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton did not expect that all
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
Ii3 HOME rSFLUENOE.
their otlier children were to be like iiim. They veve eon-
tented, and intensely thajikfiil also, to perceive that diverba aa
were their characters, still the cOBstant sense of God'a presence
and. of His infinite loVe waa active and earnest in thero, all,
inciting love and reverence for Herbert, even though they
could not sympathize with him enlirely. Another peculiarity
of Mr. Hamilton consisted in liia permitting no Sunday schools
at Aveling and his other villages. The Saturday afternoons
wei-e set apart instead of the Sunday. He wished his wife
and daughters, when they were old enough, to superintend
them, and help the children in preparing for the Sunday ser-
rices and Sunday enjoynients ; but he particularly dishked
the system of overwork on a day of rest, which could not f^l
to be the case, if there wei-e schools to attend to twice or three
times a day, as well as church.
It being the last day of the old year, Mr. Howard had ex-
pressed a wish that Percy and Edward as well as Herbert
should attend church that afternoon, and the lads, without the
least reluctance, consented ; Mr. Hamilton and Miss Harcourt
were going too, and Caroline and Emmeline, of their own
accord, asked permission to accompany them. Ellen's pale,
suffering face had so haunted her aunt, that she coidd not tliiuk
of any thing else, and remained for a very much longer time
than was usual to her character in a state of indecision. The
next night was her children's ball, and it was, too, the first day
of the new year always in her happy circle a festival of joy
and thankfulness. Ellen's face cert^nly looked as, if she had
Bufiered quite enough to prevent the recurrence of her fault,
but so it had always done, and yet, before she could possibly
have forgotten its consequences, she failed again. Mrs. Ha-
milton sat for some time, after her children had left her, in
meditation, trying to silence the pleadings of affection, and
listen only to reason, as to whether continued severity or
returning kindness would be the more effective, and save both
Ellen and herself any further pain.
To the child herself physical suffering was so increasing as
gradually to deaden mental, till at last it became so severe,
that she felt sick and faint. She knew the medicine she was
in the habit of taking when simOarly suffering, and the lotion
which her aunt applied to her forehead, and which always
succeeded in removing the excessive tlirohbing, were both in
Mrs. Hamilton's dressing-room ; hut it seemed quite impossible
that she could get at them, for she did not like to leave her
room without permission, nor did she feel as if she could walk
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 149
30 far, her head throbbing with increased violence witli every
sh*p she took. At length she summoned sufficient courage to
ring the bell, and beg Faanj- to ask Ellis to come to lier. The
^irl, who had been akeady dreadfully concerned that Mias
Ellen Lad eaten no dinner, and on Sunday too ! gave such &a
iccpunt of her, that the housekeeper hastened to her directly,
and be^ed her to let her go for her mistress it was so lucky
she had not gone to church but Ellen clung lo her, imploring
her not.,
" Dear, dear Ellis, get me the medicine, and bathe my fore-
head yourself; I shall get well then in an hour or two, without
giving my aunt any trouble : pray, pray, don't tell her. 1
scarcely feel the pain when she is nursing and soothing me ;
but I do not deserve that now, and I am afraid I never shaO."
" But indeed, Miss Ellen, she wOl be displeased if I do not.
Why, only the other morning she was quite coneerned that I
had not told her Jane was iU directly, and went herself two or
three times every day to see she had every thing proper and
comfortable."
" But tliat is quit different, dear Ellis ; do get the lotion ; I
feel as if I coifid not bear this pain much longer without cry-
ing ; you can tell her afterward, if you think you ought."
And seeing that farther ai^ument only increased the poor
child's sufferings, Ellis promised, and left her. Ellen leaned
her forehead against the side of her Uttle bed, and held the cur-
tain tightly clasped, as if so lo prevent the utterance of the hys-
teric sob that would rise in her throat, though she did not know
what it was. But the wholly unexpected sound of Mrs. Ha-
milton's voice saying, close by her, " I am afraid you have one
of your very bad headaches, Ellen," so startled her, as to make
her raise her head suddenly ; and the movement caused such
agony, that, spite of all her effoi-ts, she could not prevent aa
ahnost convulsive cry of pain.
" My dear cliild I I had no idea of pain Uke this ; why did
you not send for me ? We have always prevented its becoming
BO very violent by taking it in time, my Ellen."
" Miss Ellen would not let me go for you, madam," rejoined
Ellis, who, to her mistress's inexpressible relief, was close at
hand with the remedies she wanted, and she repeated wliat the
child had said.
" Again your old mistake, Ellen. I would so much, so very
much rather hear you say you were resolved to deserve my
bve, than that you did not merit it. "Why should yon not
deserve it as well aa your brother and ;ousins, if you dete:^
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
150 EOME IWLUKKCE.
miniid with all your heart to try and not do any thing to lesser,
tt ? Nothing ia so likely to prevent your even endeavoring t(
deserve it, as the mistaken fancy that you never shall ; hut you
are too unwell to listen to- me now ; we must try all we can fc
remove this tcmhle pain, and then see if we can bring hack
happiness too."
And for above an hour did Mrs. Ha d w th the most
patient tenderness, apply the usual rem d h d by find-
ing that, though much more slowly than 1 1 11 by degrees
the violence of the pain did subside, and tb 1 y t al Section
give way to natural and quiet tears. Esh t p educed a
deep though not Very long sleep, and aft at lung h some
few micMtea very anxiously, Mrs. Ham It t d w by her
bed, and half unconsciously drew tow d h EU Kttle
Bible, which lay open on the table, a f t h 1 f only
lately used. Several loose papera were between the leaves ;
her eyes filled with tears as she read on one of them a little
prayer, touching from the very childishness of the language
and imperfect writing, beseeching her Father in Heaven in Ilia
great merey to forgive her sin, and give her courage to speak
the truth, to help her not to be so frightened, but to guide her
in her difficult path. Mrs. Hamilton Uttle guessed how difflcult
it was, but she hoped more from the effects of her present
penitence than she had done yet. She had copied, too, several
verses from the various parts of the Old and New Testamfiat
which were condemnatory of falsehood, and her aunt felt \io
longer undecided as to her course of action.
"You have employed your solitary hours so well, my dear
Ellen," she said, as, when the child awoke and looked anxiously
toward her she kissed her cheek with even more than her
usual fondness "that I scarcely require your assurance of re-
pentance or promises of araendment. When yo have taken
some cotfee, and think you are well enough to listen to me, 1
will read you an illustration of the fearful sin of falsehood from
the Old Testament^ which I do not think I have yet pointed out
to you. Ananias and Sapphira, I see you remember."
And when EUen had taken the delicious cup of coffee, wliieh
her aunt had ordered should be ready for her directly ?he
awoke, and sat up, though her head was still so weak it re-
quired the support of a pillow, yet she seemed so revived, so
almost iiappy, from the mesmeric effect of that warm, fond kiss,
that her aunt did not hesitate to continue the lesson she was so
3 to impress, while the mind and heart were soft' ned to
e it. She turned to the fourth chapter of the seconil book
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLtlKNCE. 15J
of Kings, and after briefly relating the story of Naaman fo;
fh 3 did not wish to divert Ellen's attention from tte one import-
ftyit subject, by giving any new ideas she read from the 20th
rerse to the end, and so brought the nature of Gehazi'n sm and
its awful punishment, at the*hand of God himself (for the pro-
phet was merely aa instrument of the Eternal, he had no power
in himself to call the disease of leprosy on his servant) to El-
len's mind, that she never forgot it.
"Do you think Elisba knew where he had been, and what
he had done, before he asked him?" she ventured timidly to
inquire, aa her aunt ceased ; " Gehazi had told a falsehood al-
ready to Naaman. Do you think God punished that or his
falsehood to Elisha?"
"Most probably he punished both, my love. Ehsha no doubt
knew how his servant had been employed in his absence, in fact
he teils him so" and she read the 26th verse again "but
he asked him whence he had come, to give him an opportunity
for a full confession of his first sin, which then, no doubt would,
after some shght rebuke, have been pardoned. It was a very
gi-eat fault at first, but the mercy of God was then, aa it is cow,
so infinite so foi^iving, that, had Elisha's question recalled
Gehazi fo a sense of his great guilt and excited real repentance,
his punishment would have been averted. But his aggravated
and repeated falsehood called down on him a chastisement most
terrible even to think about. Leprosy was not merely a dread-
ful disease in itself, but it cut himofi from all the blessings and
joys not only of social life but of domestic; because, as God
had said it should cleave to his seed as well aa to himself, he
could never find any one who would dare to love him, and he
must have been compelled to lonely misery all his hfe."
"It was a very dreadful punishment/' repeated Ellen, fear-
fully.
" It was, dearest ; but it was merciful, notwithstanding. If
God had passed it by, and peiinitted Gehazi to continue his
sinful course, without any check or chastisement that would re-
call him to a sense of better things, and a wish to pursue them,
he might have continued apparently very happy in this life, tti
be miserable forever in the next ; to be banished forever fh)m
Gcod and His good angels; and would not that have been still
more dreadful than the heaviest suffering hero ? In those times
God manifested, his judgments through His prophets directly.
That is not the ease now, but he has given us His Word to tell
us, hy history as well as precept, those things that are pleasinj;
lo Him, and those which excite His ang^; and which, if not
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
152 HOME INFLUENCE.
corrected while we are io this world, will cuise our condemniv
tion when our souls appear before Him in judgment, and wheQ
we cannot correct them if we would. Now children, and even
young people, cannot know these things as well as their parents
and guardians can, and if we neglect to teach tlem right and
wrong, Grod is more angry with us than with them, as He tells
Ezekiel." She read from the 18th to the 22d verse of the
third chapter, and explained it, so that EUen could clearly un-
deretanct it, and then said, "And now, my dear Ellen, can you
quite understand and quite feel why I have caused you so much
pain, amd been, as I dare say you have felt, so very, very
severe?"
Ellen's arms were round her neck in a moment, and her head
cradled on her bosom, as ber sole reply, for she felt she could
not speak at first, without crying again.
"I wish I could remember that God sees me wherever I am,"
she said, after a short paise, and very sadly. "I am so fright-
ened when I think of anybody's anger, even Caroline's, that I
cannot remember any thing else."
"Did you nolice tbe Paahn we read the day before yester-
day, my dear Ellen, in the morning lesson ?"
The child had not ; and her aunt turning to the 129th, read
the first twelve and the two last verses carefully witb her, add-
ing
" Suppose you learn one verse for me every morning, til! you
caa repeat the whole fourteen perfectly, and I think tbat will
help you to remgmber it, my Ellen, and prove to me that you
reaJiy are ansious to correct yourself; and now one word more,
and I think I shall have talked to you quite enough."
"Indeed, indeed I am not tired, dear aiint," replied Ellen,
very earnestly ; " I feel when you are talking to me as if I
never could be naughty again. Ob! how I wish I never
"I am not so unconscionable as to expect you to bave no
faults, my dear child; all I wish you to attend to, is more obe-
dience to my commands. I have not said any thing about your
disobedience, because your untruth was of still more conse-
quence, but that grieved me too, for disobedience to m? is also
disobedience to God, for He has commanded you to obey your
parents and guardians ; and as you said you remembered I had
told you not to move the flower-stand, I cannot imagine wbal
could have induced you so wilfully to disobey me."
Ellen looked up in her faee with such earnest, wistful eyes
that Mrs. Hamilton feit puzzled ; but as sbe did not apeak and
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME IKFLUENCE. 153
mid her iead g^ on its resting plae, to hide the teai-s Ihui
rose, her aunt merely added
" But as I do not wish to inflict any further pain, I will not
Bay any thing more ahout it ; only remember, that thoiigli I may
be displeased if you disohey me again, an instant and fall con
fejsion will soon gain my forgiveness ; and that though I will
never doubt your word, still, if I discover another untruth, it will
and must oblige me to adopt still severer measures, painful as it
will be to myself. Do not tremble so, my Ellen, you know you
can prevent it; and remember too tliat whenever you fail in
truth, you punish me as well as yourself;" and Mrs. Hamilton
fondly kissed her as she spoke.
Light steps and a ringing laugh at that moment mounded in
the passage, and Enuneline, though she certiunly did ask if she
might enter, scarcely waited for an answer, before she bounded
in, the very personification of health and joy.
"Mamma, papa wants to know if we may not have tea to-
night, and if we may not have Ellen's company too ?"
" It is New Tear's Eve," pleaded another joyous voice, and
Percy's brown head just intruded itself through the half-opened
door ; " and our tree will not be half enjoyable unless we aii;
all there."
" I had really forgotten your tree, my dear children, bt I am
glad papa and you all have rememljered it. Come in, Percy ;
Ellen will, I dare say, admit you into her room."
" He raced me all around the gallery, maruma, declaring he
would ^ve you papa's message, or so take away my breath,
that even if I outstripped him, I should not be able ; but I have,
you see sir,"
"Only because I did not know whether it was quit* proper
to enter a young lady's room. But do come, mamma ; Mr.
Howard is witli us as usual, and we are all au desespoir for
you and our Httle Ellen she may ijome, I can read it in your
" Are you well enough, my love ? Do you think this poor
little head will permit you lo join us ? " asked Mrs. Hamilfoa,
anxiously for the sudden joy that gleamed in Ellen's eyes at tha
idea of joining the family, told what the disappointment would
be if she could not.
" It does not hurt me at all if I can rest it, aunt ; but I am
afraid it will not lot me walk,'' she added, sorrowfully, as tte
attempt to walk caused it to throb again.
"Never mind, Nelly, even if you cannot walk; you shall
make use of mj pedestrian powers," rephed Percy, joyously;
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
154 HOME IKFLTJENCE.
'rest yoar head on my shoulder that's it I should make D
capital nurse I declare; should I not, majnaa?"
And gayly answering in the afBrmative, hia mother could
BOarcely prevent a throb of pride, as she looked on his fine manly
face, beaming with benevolent kindness on hia little cousin, whom
h3 had tfittderiy lifled in his arms, and cheeked his boisterous
mirth and i-apid stride to accommodate her.
" You are not quite so light as Tiny, but she is all air ; I ex-
pect she will evaporate some day ; never mind your hair, it doea
very well."
" Stop, I will smooth it in a moment," excl^med Emmeline,
ei^erly ; " it is Sunday, Percy, she shall look well."
" Ton had better let me do it, Emmy," said her mother,
smiling; "your cousin's head can only bear very tender hand-
ling to-night. There, that will do and I am quite ready to
attend you."
The lights, the joyous voices, even her uncle's kind greeting,
almost oyerpowered poor Ellen ; as Percy, stiil preserving his
character of an admirable nurse, laid her carefully on a couch ia
the sitting-room, where not only tea was waiting, but the cele-
brated lamUy tree, which Mrs. Hamilton's anxiety and Ellen's
sorrow had caused them both to forget, was displayed with even
more than usual taste and beauty.
Mr. Hamilton, when young, had been a great deal with his
fatlier in Germany, Denmark, and Sweden, and brought from
the first and latter country certain domestic observances which
had especially pleased him, as so greatly enhancing the enjoy-
ments of home, and helping to a right understanding between
parents and children, by increasing their mutual love and con-
fidence. The famil y tree, or Christmas Tree, as it was called,
was one of these, and from their earliest years it had been one
of the children's greatest delights on New Tear's Eve. Of
course, as they grew older, and their taste improved, the tree
itself, its suspended presents, and its surrounding decorations
increased in beauty, and it had never been prettier than it was
this year. The whole of the preceding afternoon had the yonng
artists labored ia preparing it^ for of course, as the next day
was Sunday, it was obhged to be. all finished by the Saturday
night ; the servants, eager in all things to enhance the happiness
of those whose parents made them so happy, did not care what
trouble they took to help them. They always selected the rocoi
in which there was a very lofty and very .deep oriel window, in
the centre of which recess (which was almost as large as a
modsrately sized room) they placed tke tree, which was a vstj
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLTJEKCE. 155
lai^, gracefuUy-cut spi-uce fir ; it was placed in a tub fiOe*!
with the same eoU as that in which the tree grew, so that by
watering and care it remaJDed fresh for some time. The tub
which contained it was completely hidden hj the flowering
Bhrubs that were placed round it, rising in an expanding pyi^a-
mid, by means of several flower-stands, till the recess seemed
one mass of leaf and flower ; among which the superb scarlet
geranium, that in Devonshire grows so luxuriantly all through
tlie winter, shining against its own beautiful leaf, the brilliant
berries of the holly, with their dark ghatenlng branches, the
snow-berry and flowering myrtle, shone preeminent. . Small
lamps glittered through the flowers, and were suspended in suffi-
cient profusion from the pendent branches of the tree to half
reveal and half hide the various gifts and treasures that were
there deposited ; and altogether the efi^ect, from every part ol'
the room, was really striking.
The tree always remained till after their ball, but, the inter-
change of gifU which took place on New Year's Eve, causing
BO many peculiarly happy and home feelings, was confined to
the family group ; Mr. Howard always included. Many weeks
before had each individual worked at his own secret undertaking.
1 it could not ail be done in private, no questions were ever
asked, and each helped the other to keep it at least fi-om their
parents till the eventful night itself. They foimed so large a
party altogethei;, as little tokens of affection between the brothers
and sisters were also exchanged, that the tree was quite loaded,
and many a time had Mr. and Mrs.. Hamilton discovered some
trait of character or some ruling fancy, even in such a simple
thing as the manufacture and presentation of home gifts.
Their own idea of family ties was so strong and so holy, that
one great ^m in the education of their children was to make
them not only love each other, but have thought and attention
for individual feelings and wishes, and so heighten feeling by
action, not depend entii-ely on natural ties. Mrs. Hamilton had
known many young persons who were lavish in attentions and
even presents to friends, but never imagined that their own
home circle had the first and strongest ciaim to kindness, whether
of word or deed. She knew that affections and thought lavished
on comparative strangers never radiated on home, but that
when given to home Jirst, they shed light and kindliness far
and near.
Their tea was indeed a mirthful one ; EUen had been very
fearful of meeting Mr, Howard, for she' thought he must have
been told how naughty she had been ; but if he had, there v'as
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
1S6 HOME INFLUEKCE.
nothing in his Jiiaimer lo say so; for he sliook hands with her
and even kissed her laost kindly, and toSd her, Jaughingly, thai
she must be quit* well by the next night, or how was she to
dance ? That he thought it would be a good thing if Emme-
line could give her a little of her dancing mania, as she hardly
ever only walked, even when she called herself quite sober.
Edward, eveiy passing thought of self-reproach banished by
bis Bister's return to favor, was in the wildest spirits; Percy
and Emmeline seemed to have laid a wager who coiild say the
wittiest things and laugh the moat, Herbert was very quiet^
but looking as happy as the rest, and quite entering into their
mirth, and showing all sorts of Httle gentle attentions to Ellen,
who had seemed to shrink from his eye, more than from all the
others. Caroline fully entered into the spirit of the evening,
but neither she nor Miss Harcourt took the same notice of
Ellen as the rest. The person who was to act the Wizard's
part, and by means of a long wand detach the various treasures
from the tree, and carry them to tie owners whose names they
bore, was always chosen by lot ; and great was the delight of
the young party, when this night the office fell on Mr. Howard.
Mo one seemed more pleased than himself, performing it with
such a spirit of enjoyment and originahty, that a general vote
declared him the very choicest wizard they had ever had. To
enumerate all the contents of that marvellous ti'ee would he
impossible. Their parents' gifts to each of them were not in
the tree, but always given afterward ; but great was the de-
light, when; after a terrible tussle to detach a lai^e roll of
cioth, down it came, right on Mr. Howard's head, and almost
enveloped him with its folds, and proved to he a beaiitifnl
cover, which he had long desired for a favorite table in his
drawing-room ; at the embroidered border of which, not only
the three gh'ls, but Mrs. Hamilton and Miss Harcourt had all
worked, as a joint offering of love and respect, TIlis good man
was so charmed, that he declared he would not use his wand
again till he had full five minutes to admire it. Then there
was a very pretty, comfortable pair of slippers, worked by
Caroline and Emmehne for their father, and a pair of braces
worked by Ellen, all accompanied by some most ludicrous, but
very clever verses from Percy. Edward, who was very in
genious, had turned a very pretty stand for his uncle to put his
watch in at night ; and maAufactured two little vessels oi t of
cork for his aunt, so delicately, and neatly, that she promised
him they should stand on the mantelpiece of her dressin[f-room,
as long as they would last. Caroline had knitted her mother a
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUESCE. 157
V Ty pretty bag, and Emmeline and Ellen had collected for hei
a variety of leaves throughout the year, and arranged them
with great faste, both as to grouping and tintiag, in a sort of
Bmall herbal, with two or three lines of poetry, selected and
carefully written by each alternately, attached to each page,
Blrs. Hamilton was excessively pleased, as she was also with a
portfolio formed by drawings from both her boys, and tastefully
made up by Miss Harcourt s and with their gifts to their father,
a correct and most beautifully written out Greek poem, whicli
Mr. Hamilton had several months, if not more than a year
before, expressed a wish to pbssess, but the volume which con
tadned it was so scarce, and so expensive from the quantity
of uninteresting matter in which the gem was buried, that he
liad given up all thought of it. Herbert, however, had not, and
never rested from the time his father spoke, till he had found
and copied it a task of no small difficulty, for the origmal
was in many parts almost entirely effaced, and, if Herbert had
not been an admirable Greek scholar, and a quick ima^aator
as to what it ought to be, Mr. Howard himself had said he
could not have succeeded. The writing of the Greek character
was most beautiful, and Percy, in imitation of the ancient mis-
sals, had designed and painted an elegant illuminated border
round it, and a beautiful cover forming a thin volume, so valua-
ble, their father delighted them by sajiag, that he would not
exchange it for twenty of the most precious volumes in his
hbrary. Such evidences of the home influence they had given,
in permitting leisure for the cultivation of taste and imaginar
tion, teaching them the beautiful, and opening innumerable
resources of enjoyment within themselves, and thence allowing
them to enhance the pleasures of others, were indeed most
gratifying to those earnest and affectionate guardians. From
their earliest years they had been taught, that to give the great-
est amount of pleasure to their parents, their gifta must be all,
or at least have something in them, of their own workmanship,
and to enable them to do this, the lads had been taught in
Iheir hours of recreation to use all sorts of tools, visiting and
knowing something of a variety of handicrafts ; and the girls
to work and draw, and even bring the stores of Nature to their
aid when needed, as in the present case, with Emmeline and
Ellen's tasteful gift.
Our young readers must call upon their own imagination as
to the other treasures of this valuable tree ; for, as they would,
no doubt, like to know what sort of New Year's gifts Mr. and
Mrs Hamilton had in store for their children (for Miss Har-
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IfiS HOMK INFLUENCE.
courj too, for they never ijnlitted her,) we really musi- not linger
round it any longer. Poor Ellen, indeed, had the pain of feui-
ing that her fault and its consec[ueiicea had prevented the com-
pletion of her purse for Percy, and a chain for Edward, and
her cheek burned very painfully, when Mr. Howard, after ex-
hausting the tree, exdaimed
" ^Nothing from Ellen for Percy and Edward, Young geu-
ilemen, have you been receiving any ^ts in secret? out
with them if you have it is against all law and propriety."
" We shall receive them next week, most potent conjurer,
as you ought to have known without inquiring," answered
Percy, directly ; and bending over Ellen, by whom he chanced
to he standing, he said, kindly, " Never mind, Nelly, you will
have time to finish them both next week."
"Do not say 'nevermind,' my dear boy, though I admire
and sympathJKe in your kind care of your cousin's feelings,''
said his mother, in the same low lone, as only to be heard by
him and Ellen. (Mr. Howard was very quick-sighted, and he
took Percy's jest and turned off all further notice of his words.)
" Even such a little thing as this in Ellen's case is pain, and
can only be felt as such ; we do not lessen it by denying it, my
Ellen, do we?"
"I would rather feel it, if it virould help me to remember,"
was Ellen's earnest and humble reply ; adding, " but I thank
you, dear Percy - you are so kind."
" Not a bit," was his laughing answer. " Why, what in the
world is this ? " he added ; " I thought the tree was exhausted,"
" So it is, but this was hid at its root," replied Mr. Howard,
" and though it is directed to CaroUne, it is somewhat too
heavy for my wand, and must reach her in a more natural
"Why, it is my flower, my own beautiful flower, or one
exactly like it, at least," exclaimed Caroline, joyfully, as, re-
moving a hollow pyramid of green and white paper, a myrtlb
was discovered of the same rare kind, and almost in as beauti-
ful flower as the one whose death had caused such increased
coldness in her feelings toward Ellen. " How did it come
who could have procured it for me ? "
" EOis sent for it at ny q t d ar C 1 ne," answered
Ellen, " She said they w re 1 b p ha d trom the gar
dener at Powderham, and f t w poss bl t send any one
BO fai', sh3 would endea t g t n f m ohe told me
yesterday she had succ ded a d I th ht h gave it you,
as I begged her, directly I had n pp tun ty to tell you
before, but T was so very, very ony I had 1 u t yor r flower,"
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME LN'l'LUENCF l09
"Ellis was very wise fo put it among the pretty things of
iiiis evening, instead of obeying you," said her nude, kindly ,
"and I really am glad, that your great desue to replace it
made her think of sending for it, for though I meant to Live
given Caroline amiHier, I had so many things on my mmd this
week that it escaped me ; and I know they are so much sought
for, "Wilson has scarcely ever one on hand."
"Indeed, papa, you were much too kind to tiiink about it at
all," said Caroline, very earnestly. " I am afraid, if you know
how very cross and unkind the loss of the other made me, you
would have withdrawn your idea of such indulgence. I am
very much obliged to you, Ellea," she continued much more
cordially than she had yet spoken to her coasin ; " I did not
deserve it even from yoa, for I worked myself into such an ill-
temper, as almost to believe you did it purposely, and I had
no right to think that."
It did indeed bear out its language, tkat pretty flower, for,
with this one coldness removed though Mrs. Hamilton's
trembling heart dared not hope it would be lasting love now
reigned preeminent. Every happy feeling increased when -q
the presents froni their parents each recognized something that
had been wished for, though they never remembered express-
ing it. Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton were always united in these
New Tear's gifts, though tokens of approval or occasional in-
dulgences were often given separately. There were a set of
most beautiful engravings for Percy, which for the last three
or four months he had been most anxious to possess ; but with
the recollection of former folly very fresh in his memory, he
had actually succeeded in driving them from his mind, and
gave them up as unattainable, till he was richer, at least. For
Herbert there was a fine edition of the Greek tragedians in
their original, as beautiful a work of art, in its " getting up,"
as Percy called it, as its letter-press, which to Herbert was
beyond all price.- Edward was almost wild, as his uncle and
aunt teUing him he was fourteen next March, and might not
be with them nest New Year's eve, presented him with a
treasure coveted beyond all other, a gold watch. {His father'a
had been given by his mother as a parting gift to Captain
Cameron.) Mr. Howard deolared that it was much too good
frr a, sailor, and would be lost his first voyage; he had much
oetter hand it over to the Rectory, promising to take every
care of it ; but looking so mischievous, Edward vowed it should
not get near his hand. For Caroline was a most coaiplrifl
and tlegantly fitfd-up embroidery-box, which quiie chE.nted
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160 HOME INFLUENCE.
her, for it was exactly like, if not more tasteful and eomplele,
than one Annie Gratame had brought from London, ajid whicb
ehe had wondered, Caroline could " exist " without. As Jlr.
and Mrs. Hamilton found that she could not only comfortably
" exist," but much as she admired and had at first so coveted
it, as to have a hard battle with digcontent, she had never even
histed that it might be useful. As they perceived that hei
mind was so happily engrossed by the idea of the pleasure hei
gifits would bestow, ^ not to cast a thought upon Annie'^
superior box, they indulged themselves and their child, and
were more than repaid by the beaming look of delight with
which it was received. For Emmeline was a parcel almost as
large as herself, Percy declared. "A drawing-box all to your-
self. Tiny ! Thank goodness ! My chalks and pencils have
some chance of being let alone ; I really ought to thank mam-
ma and papa quite as much, if not more, than you, considering
that in giving you a new possession they have preserved me
an old one, which I began to suspect would desert me piece by
piece. "What, more ?" he continued, laughing at his sistei^'s
almost scream of delight, as she undid the covering of a book,
and found it to be the complete poem of the " Lady of the
Lake," extracts of which she had read in the reviews, and so
revelled in them, child as she was, as to commit them all to
memory, with scarce an effort, only longing to know the whole
"And now, NeUy, what is your secret? etiil larger than
Tiny's ; what can it be ? Come, guess ; I have you in my
power, for you are not strong enough to race mo as Em would,
and so I will be more merciful. What of all things would you
like the best? one, two, three guesses, and then I'll relieve
you ; I want to know if papa and mamma have looked into
your secret chamber of wishes, as they have done in all oi
" Do not be afraid of guessing, Ellen ; you are so very quiet,
that your secret chamber of wishes, as Percy calls if, is more
concealed than any of the others," said her uncle, smiling; " I
am always obliged to refer to your aunt."
" Come, Nell, speak or I will indict you as unworthy of any
thing. What did you say ? a desk ! Hurrah ! then, there it
is i and wliat a beauty rosewood and mother-of-peiirl just
fitted for an elegant young lady. How could mamma have
found out so exactly ? You have used the old shabby thing
Herbert lent you, as quietly and contentedly as if there could
not be a bettpr. Do let us examine it ! " and he dragged a
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HOME raFLUENCE. 161
laUe to her sofa, and displayed to Uie delighted child all m fit-
fings-ap, and its oonveniences, and the pretty pen-holder and
pencil-case, and fancy-wafers, and seaJing-was, and a Uttle gold
seal with her own name, and every thing that could possibly be
thought of. " And even a secret drawer," exclaimed Percy,
quite proud of the discovery. " Do look, Ellen ; why, you can
keep all sorts of secrets there, for no one would be as clever as
I am to find out the spring without being told, and of course I
ahould not betray it;" and he laughingly sent away everybody
while he explained to Ellen tLe spring. For some little while
longer did the young party examine and reexamine and talk
of their own and each other's treasures. And then Mr, Ha-
milton bade them remember, that, though it was New Year's
Eve, it was Sunday evening, too,* and tiiat he had deferred the
hour of evening prayer till ten, that they might have time to
keep both, and so not lose the sacred music which was always
part of their Sunday recreation, to put away their things, and
adjourn to their music-room. And he was obeyed in a very
few minutes ; for, though they might have preferred lingering
and talking where they were, what exertion could bo too great
for those who so thought of, so cared for them ?
Eetuming happiness had had such a beneficial effect, that,
though Ellen stOl looked pale enough for her aunt not to feel
quite comfortable about her, she could walk without iiny return
of ptun, and in one or two hymns even join her voice with her
cousins', though it was weaker than usuaL However small in
appearance the talent for music, still Mrs, Hamilton cultivated
it, in her boys as well as her girb, simply for the sake of giving
them homo resources and amusements Utat could be pursued
together ; she thought it such a mistaken notion in education to
imagine that only perfection was worth attaining in the fine arts,
and that, if ther^ were not talent enough for that, it was betiei
not attempted. Many a home might have envied the feelings
with which old and young, to the lowest domestics, sought their
pillows that night ; for Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, so lavish in
their indulgence to their children, never forgot that for their
domestics and retainers there were also claims on New Tear's
Eve ; and the servants' hall, and every cottage which called
Mr. Hamilton landlord, had vied in happiness with his own.
While passing through tlie press, the scene of fhe Family Trsa has been
strongly objected to by a yaluea ChriBtinn friend, as being euftctefl on the
Sunday evening. It was too late then to repair too error. The a.ithor can
only eipressher sincere regret for a fault originating in an insufBoicnt know
iedgeof the Christian feeling toward the Siifiimth, and most earnes-Jy .trusti
the error may be pardoned.
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162 HOME INFLUENCE..
Mrs. Hamilton had visited Ellen the last thing, to see that
die was quite comfoi'table, and that there was no return of pain ;
and she was almost startled, and certainly still more bewildered
as to how such a depth of feeling could exist with such a real
childish liability to error, and why it should bo so carefully con*
cealod, by the way in which Ellen clnng to her, as she bent
over her to wish her good night, with the same unrestrained af-
fection as her own Emmeline did so often, with the only differ-
ence, that with tho latter it seemed always to spring from the
very exuberance of happiness, which could only be thus dis-
played. With EUen, this night, it appeared like some deep,
quiet feelmg, almost of devotion, and as if though Mrs. Ha-
milton's sober reason tried to persuade her imagination that it
was too much meaning to attach to a mere embrace she would
tluis tell her how intensely she felt, not only the indulgence of
that evening, but the true kindness and watchful love which
had caused the preceding sorrow. She might have thought, aa
no doubt many of our readers wiU, that Ellen was much too
young and too chiidish, to contrast her system of treatment with
her poor mother's; that she felt her soothing care in her hours
of physical suffering her indulgent love making no distinction
between her and her cousins still the more keenly and grate-
fully, from the recollection of her own mother's constant pi-efei--
ence of Edward, and utter neglect of her; and that this con-
trast so deepened the love she bore her aunt, that it exceeded
in intensity even that borne toward her by her own children.
Adults will think this all very fanciful, and perhaps interesting,
but wholly improbable. Mrs. Hamilton herself would have
banished .the idea, as too imaginary to be entertained seriously
for a moment, as any guide for her conduct. Ellen herself
could not have explained or told herself that so she felt; and
yet, notwithstanding, all we have written was there, and waa
the real prompter of that almost passionate embrace.
"Bless j-ya, my darlmg!" was Mis. Hamilton's fond reply,
instead of permitting the. child to perceive the surprise it ex-
cited in herself; and Ellen sunk to sleep, almost more happy
tlian eisr in her little life she had fp,lt before.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INiaUENCE-
CIIAPTEE XI.
TUE chilohbn's ball.
L' the thouglit of their promised bail were tLe first that in-
lered tlie minds of the young party at Oakwood, aa they opened
their eyes on New Year's day, it was not very unnatural.
Percy gloried jn the anticipation of being master of the cere-
monies, and in conducting the whole affair with, such inimitable
grace, and gallantry, that eveiy one should declare it was far
superior to any party, old or young, of the season, except Mi'.
Howard's ; that was beyond him, he said, for lie could not put
Mr. Howard's head on his shoulders. Herbert anticipated the
enjoyment of Mary GreviEe's society, talking to and dancing
with her undisturbed, and to hearing the almost universal re-
mark, what a sweet girl she was. Edward did not exactly
know what he expected, but he was in such a mood of hilarity
and mischief, that the servants all declared Master Fortescue
was "inazed." To Caroline their ball was almost always (though
unconfessedly) the happiest evening in the year. She knew
she was handsome Ajmie Grahame had told her how very
mucii she would he admii'ed in London, and that if she were
not her very dearest friend, she should envy her beauty terribly.
She often in secret longed painfuUy for admiration and homage ;
and child aa she still was in years, yet at her own bouse, and
as Mr. Hamilton's eldest daughter, in addition lo her real attrac-
tions, she always received both in sufficient measure, aa to satis-
fy even herself. She delighted in those evenings when it so
chanced that her brothers had young friends with them, making
no hesitation in confessing that she very much preferred con-
versing with boys than with girls, there was so much more va^
riety, more spirit ; and though her mother's heart would actually
tremble at the fearful ordeal which an introduction to the plea-
sures of the world would be to such a character, still she would
not chedt the open expression of such sentiments by reproving
them as wrong, and not to be encourt^d. She knew that
though education might do much, very much, it could not make
natural characters all alike; nor, in fat, did she wish it. She
did not grieve and comphiin that, witli all her elforl-s she could
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
164 HOME INFLUENCE.
not make (Jaroline give her as little trouble and ai:siety as Eai-
meline, nor did sHe imagine that slie should see tlio efFeet of her
earnest prayers and cares all at once, or without constant re-
lapses in the cherished object of her care. She did all she
could to counteract a tendency which, situated as she would be
when she entered life, must, without some strong, high prin-
ciple, lead to suffering, and, perhaps, to sin for what is co-
quetry ? But she indulged in no idea of security, never believed
that because she had so tried, so striven to bow the good seed,
it could not fail to bring forth good fruit. She knew many
trials might be in store for her; for how might she hope to pass
flirough life blessed as she was then? It might please her Fa-
ther in Heaven to try her faith and duty through those she loved
BO intensely; but if she foiled not in-her task, he would bring
her joy at last.
To Emmeline the idea of dancing waa quite enough to be
the acme of enjoyment The only drawback was, that in the
intervals of rest, there was to be a little music, and though het
mother had excused her at Mr. Howard's, she knew that if any
body expressed a wish to hear her at her own house, play she
must ; and at those times she waa half sorry she had chosen to
learn the harp instead of the piano, as Caroline played so well
on the latter instrument nobody would care to hear her; but
the harp was rather a novelty, and no little girl who was com-
ing played it, and so she was sadly afraid there waa no escape
for her, and that was very disagreeable, but she would not
think about it tall the time came ; the dancing to such music as
that which Mr. Hamilton had ordered from Plymouth was joy
enough.
Ellen though rather afraid of so many strangers, could not
resist the general contagion of anticipated enjoyment. She did
not indeed wake with the thought of the ball, but with the de-
termination to learn the verse of the Fsalm her aunt bad point-
ed out, and go and say it to her in her dressing-room before
she went down. And as the first verao was very short she
learned two, and repeated them without missing a word, and so
as if sh.6 quite understood them, that her aunt waa very much
pleased ; and then EUen could tliink of and join her brother's
and cousins' delight, even though Mrs. Hamilton was obhged
to be what she called very crue!, but what Ellen knew waa
very kind, though it did seem a restraint, and keep her very
quiet all day, instead of letting her run about from room to
room, as Emmeline and Edward, and even Percy did, far fear
of another headache ; and so well did quietness succeed, tliai
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HOME INFLUENCE. 165
slie looked and was unusually well, and so was almost lively by
the evening.
Just before dinner, Percy, who had gone to ride because he
said he was sure he should get into some scrape if he did not
give a natural vent to his spirits, galloped back in company
with a gentleman, whose presence seemed to occasion him still
greater excitement.
" Where is my mother ? and is ray father at home ? " he
asked impatiently, flinging, his horse's rein to Rohert, desiring
him to take every care of the gentleman's horse, as he shouhl
not let him leave Oakwood that night ; aad rushing across the
hall threw open the door of their common sitting-room, and
exclaimed
" Mother, give me a vote of thanks and praise for my invin-
cible eloquence ! Here is this anchorite, this monk of the
moor, who, when I first encountered him, seemed so doughty a
denier of my wishes, actually conquered led a slave to your
feet ; reward me by throwing all the fascinations you possibly
can in his way, that he may only dream of his cold ride and
desolate cottage on Dartmoor to-night."
"Be quiet, madcap!" repHed Mrs. Hamilton, rising with
very evident pleasure, and coming forward with extended
hand ; " your noisy welcome wiU not permit mine to be heard.
This is indee.d a pleasui-e, Mr. Morton," she added, addressing
the young clergyman with that earnest kindness, which always
goes to the heart, " and one that Mr. Hamilton will most
highly appreciate if, as I trust, the chains my son has tlirown
over you, are not so heavy as to become painM."
" I should rather fear the pain will be in casting them ofF,
Mrs. Hamilton, not in the wearing them," replied Mr. Morton,
ahnost sadly ; " it is the knowledge, that minghng as often in
your home circle as Mr, Hamilton and my friend Percy desire,
would wholly unfit me for the endurance of my loneliness, that
keeps me so aloof, believe me. Inclination would act a very
difierent part, but there was no resisting such eloquence and
such happiness as his to-day," he continued, more gayly.
And Mr. Hamilton and Herbert entering as he spoke, their
greeting was quite as warm and eager as Percy's and his mo-
ther's, and Mr, Morton gave himself up, for the evening at
least, to enjoyment. His own generous nature had been par-
licuiarly struck by Percy's manly conduct with regard to hia
satire, and different as were their characters, a warm friend-
ship from that moment commenced between ihem. It was
impossible to resist Percy's warm-he ai-tedness of woi-d ani
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ICO HOME INFLUENCE.
dead; and that lie would sometimes leave "his luxurious home
and slay two or three days with Mr. Morton, seeming actually
to enjoy the rude cottage and its desolate localities, and spread
such a spirit of mirth within and around, that it was no wonder
the afflicted young man looked to his society as almost liia
greatest pleasure, especially as he felt he dared not too often
accept Mr. Hamilton's continually-proffered invitation. Oak-
wood was the home which had been his heau ideal for long
years, but which now seemed wholly unattainable. He felt
himself doomed to sohtude and suffering, and the struggle for
content and cheerfulness was always more painful after he had
been with his friends.
When all preparations for the evening were concluded, even
the respective toilets completed, Percy and Emmeline found il
impossible to resist trying the spring, as they called it, of the
oaken floors, (whence the carpets had been removed,) and
amused themselves by waltzing in the largest circle they could
make. The beautiful suit of rooms were all thrown open, and
perceiving Caroline standing by the piano in an adjoining apart-
ment, Percy called out
" Play us a waltz, Caroline, there's a love ; the very liveliest
you can find, Tiny and I want to try the boards while we can
enjoy them to perfection, that is, when we are the only persons
in tlie room."
" You must excuse me^ Percy," she replied somewhat pet-
tishly ; " I should think you would have dancing enough in the
course of the evening ; and what will our friends thiak, if they
come and find me playing?"
"Think? why, that you are very obliging, which at present
you are not," answered Pei-cy, laughing ; " never mind, Emmy ;
let us try what our united bugs will do."
"Ton may if yoa like, Percy, but really I am not deve;
enough fo dance and sing at the same time I should have nc
breath left," was her joyous rejoinder.
" Come and dance, Caroline, if you wiU not play," exclahned
Edward, who after decorating his button-hole with a, sprig of
hoUy, seemed seized with Percy's dancing-mania. " Do give
me an opportunity of practising the graces before I am called
upon to display them."
" My love of dancing is not so great as to attempt it without
music, so practise by yourself, Edward," was Caroline's quick
" Without spectators, you mean, Lina," observed her brother,
very dryly; and as Emmeline begged liim not to tease her, ht
Lsked
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME lOTLUENCE. 107
" "What has jiut her in this ill-humor, Emuiy ? "
" Oh, I don't know exactly ; but if yaa let her aloiif;, slie will
*)on recover it."
" Well, to please you, I will ; for you look so pi'cffy lo-iilgii!,
I cannot resist you."
" Take care, Percy, if you try f o tui-n my head with such
speeches, I shall go to Edwai-d, and punish you hy not walta-
iug with you," said his little sister, sliaking her head at him
with a comic species of reproach.
" That's right, Emmy ; do not t&ke flattery even from a
brother," said her father, coming forwai-d with a smile ; " but
will you not tire youreelfby dancing already?"
" Ob, no, papa ; I feel as if I could dance all night withcuf
stopping."
"Not with me, Erameline," rejoined I'ercy, shrugging his
shouldera with horror at tlie idea ; " I sliould cry you mercy,
tefore one half the time liad elapsed."
" Bat if you are not to be tired, will you not spoil youi' dress,
and disorder all these flowing curls," continued Mr. Hamilton,
" and surely that will he a great misfortune."
" Indeed it will not, papa ; Percy has surely too much regard
for me, to wilfully huil. my frock, and if my hair should be so
troublesome as to get out of order, Fanny wUl rean-ange it in
" If you wish to cftuse alarm on that score, my dear father,"
swd Percy, with marked emphasis, " You must go to Caroline,
not to Emmeline. Thank goodness, I have one sister above
such petty misfortunes."
" Are you not too iiard upon Caroline, Percy ? "
" Yes, papa, he is indeed ; do not mind what he says," an-
swered Emmeline, very es^erly ; but Percy said, impetuously
" I am not, Emmeline. I would lay any wager that some-
thing has gone wrong with her dressing, to-night, and so made
her pettish. Her frock is not smart enough, or she does not
wear the ornaments she wished, or some such thing."
Caroline had fortunately quitted the music-room, or. this
speech would not have tended to restore her serenity; bnt be-
fore Jlr. Hamilton could reply, Edward, who had been fo seek
Ellon, hurst into tlie room exclaiming
" Now, Percy, we may have a proper walta ; aunt Emmelme
gays we may Eave just one before any one comes, and here slie
is to play for us, and Ellen for my partner," and tliey enjoyfsi
it in earnest. Mr, Hamilton watched them for a few minutes,
Hnd then went to seek his elder girl.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
168 HOME INPLUEKCE.
She was alone in a litile room prepared for i
tastefully arranging some beautiful flowers in a bouquet. Sbe
looked up as he entered, and so smiled that her fond father
Aought Percy must be wrong, for there certainly seemed no
traee of ill-temper.
"Why are you not with your brothers and sister in the draw-
ing-room, my dear? and why did you just now refuse your
brother such a trifling favor as playing a waltz ? " he asked, but
BO kindly, that Caroline, though she blushed deeply, instaotly
replied
" Because, papa, my tmper was not quite restored ; I went
into the music-room to try mamma's remedy of solitude for a
few minutes, but Percy spoke to me before I had succeeded.
I know I answered him pettishly, but indeed, papa," she added,
looking up earnestly in his face, "indeed he is very provoking
sometimes."
" I know he is, my love ; he does not always know how to
time his jokes, or to make sufiicient allowance for dispositions
not exactly like his own ; but tell me, what first occasioned tem-
per so to fail that solitude was necessary."
Caroline's blush became stitl deeper, and she turned away
her head saying, very hesitatingly
"For such a very, very silly reason, papa, that I do not like
to tell you."
"Nay, my dear, do not fear that I shall either laugh at or
reproaeh you. If you feel yourself how very silly it was, I
am not afraid of its gaining too great ascendency, even if you
fail again."
"It was only only that I was not quite satisfied with
the dress mamma desii-ed me to wear to-night, papa j that waa
all, indeed."
"You wished, perhaps, to wear a smarter one, my love,"
replied her father, kissing her glowing cheek so affectionately,
that the pain of her confession was instantly soothed; "but
indeed, I think mamma has shown a much better taste. It re-
quires more care than you are yet perhaps awtire of, to dress
so exactly aecording to our age and station, as to do ourselves
justice, atid yet excite no unpleasant feelings in those of a
lower, and no contempt in those of a higher grade. Many of
our friends who are coming to-night eoiild not afford to dress
their children as we might ours, and do you not think it would
be both inhospitable and unkind, by being over-dressed, to ex-
cite any unpleasant feeling of inferiority in their minds, when
actually none exists ? for difference of fortune alone can neve^
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 169
eonstitote jtiferiorily. I am wizard enough to guess that was
mamma's reason for jour bemg attired so simply and yet so
prettily to-niglit, and equally wizard enough to guess your rea-
son for wishing to he smarter shall I tell it you ? " he added,
playfully. " Because you fancy Miss Grahame will bo attired
in such a Tery fashionable London costume, that yours will ap-
pear so very plain and so childish. I see by that conscious
smile, I have guessed correctly ; but, indeed, I would not ex-
change my dear ingenuous Carolme, even were she attired in
the cottager's stuff frock, for Annie Grahame, did she bring
worlds as her dowry. And as you like ornaments, wear this,"
he added, tastefully twining a superb sprig of scarlet geranium
in the rich dark hair that shaded Caroline's noble brow ; "and
if mamnia inquires, teU her your father placed it there, as a
token of his approbation, for temper conquered and truth un-
hesitatingly spoken spite of ptwn."
CaroUne's brilliant eye sparkled with a moi-e delightful sense
of pleasure than any trimnph of dress could have bestowed,
and in answer to her father's inquiry, for whom she had ar-
ranged such a beautiful bouquet, she said
"It is for mamma, dear papa Emmeline is always before
me ; but I think the idea of to-night's enjoyment has so bewil-
dered her, that she has forgotten it, so I may just have time to
present it before any one comes," and she hastened with her
fether to the drawing-room, where she found Mrs. Greviile and
her two children (for Alfred was at home for a few months,)
in addition to Mr. Morton and their own family group ; and the
young clergyman could not but admire tbe natural grace with
which Caroline, after warmly welcoming her guests, presented
her flowers to her mother. It was a very little thing, but the
joys and griefs of home are almost all made up of little things
and Mrs. Hamilton was pleased, not from the attention alone,
but that it proved, trifling as it was, that the annoyance and
discontent which her command had occasioned in her child had
left no unldnd feeling behind them ; and the manner with which
she received it made Caroline very happy, for she had inwardly
feared her ill-temper not only deserved, but had excited her
mother's displeasure.
Emmeliae's look of disappointment and self-reproach at her
own unusual forgetfulnesa was so irresistibly comic, that Percy
and Edward bttrst into an immoderate lit of laughter, which
the former only checked to ask Caroline where she had been,
and what she had done, to produce such an ex.traordinai'y
change for the better in her appe^-ance in so short a time
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
170 HOME INFLUENCE.
' Oh, you have no right to my secrets, Percy," was her per-
liclly good-humored reply; "I do not think I shall answer
you, except by having die charity to refer you to papa, who
has produced the change."
" By means of fhia pretty fiowcr, then, I imagine," said Mrs.
Hamilton ; " its power I do not pretend to know, but the taste
with which it is placed might vie with that of the most ftishion-
ibie artists of the metropolis. Mrs. GreviUe do unite with
me in congratulating Mr. Hamilton on his new accomplish-
The rapid succession of arrivals prevented any further re-
mark, and very speedily the inspiring sound of the beautiful
music, which was stationed in a sort of antechamber between
the drawing-room and ball-room, removed any thing like stiff-
ness or reserve which the younger guests might have at first
experienced among themselves. After two or three quadrilles,
the" spirit of enjoyment seemed to reign alone, not only among
the dancers themselves, but even thKe who sat out and talked,
either from preference or because the sets were fuU. Percy,
his brother, and cousin, were so active, so universal in their
attention and politeness, that all had the same measure of
enjoyment ; there was no sitting down four or five times con-
secutively for any one, and therefore neither weariness nor
dissatisfaofion. Where there is a great desire in the givers
of a party to make every one as happy as themselves, and
thoroughly to enjoy it, they seldom fail to succeed. And there
was such a variety of amusements in the various rooms that
were thrown open, suitable for all ages from the mammas
and papas to the youngest child, that it was scarcely possible
to feel any thing but pleasure. Very many sets had been
formed and danced before the Graharae family appeared, and
as Caroline glanced at her friend and even at her little sister,
it required a very vivid recollection of her father's words to
prevent a feehng of false shame, while Annie looked at Em-
mehne and even her favorite Caroline for a few minutes with
almost contempt.
" People talk so very much of Mrs. Hamilton's taste," she
thought, " but she can have n me in dress, that's cerla,in why
no one could distinguish her daughters from the poorest gen-
tleman's here ! But no one can mistake my rank. Thank
goodness, there is not a dress like mine how it will be en-
If looks were evidence of 6nvy, Annie had them to hei
heart's e mtent, but how would she have been mortified, could
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUEHCE. 171
fibe have lead tlie secret meaning of those looks, the contrast
drawn, between the manners and appearance of Lady Helen's
daughters and those of the Honorable Mrs. Hamilton. Lady
Helen herself, indeed, when she saw Caroline and Emmeline,
was quite provoked that she had been so weak as to permit,
And even encourage Annie, to select her own and her sister'a
costume.
" You are so late," said Mrs. Hamilton, as she came forward
to greet them, " that I almost gave you up, fearing I don't
exactly know what, I do hope nothing unpleasant has occa-
sioned it."
" Oh no," was Mr. Grahame's reply, and it was almost bit-
ter ; " only Miss Grahame was so dreadiuUy afraid of being
unfashionabiy early, that her motlier did not choose to come
before indeed, my patience and my little Lilla's was so ex-
hausted that wo thought of leaving Cecil to be their beau, and
coming alone an hour ago." Lady Helen's look of entreaty at
Mrs. H^nilton was answered by her saying directly
"I suppose Annie was thinking of her London parties, and
forgot how completely Gothic we are as to hours and every
thing else in Devonshire. But you must try and foi^et such
superior pleasures to-night, my dear girl," she added, jestingly,
though the young lady felt it rather uncomfortably as earnest,
''orlfear you will find but Httle amusement." Alfred Gre-
ville at that moment came to claim Annie as his partner, and
she gladly joined him, for though Mrs.' Hamilton had "cer-
tainly no taste in dress," she never felt quite at her ease in
her presence. Cecil and Lilla were soon provided with little
pai'tners, and dancing with much more real delight than their
sister.
It was scarcely possible for any one, much less a parent, fo
look at Caroline that night without admiration. She wag so
animated, so graceful, so pleasing, and as such completely the
3entre of attraction (and really without any effort on her part)
to all the gentlemen, young or old, in the room; The lads
congregated round her, and it was rather a difficult task to
keep clear of offence, when so very many more entreated her
to dance than the length of the evening permitted ; but she
managed to talk to aU, and yet not to neglect any of her own
sex, for she always refused to dance, if she fancied her being
in a quadrille prevented any couple who had not danced so
much, and at those times contrived to conciliate five or six in-
stead of only one. Emmehne took charge of the younger child-
ren, of^en ref'ising to dance with older boys, who would have
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
172 HOME INFLUENCE.
made her much pleasanter partners, that she might join liie
little .quadrille and set them all right.
"I am reaiiy glad to see Ellen among us to-night, and seem-
ing ti'uly to enjoy herself," said Mi-s. GreTille, addressing Mrs
Hamilton, who was standing rather apart at the moment, -watch-
ing Caroline with such mingled feelings of pride and dread,
that she was quite glad when her friend's voice disturbed her
train of thought. " She looked so ill in church yesterday, that
I half feared we should not see her. I told her I was quite
grieved that she was too unwell to be at Mr. Howard's la.sl
Friday, and "
" What did she say ? " inquired Mrs, Hamilton, anxiously.
"That it was not Ulness which prevented her; but she looked
so confused and pained that I changed the subject directly, and
the smile soon came back."
"You touched on a very jainfu! theme," replied Mrs. Hamil-
ton, with real relief; "Ellen and I were not quite as good
friends as wo usually are, last week, and my poor little girl felt
my severity more than I imagined or meant, 1 gave her to
your dear Mary's especial care to-night, for she is so timid, that
left quite to herself, I was afraid it would be more pain than
pleasure. Mary has taken my hint most admirable, for EUen
seems quite happy."
"It would be rather hard, if your httle niece's were tlie only
sad face in this scene of enjoyment ; surely, if ever there wei^e
happiness without alloy, it is here."
" If you think so, Mrs. Greville, you will agree with my fiiend
Morton, who has just been half poetizing, half philosophizing on
this scene," said Mr. Hamilton joining them, with the young
clergyman loaning on his arm, "He says there is something
singularly interesting in watohing the countenances and move-
ments of children, and in tracing the dawnings of respective
characters."
" Ton are not one of ttose, then, who think childhood a mere
negative species of existence," rejoined Mrs. Greville.
"Indeed I do not; there is much more pleasure fo me in
watching such a scene, than a s imilar one of adults. It is full
of that kind of poetry, which, from the beauty and freshness tif
the present, creates a future of happiness or sorrow, good or
evil, as something in each countenance seems dimly to foretell.
How many will be the longing thoughts thrown back in after
years upon to-night!"
"Po you think, then, childhood the happiest season of life?"
He answered in the affirmative, bnt Mr. Hamilton shook his
head.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
liOMK INFLUENCE. 173
"I differ from you, my good friend," he said. "Cliildiiood
feels its griefs as bitterly as those of maturer years, "We are
apt to tldnk it was all joj in tlie retrospect, perhaps because it
has not the anxiety and cares of riper years, but sorrow itself
is felt as keenly. From reason not being perfectly formed, the
difficulty to control self-will, to acquiesce in the to them incom-
prehensible wishes of parents or guardians, the restraint they
are often compelled to use, must be all trials even to well-regu-
lated children, and to Uiose subject to the caprices of weakness,
indolence, neglect, indulgence at one time, and tyranny at an-
other, feehngs disbelieTed in, and therefore never studied or
soothed the little h'eavt thrown back upon itself Morton,
believe me, these are trials as full of suffering, and as hard to
be endured, as those which belong lo manhood,"
"You may be right," replied Morton; "but do you not think
there is an elasticity in cluldhood which fliaga off sorrow, and
can realize happiness sooner than older years ? "
"Undotibtedly, and most happy it is that they are so consti-
tuted, eise what would become of them? their susceptibilities
for either- joy or sorrow are equally quick. If the former did
not balance the latter, how would their tender frames and quick
affections bear their burden? The idea that childhood is in
itself the happiest season in life is so far mischievous, that it
prevents the necessary care and watchfulness, which alone can
make it so. But we mast not philosophize any more, for it has
made us all grave. I see my wife is addressing Miss Grahame,
and I think it is for music. Come, Morton, lake Mrs. G-reville
to the music-room, and woo melody instead of poetry for the
next half hour. Miss Grahame promises to be a very fair mu-
sician, so you will be charmed."
They adjourned to the music-room, where Percy had already
gallanUy conducted Annie ; and several of the gu^ts, young and
old, seconded the move. Annie Grahame really played re-
markably well, so far as execution and brilliancy were con-
cerned, and Mrs. Hamilton was delighted at the expression of
Grahame's face as he listened to his child and the applause she
excited. " Why will he not try to win his home-affections," she
thought, "when he is so formed to enjoy them? and why, why
has Helen so indolently, so foolishly cast away her happiness ? "
was tlie thought that followed at the contrast which Lady
Helen's face presented to her husband's ; she knew Annio
played well, she had heard it from very superior judges, and
how could it concern her what the present company thought?
A very pretty vocal duet from the two sisters followed, ami
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
'74 HOME' mFLUENCE
coon aft^rivard Caroline approached the muaic-stand, ;;ieai
which Percy and Mr. Mortoa were talking, and Perej', witli
liis usual l0e of provoking, exclaimed
"Ypu surely are not going to play after Miss Grahame,
Caroline. If your powers deserted you a few hours ago, and
prevented the execution of a waltz, they would certainly do
you a charity in deserting you completely now."
Caroline's cheek bumed, but she answered, with spirit
"Mamma desired me to oblige my friends, Percy ; and she
would not do so, if ahe thought I should disgrace myself or
Ler."
" Do not heed your brother. Miss Hamilron," interposed Mr.
Morton, taking the music from her, and offering her his arm to
lead her to the piano. "I have had the pleasure of hearing
yon often, and those who cannot find an equal, if not superior
eharra in your playing to Miss Grahame's do not deserve to
listen."
" Nay, you must be flattering, Mr. Morton ; think of Annie's
advantages."
"Indeed, my dear Misa Hamilton, yours exceed'hera; no
master's heart is in his 'pupil's progress, . as a mother's in her
child's, even should she not; teach,; hut merely superiiitend."
Caroline waa seated at the instrument as he spoke, and there
was sometliing in his few words touching a right chord ; for as
she began to play she certwnly thought. more. of her mother
than any one else; and determined, if possible, that, others
should think with Mr. Morton, forgetting at the moment thai
very few, except their own immediate circle, knew whose pupil
she. was, not imagining that the mistress of.Oakwood aad its
lai'ge possessions could have time or inclination for any part of
the education of her daughters. Mor,ton waa certainly .right
as to the amount of admiration, equaling, if not surpassing,
that bestowed oti Miss Grahame ; there was a soul, a depth of
expression and feeling, in Caroline's far simpler piece, that won
its way to the hesirt at once, and if it did not surprise aa much,
it pleased more, and excited an earnest wish to listen to her
again.
"Does not your yoiinger daughter play i* " inquired a lady,
who had been much attracted with Emmeline.
" Very little, compared with her sister," replied Mrs. Hamil
ton; she is not nearly, so fond of it,, and ^erefore does not
devote so much time to its acquirement just yet."
" Do you think it right to permit children to follow ' heir own
inclinations witlj regard to their education?" askec' another,
rather stern-iooking lady, with much surprise.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 173
"Only witt regard fo their aceomplialimenta ; my Emmcliiio
la as fond of drawing as Caroline is of music, and therefore 1
indulge her hj jiei'mitting her to give more time lo the one
than to the other."
"But do you think naturalJaSte can he traced so early? that
it can be distinguished from idleness or perverseness ? "
"Indeed, I do," replied Mrs. Hamilton, earnestly. "If a
child be allowed leisure to choose its own pui-suits, and not
always confined to the routine of a schoolroom, natural taste,
for some employment in preference to another will, I think.
always display itself. Not that I would depend entirely on that,
because I think it right and useful to cultivate a taste for all the
fine BTts, only giving more time to that which is llie favorite.
My niece has shown no decided taste for any particular pursuit
yet; but I do not neglect the cultivation of accomplishments on
tbataecount! if, in a few years, a. preference manifests itself,
it win be quite time enough to work hard at that particular
branch."
" Is. that pretty little harp used by either of your daughters ? "
inquired the first speaker. " It looks very much as if it were
the especial property of my engaging little friend."
"Your, guess is correct' replied Mrs. Hamilton, smiUng,
" Emmeline was quite sure she should hate music, if she must
leam the great ugly piano. If she might only have a harp, she
would do all she could to learn, and she really has."
" And may we not hear her ? "
"When the room is not quite so full ; she has not half her
sister's confidence, and so large an audience would frighten
away all her little powers ; but I will promise you a very sweet
song instead," she added, as Herbert approached, Jnd eagerly
whispered some request. "That is, if my persuasions can pre-
vail on my young friend ; Mra, Greville, must I ask your in-
fluence, or will mine be enough ? "
"What, with Mary? I ratlier think, your request in this
?ase will be of more weight than vmine ; " and a few minutes
afterward Mrs. Hamilton led the. blushing, timid girl in triumph
to the piano. Her voice, wiiich was peculiarly sweet and thnll-
ing, though not strong, trembled audibly as she commenced ;
but Herbert was turning oyer the leaves of her music, his mo-
ther was standing close beside her, and after the first few bars
her enthusiastic spirit forgot the preseace of all, save fliose sha
loved, and the spirit of her song.
Mrs. Hamilton never listened to and looked at her at such
momeni s without a trembling foreboding she vainly struggled
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
176 HOME INFLUENCE.
to overcfHne. Thera was something in those deei blue, earnest
eyes, the hectic Color that with- the least exertion, rose to hei
cheek, the transparency of complexion, the warm and elevated
spirit, the almost angel temper and endurance in her peculiarly
tried lot, that scarcely seemed of earth ; and never was that
sad foreboding stronger than at that moment, as she looked
round the crowd of young and' happy faces, and none seemed
to, express the same as Mary's. She could scarcely command
her voice and smile sufScieotly to warmly thank her young
favorite as she ceased; but Mary was more than satisfied by
the fond pressure of her hand.
This little interrnptiou to the a^al business of the evening
only increased the zest and enjoyment, when dancing recom-
menced. Even the call lo supper was obeyed with reluctance,
and speedily accomplished, that they might return the sooner
to the ball-room. The hours had worn away, it seemed, on
gossamer-wings, and as each bappy child felt assured that the
delight could not htst much longer, the longing to dance to the
very last moment seemed to increase. Emmeline's escitable
spu-it had thrown off all aEoy, for it was quite impossible any
one would think of asking her to play now ; she had arranged
all the remaining couples for the i-oom had begun very much
to ,thin for tlie favorite haymaker's country dance,* and ac-
cepting Edward as her own partner, and being unanimously
desired to take the top, led off her young friends with such
spirit and grace, and so little semblance of fatigue, that it cer-
tainly appeared as if she would verify her own words, sifd
dance all night.
Miss Gtrahame had declared it was much too great a romp,
and decline's joining it. Caroline, who would have enjoyed it,
more out of politeness to her friend than inclination, sat down
with her, and a cheerfid group of some of the older lads, and
one or two young ladies, joined- them. Herbert and Mary find-
ing the quadriUe for which they were engaged, changed lo a
dance for which, though they had quite the spirit, they had not
the physical strength, enjoyed a quiet chat instead, and Ellen
seated herself by her favorite Mary, declining, from fatigue,
Alfred Greville's entreaty that she would second Emmehne.
"I declare 1 could dance myself with that merry group,"
exclaimed Mr, Grahame, afler watching them some time, and
lUI his austerity banished by the kindly spirit of the evening.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME IBKLUENCE. 177
" Mrs. Hamilton, Mrs. GreTille, do one of you lake piiy on
me, and indulge my fancy."
Both ladies laughingly hegged to be excused, offering, how*
ever, to introduce him to a partner,
" No ; it must be oae of you or none at all. That little
sylph of yours, Mrs. Hamilton, seema inclined to dance for you
and herself too. What a pretty couple she and that handsome
coasin of hers make I And there goes my little Lilla I do
hopel mayhare one really happy child. What, tired, Percy
compelled to give up absolutely exhausted ? "
" Indeed I am," answered Percy, who had waltzed his part-
ner very cleverly out of the line, and, after giving her a scat,
threw himself on a lai^e ottoman.
" Mother, if you do not put a stop io Emmeline's proceed-
ings, her strength will entirely fail, and down she and Edward
will go, and the rest foUow, just like a pack of cards. Do,
pray, prevent such a catastrophe, for I assure you it is not in
the least unlikely."
The gravity witH which he spoke caused a general laugh ;
but Mrs. Hamilton, feeling by the l^igth of time the fatiguing
Jance had lasted, there was really some tnith in his words, de-
sired the musicians to stop ; causing an exclamation of i-egret
and disappointment from many youthful Ups, and Emmeline
and Edward ran up to her, to entoat that they might go on a
little longer. Mrs. Hamilton, however, refused ; and Edward
yielded directly, but Emmeline was so much excited, that obedi-
ence was most unusually difficult; and when her mother desired
her to sit down quietly for ten minutes, and then come to the
music-room, as Mrs. Allan most particularly wished io hear
her play beibre she left, she answered, with more petulance
than she was at all aware of
"I am sure I cannot play a note now it will be no use
trying."
"Emmeline!" exclaimed her mother, adding, gravely, "1
am afraid you have danced too much, instead of not enough."
The tone, still more than the words, was. enough; poor Em-
meline was just in that mood when tears are quite as near as
smiles ; her own petulance seemed to reproach her (oo, and
she suddenly burst into tears. Many exclamations of sym-
pathy and condolence burst from her mother's friends :
"Poor child!"' "She has over-tired herself 1" "We caimot
expect her to play now!" but Mrs. G-revillo saying, with a
snule, that her little friend's tears were always the very lightest
April showers, successfully turned the attention of many from
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
.178 HOME INFLUENCE.
ter; while Mrs, Hamilton taking her hand from Ler.far.,
merelj- said, in a low voice
"Do not make me moi-e asKamed of you, Erameline. Wliat
would papa think if he were to see you now ? " Her little girl's
only answer .was to bury her face still more dosely in her
mother's di sss, very much as if she would like to hide herself
entirely J but on Mrs. Allan saying, very kindly
" Do not disfi^ss yourself, my. dear. I would not have asked
to hear you play, if I had thought you would dislike it so
much. I dave say you ani very dred, and so think you will
not succeed."
She raised her head directly, sliook back the fair ringlets
that had fallen over her face, and though the tears wei-e still oa
her cheeks and filling her eyes, she said, with a blending of
childish shyness and yet coiirageous truth., impossible to be
described
"No, ma'am, I am not too tired to play I did not cry from
fatigue, but because I was angry with mamma for cot letting
me dance any more, and angry witk myself for answering her
Eo pettishly; and because. because I thought she was dis-
pleased, and that I deserved it."
"Then come and redeem your character," was Mrs. Haznil-
Ion's only notice of a reply that actually made her heart throb
with thankfulness, that her lessons of truth were so fully under-
stood and practised by one naturaUy so gentle and timid as her
Emmeline ; while Mrs. Allan kpew not what to answer, fi^m
a feeling of involuntary respect. It would have been so easy
to escape a disagreeable task by tacitly allowing that she was
too tired to play; and what careful training must it have been
to have so taught truth.
Mrs. Allan would not ask you before, because she knew you
did not like to play while the room was so very full ; therefore,
ought you not to do your very best to oblige her?"
Emmeline looked timidly up In her mother's face to be quite
sure that her displeasure had subsided, as her words seemed to
denote; and quite aatiafied, her tears were all checked, and
taking Mrs. Allan's offered hand, she went directly to the
music-room.
Mrs. Hamilton lingered to desire Herbert (who had come up
to know the cause of his sister's sudden tears) to form the lasl
quadrille, and reserve a place, if he possibly could, for Emmo-
line, as they would not begin till she had done. Her little girl
was playing as she rejoined her, and it really was a prel^
picture, her fairy figure with her tiny harp, and her sweet face
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME lNFLIJKKCi. 17'J
Dftemiiig to espi-esa the real fccliag witli wHich she played.
There was no execution in the simple Highland ah-, but her
vivid imagijiation lent it a meaning, and so, when fairly playing;
she did not mind it. Mrs. Allan had lost a httle girl just at
Kmmeline'fl age, who had also played the harp, and there waa
something in her caress and thanks, after she had done, that
made Emmeline stand quietly at her side, without heeding tlie
praises that vrere lavished round her. Herbert at that moment
appeared with one of the young Allans.
" Come, Emmy, we are only waiting for you ; Mr. Allan
says you have not favored him to-night, and he hopes you will
now."
" Pray, do,'' added Mrs. Allan, as her son gayly pleaded his
own cause ; Emmeline only waited to read her mother's con-
sent i^ her eyes, for she thou^t that she ought not to dance
any more; and in another minute the joyous music had re-
sounded, and she was dancing and chatting as gayly and hap-
pily as if there had been no interruption to her joy,
"And you wiU leave all these delights to imprison yourself
in a man-of-war ? " aaked Mr. Grabame, jestingly, of Edwai'd,
wliile waiting for his wife and daughters, who were the last
departures, (mucb to Annie's horror, for it was so unfaihionablo
to be quite the last,) to be cloaked and shawled.
"Imprison!" was his very ind^ant reply, "and on the
wide, free, glorious ocean! flying on the wings of the wind
wherever we ple&se, and compelling the flag of every land to
aeknowl&dge ours! No, Mr. Grabame; yon landsmen don't
know what hberty is, if you talk of imprisonment in a ship !
We take our home wherever we go, which you landsmen can-
not do, though you do so poetize on the maternal pi-operties of
Old Mother Earth."
" Only hear him, Hamilton," exclaimed Grabame, laughing
heartily; "any one would think ho had been a sailor aU. hia
little ifie. Yon talk boldly now, my boy, but you may change
your tone when you have once tried the cockpit."
"I do not think I shall," answered Edwai'd, earnusliy; "I
know there are many hardships, and I dare say I phall find
them more disagreeable than I can possibly imagine; but 1
ihall get used to them ; it ^ so cowardly to care for hardships.'^
"And is it no grief to give np all the pleasures of land?"
" I exchange them for others more delightful still."
"And the sea is to be your sister, uncle, aunt, and cousins
Utogether?"
"Yes all," replied Edward, laughing; adding, as he put hia
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
ISO HOME INFLUENCE.
arm affectionately round Ellen, "my sister has so many kinj
friends that she will be able to spare me till I am old ecough to
do ail a brother ought." '
" You are a good fellow, Edward, and I see I must not talk
of parting, if I would preserve this evening's pleasure unalloy-
ed," Grahame said, as he laid his hand kindly on Ellen's head,
and then turned to obey the summons of his wife.
The young party, no doubl, felt that it would be infinitely
more agreeable to sit up all night, and talk of the only too
quidcly concluded enjoyment, than to retire to their r^peetive
piUows ; but the habits of Oakwood were somewhat too well
regulated for such dissipation, though, no doubt^ their dream-
land that night, was peopled with the_ pSeasant shadows of
reality, and, according to thdr respective sources of enjoyment,
brought hack jteir evening's happiness again an j again.
CHAPTER XII.
The return to the quiet routine of work, and less exciting
recreation after the Christmas pleasures, was of course a trial
to all our yomig friends. Not so much to the boys, as to their
sisters; Percy's elastic spirits foimd pleasure in every thing,
being somewhat too (AA to care for his studies, or feel them now
as a restraint. Herbert only exchanged one kind irf happiness
for another. Edward looked to every month that passed, as
bringing nearer the attainment of his wishes; and he was so
fond of Mr. Howard, and so quick at learning, and such a fa-
vorite with all his schoolfellows, that he did not care at all when
the time of work came again. Ellen and Emmeline both found
it very difQcult to like their lessons t^ain ; especially the latter,
who felt as if work and regijlarity were most particularly dis-
agreeable things, and sometimes was ahnost in despair as to her
ever enjoying them again; but she tried very hard to overcome
indolence, and never give way to petulance, and succeeded, so
as to win her the delight of both her parents' approbalJon. In-
dulgence always made her feel as if no effort on her part was
too great to prove how much she felt it ; and when any one, old
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 181
01 young, experiences tliia sort of feeling, they need never be
niraid but Uiat they will succeed in their efforts, piunful and
hai'd as they may at first seem. It -was not so difficult for El-
len as Vor Emmeluie, because she was less able to realize sudi
an intensity of pleasure. She seemed safer when regularly
employed ; and besides, to work hard at her respective studies,
was one of the very few things whicli she could do to prove
how much she loved her aunt; and accustomed from such early
childhood to conquer inclination, and, in fact, never to fancy
pleasure and indulgence were her due, there was happiness
enough for her even in their more regular life : but to Caroline
the change wag actually unbearable. While admiration and
praise onJy .incited Emmeline to greater exertions, they cause-d
Caroline completely to relax in hers, and to ^ve, in conse-
quence, as much trouble and annoyance as she had received
pleasure. The perseverance in her various studies, especially
in music, the unceasing control over her temper, which before
the hohdays she had so striven for, had now entirely given way.
It was much less trouble for her to learn than Emmehne, there
fore her studies with Miss Harcourt were generally well per-
formed; but the admiration she had excited made her long fir
more, and believe herself a person deserving mucii more con-
sideration and respect than she received from her own family.
These thoughts persisted iu, of course produced and retained
ill-temper j which, as there was no longer any fear of her being
debarred by its indulgence fi-om any pleasure, she made no at-
tempt to overcome. The prtuse bestowed on her music, made
her fancy herself a much greater proficient than she really was,
and though her love of music was great, her love of praise was
greater; and so she not only relaxed in her practice, but
inwardly murmured at the very little praise she received from
her mother.
"How can you give mamma so much trouble, Caroline,
when you know you csm do so much better?" Herbert ex-
claimed, one day, when an attack of weakness, to which he was
liable, had confined him to a sofa.
Mrs. Hamilton, after giving her usual hour's lesson, in which
Caroline had chosen to do nothing, had left her in very evident
displeasure, and even Herbert was roused lo most unusual
Indignation.
" "What is the use of practising day after day ? " was her
angry I'eply ; " I am sure I should play just as well if I prai;
ised less."
" You did not think so a month ago, Carohne."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
1S2 HOM^ ISFJ.1JENCS.
" Jio, because then I had Bomething to pi'actise for."
" And have you notliing now ? Is mamma's approbation
nothing? Is the pleasure you give all of us, by your talenl
foi music, nothing ? Oh, Carohne, why will you throw away
so much real gratifleation, for the vain desire of universal ad-
uiirati Ml ? "
"There surely can be no harm, Herbert, in wishing to he
iiniTersally loved and admired."
" There is, when it makes you discontented and unhappy,
and blind to tlie love and admiration of your home. What is
the praise of strangers worth, compared to that of those who
love you best ? "
" There is not much chance of my receiving either at pre-
sent," was the cold reply.
" Because you will not try for the one most easily and happily
obtained and even without thinking of praise, how can you
be so tingratefu!, as to repay all mamnia's care and trouble by
the indolence, coldness, and almost insolence, you have shown,
to-day? How few niothers of her rank would "
" You may spare your sermon, Herbert ; for at this moment
I am not disposed either to listen to or profit by it," interrupted
Caroline, and she left tie room in anger. A faint flush rose to
the pale cheek of her brother, but he quickly conquered tlic
natural irritation, and sought hia mother, by every fond atten-
tion on his part, to romovetho pain of Caroline's cbnducL
Thia'conlinued for about a fortnight, at the, end of which
time, Carolihe suddenly resumed her music with assiduity, and
titers were no niOre ebullitions of ill-tempor. Herbert hoped
his expostulations were taking etfect; Mrs. Hanailton trusted
that her child was becoming sensible of her past foUy, and try-
ing to conquer it, and banish its memory herself: both, how-
ever, were mistaken. Annio Graham.e had imparted to her
fnend, in strict confidence, that her mother intended giving a
grand ball about the end of February; and meant to entreat
Mrs. Hamilton, as aperaonal favor, to let Caroline be present.
Caroline little knew the very slight foundation Annie had for
this assertion. Lady Helen had merely said, perhaps she
would ask; and this was only said, because she was too indo-
lent and weak to say " No " at once. Not that she had any
unkind feeling toward Caroline, but simply because she was
perfectly certain Mrs. Hamilton would not consent, and to
persuade as earnestly as Annie wished was really too much
trouble.
Caroline's wishes in this instance, triumphed over her bettei
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
noMB WFLUlvSCK. 183
jadgmeat, for had she allowed herself to think soberly, she
ought to have knowii her mother's principles of action suffi-
ciently, not to entertain the slightest hope of going.
The invitations (three weeks' notice) for her parents and
brothers came. In them she did not expect to bo induded. but
when above a week passed, and still not a word was said, dis-
appointment took the place of hope, and it was only the slill
lingering belief that she might go, even at the last moment, that
prevented the return of ill-temper.
Now Lady Helen really had asked, though she did not pei--
Euade ; and Mrs. Hamilton thanked her, but, aa she expected,
decidedly refused. " Caroline was much too young," she
said, "for sach a party. . Did she know any thing about being
asked ? " Lady Helen said, with truth, that she had not men-
tioned the subject to her, and . had desired Annie to be equally
silent.
Mi's. Hamilton quite foi^ot that Misa Grahame was not
fanioua for obedience, and, relying on her fidend'a assurance,
determined on not saying any thing to Caroline about it; wishing
to spare her the pain which she knew her refusal would inflict.
As it happened, it would have been, better if she had spoken.
The weather had prevented Carolihe'fi'om seeing Annie, hut
she was quite sure she Would'not deceive her; and her, proud
heart rebelled against her mother, uot only for refusing Lady
Helen's, request^ but for treating her so much like a child, as to
hide that refusal from her. Pnder the influenee of sach
thoughts, of course, her temper became more and more difficult
to control and as a natuiral consequence, anger and irritation
against her mother, and self-reproach for the indulgence of such
feelings increased, tiU she became actually miserable.
It happened that about this lime Miss Harcourt left Oaliwood
for a week, on a visit to an invalid friend at Dartmouth Mrb
Hamilton had given her full liberty, promising tli'it her pupils
should lose nothing by her absence. She left on the Saturday,
and the Thursday was Lady Helen's bail. On the Monday,
Mr. Hamilton detained Edward, as he was leaving the bbrary,
after morning prayers, and told him that he had received a lot
ter, which he thought might chance to interest him Tti! mi
nutes afterward, Edward rushed into the breakfast room m a
Btate of such joyoas ezcitemeiit that Jie could scarcely speal
" Wish me five, teii, twenty thousand joys ! ' he exUiuned,
springing from chair to chair, as if velocity of movument should
bring back speech, " In one month the Prince Wilham fwls,
tvnd I am to meet her at Portsmouth, arid be a sailor, a reiaJ
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
18.1 HOME ISFLUEKCE.
sailoi ; and to-morrow fortniglit uncle says we are to start fot
jLoa^or, attd have ten days there to see aU the fine sights, ftud
then gu to FortsmoutU, and see all that is to be seen there, ami
then and tien "
" Take eare you do not lose your wits before yon leave Oak-
wood," interposed Percy, laughing heariily. " I should not at
all wonier, before you go, that you wiH be fancying the rivei
Dart the Atlantic, and set sail in a basket, touch at all the isleti
em may pass, imagining them varions cities, and finally land M
artmouth, believing it Halifax, your destined port that wiH
be the end of your swlorship, Edward, depend upon it.".
"1 rather tMnk I should stand a chance of being ducked into
my sober senses again, Percy, unless wicker be waterproof,
which I never heard it was."
" But I have, though," e^erly interrupted Emmeline ; " the
Scots and Picts invaded England in wicker boats, and to have
held so many men, they must have been strong and waterproof
too. iSo you see, Percy's basket is only an andent boat, Ed-
ward. You are much bettor off than you thought you were."
" Give me Alfred's wooden waOs instead, Emmy ; your Picie
and Scots were very little better than savages Alfred is my
man ; be deserves to be called great, if it were only for form-
ing the first English navy. But neither my aunt nor Elien
have wished me joy. I thmk I shaU be offended."
Mrs. Hamilton could not speak at the first moment, for tlie
joy, the animation of her nephew so recalled the day when ]:er
own much-loved brother, her darling Charles, had rushed into
her room, to teU her all his glee, for no one ever listened to and
shared in his joys and troubles as she did. He was then
scarcely older than Edward, as full of hope and joy and buoy-
ancy where was he ? "Woiild his fate be that of the bright,
beautiful boy before her ? And as Edward threw his arms
round her neck, and kissed her again and again, tolling her he
could not be quito sure it was not all a dream, unless she wished
him joy too, it was the utmost effort to prevent the fast gather-
ing toara, and so command her voice, that he shwjld not hear
her ti'emhle. Poor Ellen looked and felt bewildered. She had
always tried to realize that Edward, to be a sailor, must leave
her ; and in fact aware that his summons would soon come, lier
aunt and uncle had often alluded to his departure before her,
hut still she had never thought it near ; and now the news was
BO sudden, and Edward was so wild with joy, she fancied she
ou^t to rejoice too, but she could not ; and Percy was obliaeLl
to ask her merrily, what ailed her, and if she could not. trust to
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUEKCE. 1S3
hia being a much more worthy brother than such a water-rat
wiio had uo business whatever on land, before she could take
her place at the breakfast table and try to smile. But her eyes
would reat on. Edward even then, and she felt as if there were
something across her throat and she could not swallow the nice
roU wiiich Herbert had so kindly buttered and cut, and so
quietly placed iu her plaf ; and when Edward said something
very fuimy, as he was in the habit of doing, and made them all
laugii, she tried to laugh too, but instead of a laugh it was a
Bob that startled herself, for she was quite' sure she did not
mean lo be so foolish ; but instead of bemg reproved, as she
was aTriud she should be, she felt her aunt's arm thrown gently
round her, till she could hide her face oh her shoulder, and cry
quite quietly for a few minutes, for they went on talking and
laughing round tbe breakfast-table, and nobody took any notice
of her, wiiich she was quite glad of, for she could not bear Ed-
ward to think she was unhappy when he was so pleased. And
after breakfast, though he was in such a desperate hurry to tell
Mr. Howard the good news, that when he did set off he left
even Percy far behind him, he found time to give her a hearty
kiss, and to tell her tliat he loved her very much, though he
could not help being so glad he was going to sea ; and that he
was quite proud of her, because though he knew she was very
sorry he was going, she did not cry and make a fuss as some
selfish people would ; and then she reaUy did smile.
" It is Monday morning, my dears, and I find ElUs and Mor-
ris require my attention for a longer time than I expected,"
Mrs. Hamilton said, as she entered the school-room, and found
the tiiree girls preparing their books, " so I must set you all to
work, and see how well you can get on without me till eleven,
when I will i-ejoin you. I shall order the carriage at half-past
twelve, and if aU I require is completod, we will pay your
ftivorite old ruin a visit, Emmy ; the morning is so lovely, that
I think we may venture to take our sketch-books, and see what
other part of Berry Pomeroy we can take pencil possession of."
Such an anticipation was quite enough for Emmeliue. Her
3anee about the room was only checked by the idea that her
lessons would never be ready, nor her exerdses and sums done,
unless she sat quietly down ; and so, with a great effort, she gave
all her attention to her various tasks, aud mastered them even
before her mother returned. Ellen, though she tried quitd as
much, was not so successfuL The Prince William' would sail
in miniature on her slate, over all her figures. The recollection
of the awful storm they had encountered on their voyage to
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
J8C HOWE ISFLUENCE,
England would return so vividly, that the vei'y room seemed tn
heave. And then but she could not malic out why she
Ehould tiiinV about that then her mother's death-bed came
before her and her"promiso, and it seemed harder still to part
with Edward, from a vague dread that came over her, but still
she tried to attend to what she had to do, and congratulated
herself on its completion before her aunt appeared.
Caroline, alone, was determined iiot to work. Becausfs she
had not made herself miserable enough already, the most un-
founded jealousy entered her head from seeing her mother's
caressing kindness toward Ellen at breakfast ; why was not her
manner as kind to her ! She was quite as unhappy, and her
motliex must see it, but she took no notice of her only of
Elien. She might be cross sometimes, but she never told
stories or tried to hide her faults, and it was very hard and un-
just that she should be ti'eated so like a child, and Ellen made
60 much of; and so she thought and thought, not attempting to
do a single thing tiU she actually made lierself believe, for the
time, that her kind, indulgent mother had no love for her j and
every thing looked blanker than before.
She made no effort to roiiae herself even in Mrs, Hamilton's
presence, but listened to ter remonstrances with such extreme
carelessness, almost insolence," that her motlier felt her patienco
failing. : The self-control, however, for which she had succ^s-
fully striven, enabled her so to overcome the irritation, as to re-
lain her own quiet dignity, and simply to desire Caroline to
give her attention at once to her- studies, and conquer her ill-
temper, or not to think of accompanying them on their excur-
sion, as idleness aud peevishness were better left to themselves.
An insolent and haughty reply rose to Carolme'a lips ; but with
aa effort' she remained silent, her flushed forehead alone denot-
ing the internal agitation'. Emmeiihe's diligence and the ap-
probation she received irritated her still more ; but she rejoiced
when she heard her mother tell EUen there was not a correct
line in her French exeixuse, and her sum, a compound long di-
vision, wrong from the very first figure. But the pleasure soon
gave place lo indignant anger, when, instead of the reproof
which she believed would follow, Mrs. Hamilton said vtiry
kindly
" I should very much like these done correctly, EUen, he-
fore we go out ; suppose you ensconce yourself in that bey-
window, there are a table and chair all ready for you, and we
nhall not interrupt yon as we should if yon remmn at this table,
I know they are both rery difiicult, to-day especially, but the
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME iJiFLUENGE. 187
inoiro merit in their accomplishment, you know the moie plea^eO
I shall b3.
Ellen obeyed directly ; a little cai'e, and with tho aa^istaaof
of lier grammar, which her aunt permitted her to refer to, in-
etead of depending entirely on her memory that morning, ena-
bled her to succeed with her French ; but four times was that
tormenting sum returned to, till at last her tears effaced the
figures as fast as they were written. Still, patiente and resolu-
tion in both teacher and pupil conquered, and the fifth time
there was not a figure wrong ; and Mrs, Hamilton, fondly put-
ting back the heavy ringlets which in Ellen's absorbed attention
had fallen over her fearful cheeks, said, playiully
" Shall I tell you a secret, my httle EHea ? I was quite as
disinclined to be firm this morning as you were to be patient;
so you see we have both gained a great victory. My conjuring
propensities, as Emmy thinks them, told me that you haid real
cause for some little inattention, and, therefore that it was very
cruel in me to be so determined; but jay judgment would tell
me that mj feeling was wrong, and that to conquer disinclina-
tion and overcome a difficulty, was a much better way of les-
sening even natural sorrow than to give up, I do not expect
you to think so just now, but I fancy you are not very sorry
this disagreeable, tenibie tiresome sura has not to be done to-
morrow, which it must have been, had you left it to-day."
Ellen was so glad, that she felt almost happy, and her few
other duties were doDO quite briskly, for Mrs. Hamilton liad
been so kind as to countermand the carriage till one, tliat she
and Caroline might have time to finish. But Caroline, if she
had not tried before, was now still less capable of doing so.
Every word of kindness addressed to Ellen increased the storm
raging within, and the difiiculty of restraining it in Mrs. Hamil-
ton's presence caiised it to burst forth with unmitigated violence
the moment she quitted the apartment, desiring Emmeiine and
Ellen to make haste, and put away their books, but still with-
out taking the least notice of her. Invective, reproach, almost
abuse, wore poured against Ellen, who stood actually frightened
at the violence she had so very innocently excited, and at the
fearful and deforming passion which inflamed her cousin's every
feature. Caroline's anger had miscounted time, or she must
have known that her motlier could not have gone fa; enough,
for such unusual tones of excitement to escape her quick htiar-
ing. Mrs. Hamilton, startled and alarmed, returned directly,
jnd so vividly did her chUd's appearance and words recall her
OTn misguided sbter in those uncon trolled fits of fury, uidoi
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
188 HOME INFLUENCE.
which shn had so often trembled, that. present disappoinfmenl
and dread for the future, took possession of her, and for the
caoment rendered her powerless. Carohne was too much en-
grossed to perceive her at first, and she had, therefore, time 1*
rally from the momenfary weakness.
"What does this mean?" she exclaimed, fixing her eyes on
Caroline, with that expression of quiet hat stem reproof, which
when she did use it and it was very seldom had the power
of subduing even the wildest excitement. "What has Ellen
done, that you should abuse her with this unjust and cruel and
most unfeminine violence? Ton have indulged your ill-temper
till you do not know what you say or do, and you are venting
on another the* anger which my displeasure Ims caused you to
feel towai-d me and toward yourself, I desire that you will
control it directly, or retire to your own room, till you can be-
have withsome degree of propriety, and not disturb the com-
fort and happiness of others in this most uncailed-for manner."
"I will not go," answered Carohne, bursting into violent
tears, and scarcely aware of what she was saying, "I know I
dislike Ellen, and I have reason to dislike her, for befoi'e she
came, you were never so often displeased with me; you are
always kind and indulgent to her, always treat her as a rea-
sonable being,not as the child, the infant you think me. I know
you have lost aU love for me, or you must have seen I was un-
happy, and spoken kindly to me, as you did to Ellen; I have
every reason to dislike her, stealing your affection from me as
she has, and 1 do with all my heart ! "
" Glo, and prepare for onr drive, my dear children," Mrs.
Hamilton said, as she calmly turned for a moment to Emmeline
and EDen, who both stood bewildered, the former from actual
terror that her sister should dare so to address her mother, and
the latter from pain at the violent avowal of a dislike whicli
she had intuitively felt, but had always tried to disbeheve.
"The beauty of the day will be gone if we hager much longer,
and I do not intend to be disappoinld of our promised ramble.
Do not think any thing of what this unhappy girl is saying ; at
present she scarcely knows herself and will by and by wish il
recalled, far more intensely than ever we can."
Emmeline longed to throw her arms round her mother, and
with tears beseech her to foi^et what Caroline had said ; but,
though Mrs. Hamilton had spoken cheerfully, and in quite her
usual tone of voice to them, there was something in her counte-
nance, that checked any display of softness even in her aJFec-
tionale child; somelh.ng that almost awed her, and she hft the
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOMl! INFLUENCE. 189
room Willi Ellen to prepare for the promised excursion, whicli
had, however, lost all its anticipated enjoyment from the uncon-
Ivolled temper of another.
" Now, Caroline, I will answer you," said Mrs. Hamilton, as,
Sooa as they were alone, and again regarding Caroline, whc
was sobbing violently, with that same searching look. "Your
charges are such very heavy ones, thai I really must request
you during my absence to arrange and define them in some
oi'der. I am so perfectly ignorant of having given you any
foundation for tbem, that, before I can attempt defence, you
must inform me exactly aad definitely of what you complain.-
That this morning my manner was kinder to Ellen than to you
T quite acknowledge. Her inattention and depression had a
cause, yours had none ; for if you were unhappy, it was from
your own fearful temper, which, by encouragement, has black-
ened every thing around you. You may employ your time till
dinner as you choose ; but at five o'clock come to me in my
dressing-room, prepared to define and inform me of every
charge you can bring against me. You will consider this a
command, Caroline, disregard or evasion of which will bo dis-
obedience."
She left the room, and in a very short time afterward Caro-
line heard the cairiage drive off; but for nearly three long
Itoura she never moved from her seat, so utterly miserable, as
scarcely even to change her posilJon. Never in her life befoi-e,
not in her most angry moments, had she so spoken to her mo-
ther, and her remorse was almost intolerable. Again and
again she remembered what Mrs. Hamilton had told her so
often, that, if she did not strive and pray against the dominion
of ill-temper while young, it would become more and morfe un-
controllable, and the older she became, the more difficult to
subdue, even ia a moderate degree ; '&nd her words were indeed
true. It had been many months since temper had gained such
an ascendency, and its effects were far, far more violent, and
its power over her more determined, and if, as she grew older,
it should be still worse, what would become of her? how in-
sufferably wretched ! what would she not have given to have
recalled her-words? The jealousy which had arisen, now she
knew not how, had sunk into air before those few calm inquir-
ing sentences from her mother, and in her excessive miseiy
svery kind deed and word and look, every fond indulgence and
forbearance, ia fact, all the love her mother had so lavished on
her from her infancy, rushed back upon her, till she actually
hated bErself, and longed iJie more intensely for the ccmfort of
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
190 HOME INFLUEHOB.
iLat eoottiiig affection, wMch, in real pain or childijL sovrow,
had never been i-efused her.
" Why, why did Annie tell me any thing about that hatefll
ball ? " she exclaimed, at length, as the sound of many joyous
voices ^nd the dresaing-bell pi-ocliumed the return of the vari-
ous members of her family only.in time to prepare for dinner.
"It was all, all from that; I know now, only from that one
thought one wish.' Why was I such a fool, as not to tell
mamma at once that I knew I was to be asked, and wished so
much to go ? if sho had refused me, it would not have been
half the pain I have made for myself. And how can I meet
papa's eye and Percy's unkind jokes with eyea like these ? "
she added, as on rising to go to her own room, se caught sight
of her own face in a mirror, and actually started at the dis-
figurement which the violence of her emotion had wrought.
" Oh, how I wish mamma had not desired me to go to her ;
that I could but hide myself fi-om everybody or get rid of
this hon-ible black cloud."
From every eye but her mother's she could and did hide
berself ; for saying that her head ached, which was the truth,
and she did not wish any thing to take, she refused to go down
to dinner, Mrs. Hamilton had successfully exerted herself
during their excursioii, and Emmeline and Ellen enjoyed them-
Kelves so thoroughly as almost to forget the alloy of the morn-
ing J and even when CaroUue's message recalled it, the boys
were all so merry, that it did not disturb them. Percy always
declaimed that Caroline's headaehe was only another term for
temper-ache, and he would certainly have sent her some mes-
sage of mock pity, if his quick eye had not discovered or
fancied that his mother did not look quite as well as usual, and
so he contented himself by trying still more to be the life of the
dinner-table. Mr. Hamilton had seen at a single glance that
all was not quite right, and Caroline's non-appearance and
message explained it, to his estrenie regret, for he had begun
to hope and believe that his wife's extreme solicitude, on her
account, was beginning to decrease.
Mrs. Hamilton had.not much doubt that silence and soKtude
had so far had effect on Caroline as (o siibdue "passion, and
bring her to a sense of her misconduct ; but that had scarcely
power to lessen the anxiety and the pain which Caroline's
words had so wantonly inflicted. Had she indeed evinced any
thing like undue partiahty ? the idea alone almost brought a
^niile; fondly, and almost as her own cliild, as she loved her
little niece. The very an^ety Caroline occasioned' her, deep
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME lUFLUiHSCE, 191
ened her affectio l ; the very control she waa obliged to esoroiae
111 her mode of guiduig her, strengthened evei'j" feeling toward
her. ^ She was bo enwrapped in these pEunfully engrossing
thoughts, in, the strict examination of her own heart, that sh^
WHS not aware the time she had appointed had passed by
full ten minutes, till she was roused by the handle of her door
beiag softly turned, and left ^ain, as if some one had wished
to enter, but hesitated. The very hesitatioa gave her hope,
foi' she really did not know that the utmost penalty she could
have inflicted on Caroline, in the moment of natural indigna-
tion, would have failed in produwngsuohan effect as the simple
command to seek her, and define her charges against her, when
that angiy excitcmout had so calmed, that Caroline would have
given worlds, if she might but have not referred to it again.
She knew she dared not disobey, but her daring had left her
so powerless that she had stood at her mother's door full ton
minutes before she could command courage sufficient to open
it and enter.
Mrs. Hamilton looked at her ciianged aspect, the bitter
huHuliation expressed in every feature, with such pity, that it
required even more than her usual exercise of control, to retain
the grave, and apparently unmoved tone with which she said
" You have had a long time in which to reflect on your
charges against me, Carohne. I hope they are now sufficiently
dfffined for me to understand and answer them. You may sit
down, for you do not seera very capable of standing."
Caroline gladly, obeyed, by sitting down on a low ottoman,
some little diat^ce from her mother, on whose neck she abso-
lutely longed to throw herself and beseech forgiveness ; but
Mrs. Hamilton's tone was not such as to give her couritge to do
Eo. She remained silent, burying her face in her hands.
"I am waiting your pleasure, Caroline ; I should have thought
that you had had plenty of time to think during mj absence.
Of what do you accuse me ? "
" Oh, nothing, nothing ! mamma, dear mamma, do not speak
to me in that tone, I cannot bear it ; indeed, indeed, I am mis-
erable enough already ; condemn me to any puniaimient, the
severest you can, I know I deserve it but do not, do not
speak so."
" No, Caroline ; were I to condemn you to any punishment,
it would seem more like vengeance for the pain you have
inflicted on me by your accusation of partiality and injustice
than fi-om the hope of producing any good end. You are no
longer a child, who must be taught the line of duty to a parent
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
192 HOME ISFLUBSCE.
You know it now as well as I can teal it, and if you fuil,-
mu3t be answerable only to yourself. I cannot help you any
further, than by requesting you to explain clearly the orlgia of
yoilr eomplaict against me. Ita main ground of offence, is, I
believe, liat since Ellen has become an inmate of my family
I have treated you with more harshness and unkindnesa than
I ever did before. Can you look back on the last eighteen
mouths and recall ote instance in which this has been the case ?
I must have an answer, Caroline ; you may now thinli explana-
tion is not necessary, and that you meant nothing when you
Bpoke, but that will not satisfy me nor you, when ill-temper re-
gains ascendency. Ton need not refrain from answering for
fear of woundmg me. You can scarcely do tliat more than you
have done already." ,
Caroline tried to speak, but she could only sob forth, thai
she could not recall one instance, in which her mother had been
more displeased with her than her' conduct merited. Acknow-
ledging, but almost inarticulately, that she had sometimes fan-
cied Ihat she had remained longer cold with her than with
EUen, after the committal of a fault-^and that (she stop-
ped.)
" Go oa, Caroline."
"I could not feel my faults such heavy ones as Ellen's."
" They are of equal if not greater weight than your cousin's,
Caroline. Tou have been, from your earKest infancy, the ob-
ject of tiie most tender and devoted care to your father and
myself. Miss Harcourt has followed out our plans ; you have
never been exposed to any temptation, not even that of casual
bad example. EUen, till she became mine, encountered neg-
lect, harshness, all that could not fajl in such a charactr to
engender the faults she has. Tou cannot compare yourself
with her, for, had you been situated as she was, I fear you
would have had slill heavier failings."
" I should never have told untruths," exclaimed Caroline
with returning temper.
"Perhaps not, for some persons are so physically constituted
that they do not know what fear is ; and harshness would
harden, not (srrify and crush, as with such dispositions as
Ellen's. But Caroline, when temper gains dominion over you,
as it has done to-day, do you always think and utter nothing
but the truth?"
Caroline turned from that penetrating look and burst into
tears. Few as the words were, they seemed to flash light into
the very inmost recesses of her heart, and tell her that in mo-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 193
menta of uacontroUed temper, ia her brooding fancies, she
eally did forfeit tlie truth, on adherence to which she so prided
Herself; and that there was no excuse for her in the idea that
she did not know what she said or did for why had religion
and reason been so carefully implanted witMn her, but to enable
her to subdue the evil temper, ere it acquired such fearful
dominion.
'Perhaps you have never thought of this before, Caroline,"
resumed Mns. Hamilton, and her tone was not quite so cold
"but think of it in future, and it may help you to conquer
yourself. Eemcmber, words can never be recalled, and that,
though you may have lost ancli command over yourself, as
scarcely to know the exact sense of what you say, yet those to
whom they are addressed, or those who may have only heard
them, must believe, and so receive, and perhaps act on false
impressions, which no after effort will remove. Now to your
next charge, that I treat Ellen as a reasonable being, .and. you
as a child if you have the least foundation for this supposi-
tion, speak it without hesitation whence has it arisen?"
For one minute Caroline hesitated, but then resolved she
would atone for her fault at least by a full confession, , She
told all the wishes, the hopes Annie's information of Lady
Helen's promise had imparted, and the pain it was to feel that
her mother thought her such a child as not to apeak to her on
the subject,
"And if you did think so, Caroline, why did you not, from
the first moment that Annie told you of it, come to me, and tell
me how very much you wished it ? I could not, indeed, have
granted your wishes, but your confidence would have been
met with such indulgence as would at least have . saved you
some degree of pajn. Believing, as I did, and as Lady Helen
assured me I might with safety, that you knew nothing about
it would you have thought it kind or judicious in me, had 1
said, ' Lady Helen has persuaded me to take you to her ball,
hut I have refused her.' I was silent to spare you ptun, as,
had you permitted yourself calmly to think, you would have
believed. However, as appearances were, I grant &at I have
not treated: you, in this, instance, with the consideration that
your Age might perhaps have demanded ; and from Annie not
obeying Lady Helen's desire, that she should not mention the
subject to you, liave failed in sparing you the pain of disap-
pointment, S3 1 had hoped. But another time, instead of brood-
ing over that which seems want of consideration on my part,
come to me at once, and spare yourself and me the pain you
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
104 HOME IKFLUENCE.
liave caused me to-day. I do not think jou can aocudC me of
ever meeting your confidence with so much harshness as lo
check such openness on your part,"
Caroline looked hastily up ; her mother's tone waa almost lis
foad as usual, and, unable to restrain the impulse any longer,
she started from her low seat, and kneeling down close by her,
clung round her, passionately exclaiming
" Mamma I mamma ! pray, forgive me ; I am so very miser
able I cannot bear myself I do not know when I shall be
happy again ; for even if you forgive me, I know I know
I never can forgive myself."
"I do not wish you to forgive yourself just yet, my dear
child," replied her mother, not refusing the kiss Caioline's eyes
so earnestly besought. "Toiir fault lias been such an i^gra-
vated one, that I fear it must cause you many days of remorse,
the most, painful kind of suffering which error can bring; but
do not try to shake it off; I would rather see you endure it,
and not expect happiness for a few days. You know where to
seek the only source which can bring peace and comfort, and
you must endeavor, by earnest prayer, to strengthen yourself
for the conflict you have so often to encounter. You have a
very difficult task, my poor child, that I know ; and, thei-e-
fore, do I so try to provide you with a guard and help."
" If I could but conquer it at first," answered Caroline, whose
violent excitement had ^ven way to tears of real repentance ;
"but at first it seems almost a pleasure to me to be cross to
everybody, and answer pettishly, and as if it were pleasanter
to encourage disagreeable thoughts than to read or do any thing
that would remove them. And then, when I would give any
thing to escape from them, it seems everybody's fault but my
own, and I cannot."
"If you accustomed yourself constantly to pray against this
great: fault, my dear child, you would find, that its very first
approach would so startle you, that you would use every energy
to subdue it. But I fear it is only when temper has made you
miserable, as it' has to-day, ihat you are quite aware of its
enormity. You do not think the fault great enough to demand
the watchfulness and care without which it never will be suh-
"I am afraid I do not, indeed, mamma, I know 1 do noi
make it a subject of prayer, as you have so often advised me,
except when every thing- looks so black, and I am so miserable j
and then, I fear, I ask more to be "happy again, than tor for-
giveness of my sin, and for grace and strength to o
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 195
I never felt this to be the case so strongly as to-day, but your
coldness seems lo have shown me my whole self, and I never
thought I was so wicked, and so I must be miserable."
Mrs. Hamilton involuntarily drew her child more closely to
her. The humiUty, the bitterness of self-reproach, was so un-
like Caroline's usual haughtiness so very much deeper than
they had ever been, before, that she hoped, in spite of her anxi-
ety, and her voice audibly trembled aa she answered
"If you really feel this, my .Caroline, you wiU not hesitate to
follow my advice, and really pray and watch against this un-
happy temper, even wten every thing is so smooth and happy,
that you cannot Imagine why you need. Sin always gains
ascendency by using, pleasure, as. His covering. Do not let a
single cross word, or momentary unkind thought, pass unnoticed ;
never cease in your petition for grace and strength, biit do not
be content witli only prayer ; you must use effort as well, and
if your thoughia will be black, and you feel as if you could not
conquer them by yourself, nor banish them even by your favorite
employments, come to me, confess them. without fear or hesita-
tion to me, and let us try if we eaonot conquer fiem together.
Will you promise me to try this plan, Caroline?"
Cardline could not reply, for every kind word her mother
spoke, seemed to heighten self-reproaoh, and mate her, stiU
more vn^telied, . Mrs. Hamilton felt that there was no refusal
in her silence, and continued talking to her in that same gentle
strain a little while longer, and then rose , to leave her but
Cai'oline looked so sorrowful that she hesitated.
"No, mamma, I do not deserve that yoa should" stay with
me, and so deprive Emmeline and Ellen, and the boys of their
favorite hour," she said, though the tears started again to her
eyes, for she felt as if it would be an indescribable comfort still
to be alone with her mother.' "I .am too unhappy and too
ashamed to join them, if I may remain away ? " Mrs. Hamilton
answered in the affirmative. "I have not a thing prepared for
to-morrow, and and I do not indeed, I do not mean to
give you any more trouble with my studies. I hate myself for
that loo."
" Do not attempt to study to-night, my dear Caroline ; get up
a little earlier to-morrow, to be ready for, me, if you like; but
though it will be much more painful to you to remain idle the
remainder of this evening than to employ yourself, even with
the most disE^reeable task, I would much rather you should do
so.. Once lot temper be quite subdued, and your heart receive
is necessary government, and I have bo fear but that you ml}
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
190 HOME INFUJENOK.
very quickly mate up for lost lime; and even if you did not^
bslieve me, my dear child, the graces of the mind, precious as
in generally they are considered, and as they are, still are l.o ma
actually nothing worth, if unaccompanied by a gentle temper
and womanly heart. Do not shrink from the suffering which it
will be to sit alone and think on all that has passed to-day ; but
let your remorse be aecompanied by a resolution (which j'ou
are quite capable of not only forming, but of keeping) not fo
rest till by prayer and effort you have sought God's blessing on
your difficult task, and so feel strengthened for its fulfilment ;
and also for persevering in it, for you must not hope to succeed
in subduing yoiirself all at once. Do this, and I sha,ll be better
pleased than if tim.orrow morning you brought me a treble
quantity of mental work."
She embraced and left her fo meditations, from whose bit-
ter, though salutary pain, Caroline made no attempt to escape;
thodgh, had it not been for her mother's advice, she would
gladly have flown to her studies, and worked with double assi
duity, believing that she was, by doing so, atoning for her fault,
instead of merely shrinking from its remembi'aoce. It was a
trial to join her famUy even for prayers; for she felt so self-
convieted, so humbled, that she fancied every one must despise
her ; and when, aiter the service, Percy approached, anc^ with
mock sympathy, inquired how her headache was, and if she had
recovered her appetite, and begged her not to be ill at such a
critical time, as he most particularly wished to go io Lady
Helen's ball, and he could not be so cruel, if slie were not well,
her spirit was so broken that the large tears rolled down her
cheeks, and she turned away without uttering a singleVord.
"','If you had taken the trouble to look in your sister's face,
Percy, you would not have spoken so unkindly," said Mrs.
Hamilton, more hastily than she was in the habit of interfering ;
and as Caroline came to her, she whispered some few fond
words, that enabled her to wish her father good-night and leave
the room,, without any farther display of emotion.
" Do you wish your sister to dislike you, Percy ? " she said,
gently detaining liim, as he was following Caroline.
" Dislike me, mother ? No ! how can you think so ? "
" Because you act as if you wished it ; you never see her
uncomfortable, without trying to make her more so, and is that
kind ? How can she ever look up fo and love you, while such
-is the case ? "
"I only mean it foi" fun, mother. It is such glorious enjoy-
ment fo me to torment, when I sse people cross and miserablt
lor nothing."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE 197
"And in the enjojioent of your fan, rty dear boy, you forget
ether people's feeiinga. I must beg you, as aa especial favor
to myself, that you will do aU you can to soothe rather tlian
irritate Caroline, in the short time that intervenes before you
go to London. She will have a hard struggle with herself, so
do not you make her trial more difficult."
" Do you wish it, motlier, dear ? you know I would refrain
from teasing even for a whole year, if it would please you, and
give me the privilege of a kiss whenever I like," he laughingly
answered, looking up in her face bo archly and yet so fondly
that hia mother could not help smiling ; promising she would
not sentence him to any thing so terrible as not to tease for a
whole year, as she waa quite sure he would fall into his old
propensities before a quarter of the time had expired.
CHAPTER Xm.
Lady Helen's ball took place ; and Caroline had so con-
quered herself, that she could listen to Pei'cy's flowing account
of its delights with actual cheerfulness. It was so associated
with self-reproach, that she could scarcely think of it without
pain ; but, she was so convinced of her fbUy in permitting such
a very little thing so to affect her temper as to cause all the
misery she had endured, that she had resolved to punish her-
self, not only by listening to Percy, hut by herself inquiring
the details. She was a girl of really a strong mind, and once
convitjced of error, once released from the fell dominion of
temper, she did not care what pain she endured, or what difli-
culty she encountered, so that she could but convince her
mother how truly she regretted, and tried to atone for past mis-
condueL It was very easy, as Mrs. Hamilton had fold her, to
regain lost time in her studies, but not quite so easy to check
the cross word or unkind thought, and to break from the blak
sloud that still at times would envelop her. But. she did not
giv(! way, constantly even making opportunities for self-denial,
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
t93 HOME INfl-UENCE.
jjid doing little kindnesses for Ellen, though she wna too tnslli-
fill to profess an affection which as yet she could not feel.
Early in the following week Mr. Graliame came over to Oak-
wood with a, petition. Annie having taken cold at the party
had been obliged to enact the invalid, much against her inclina-
tion, and so entreated lier motlier to invite Caroline to spend a
few days with her ; and, to lier astonishment, her cold, harsh
father volimteered to go himself for her. Mr. Hamilton al
once acceded ; his wife hesitated ; but she went at once lo
Caroline, who chanced to be reading alone in the school-room,
for it waa the time of recreation, and told her. For a moment
her countenance was actually radiant with delight, the next it
clouded over.
" You would lite it very much, but you are afraid I shall
not permit you to go is that tlie meaning of your change of
countenance ? " asked her mother, half smiling.
" I am afraid of myself, mamma ; for I fear I am always
more ill-tempered and proud after ajiy such pleasure as going
fo Moorlands would be."
" "Would you rather not go, then ? "
"I cannot say quite that, mamma; I should like it very
much, if I could but be sure of myself afterward."
"Did you ever feel such a doubt of yourself before, Caro-
line, when going to stay with Annie ? "
" No, mamma ; I seem to have thought a great deal more the
last few days, and not to feel half so sure of myself."
" Then I think there is less danger for you, that is, of course,
if you are willing to risk the temptation of Lady Helen's too
kind consideration and lavish praises, which maJce mine so
very tame,"
" Oh, mamma, pray do not say so," interrupted Caroline,
very eagerly. "Indeed, I would rather hear you speak and
see yoTi smile as you do now, than listen to all that Lady Helen
is so kind as to say. I know I did like it very much, and that
it did sometimes make me fancy when I came home, that you
were almost cold. But, indeed, indeed, I hope I am . lean ing
to know you better."
" I hope so, too, dearest. But Mr. Grahame is waiting for
you ; and, by-the-by, be^ed me to ask you for some lines you
promised to copy out for a print in Lady Helen's album. You
.may do just as you like about going, because you are quita
old and wise enough to decide for yourself. Ill-temper always
brings such suffering with it, that if pleasure must rec&l' it,
you will be wiser not to go ; but if you can resist it if you
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME ISFLUENCE. 199
think you can return to your quiet dajly routine as forbearing
aiid ^'Ciitle and happy as you are now, go, my love, and enjoy
yourself as much as you can."
"I will try and rememher all you said aliout prayer when
we think we are moat secure, dear mamma," answered Caro-
IJDP, in a very earnest and somewhat lowered voice. " I know
whenever I have heen to Moorlands before, I have felt et
elatd, so sure I should never be in an ili-temper, so proud
from being made so much of, that I fear I have very often re-
laxed even in my daily prayers, and never thought it necessary
to pray against ill-temper. Do you think if I watch myself,
and stiil pray against it it wi!l save me from being cross and
unkind on my return ? "
" It will undoubtedly help you, my dear child, very consider-
ably, and render your trial very much easier, but I cannot
promise you that it wiU. entirely prevent the incUnoHon to feel
petliah and unhappy. I have no doubt that in time it will
prevent even that ; but now, yon know, it is very early days,
and you have not yet forgotten the bitter pain of last week ;
still I think you may venture to go, love, and if I do see you
happy and gentle on your return, it will do much toward con-
vincing me you are striving in earnest. Make haste and get
ready, and do not forget the poem. I will send over your
things. Tell Lady Helen I shall expect all her family next
Monday evening, to join Edward's little farewell-party, and
you can return with them."
With the most delighted alacrity Caroline hastened to get
ready, and in her hurry foi^ot the poem till sho reentered the
school-room, which was still untenanted.
" What shaJI I do for some writing-paper ? " she thought ;
"the desks are all put away, and it will detain me so long to
go up again for the keys, and the volume is too large to carry
oh, I will tear out a blank page from this book, it will not
je very elegant, but I can recopy it at Moorland-j."
And she hastily tore out a page from an exercise-book which
!ay open on the table ; not perceiving that by doing bo, a fellow-
leaf, which was written on, was loosened, and fell to the ground,
mingling with some torn papers which had been put in a heap
to be cleared away. She had just finished it, when Fanny
came tf tell her Mr, Grahame could not wait any longer, and
asking if all the papers on the ground were to be removed,
Caroline hastily answered in the afiirmalive, without looking a(
them, and the girl bore them off in her apron, the written leaf
among tliem.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
200' HOME ISFLUENCE,
Now it so happened that this written leaf had ah-eady oaeoK
EioneJ trouble. Miss Ilarcourt had been so displeased with
Eilen's careless performance of a French exercise that morn-
ing, thai slie had desired ,her to write it j^ain. It was very
diiScult, and had materially shortened the time which she had
promised to devote to Edward, who was this week released
from his attendance on Mr. Howard, to permit him and Ellen
to be as much together as possible. Hurried by him, she left
her book open on the table to dry, and finding it closed on her
return, put it away, without looking at it. The following day
Miss Harcoiiilt ^f course, requested to see it, and, to Ellen's
utter astonishment, her exercise was not there ; only the faulty
and blotted theme, with no sign to explain its disappearance.
Now we know Miss Harcourt was raOier prejudiced against
Ellen, and, as she had unhappily failed in truth more than once,
(perhaps she was not so unjust and harsh as poor Ellen felt her
to be,) she refused to believe her assurance that she had written
it. No one had been in the school-room at the time to whom
she could refer ; if Ellen had never disobeyed or deceived, of
course her word would be sufficient, as her brother's and
cousins' would,
"That you have failed again, both in. obedience and truth,
Efien, I cannot for a moment doubt, and it certainly would he
my duty to inform your aunt directly ; but as I know it would
cause her real suffering to be compelled to punish you just this
last week tliat Edward will be with us for some time, I shall
say nothing about it to her,, nor inflict any penalty' on you to
attract her notice, but it is entirely for her sake I forbear. One
so hardened in falsehood as you must be, so soon to forget hei
kind indulgence after your liuilt only a few weeks ago, can
deserve nothing but harshness and contempt. I shall certainly,
after this week, warn her not to trust too implicitly in your
artful professions of repentance."
Poor Ellen felt too bewildered and too miserable even to
cry. That she had written her exercise, she was as positive
as that she had been told to do so ; but if she had what had
become of it? Harsh as Miss Harcourt seemed, appearances
were certainly very much against her. She had not a single
proof that she had obeyed, and her word was nothing ; even
Emmeline looked at her doubtingly, and as if she could scarcely
even pity her. It was very little comfort to think Jier aunt
was not to be told. Her own impulse was to go to her, and
tell her at once; but how could she be beheved? a'sd Mrs.
Hamilton's word "If I ever discover another untruth Tti.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 201
Bili compel me tD adopt still severer me^ures, paia aa it will
be to myself" tlie remembrance of all she had suffered, the
disappointment it would be to her aunt to think ail she had SEud
and read to her were forgotten, when in reahty she was con-
Btaatlj thinking 'of and trying to act on them, all checked the
impute, and terrified her into silence.
Miss Harcourt was not an acute physiognomist; she could
only read, in Ellen's face hardihood and recklessness. We
rather think Mrs. Hamilton would have read something very
different; hut she was very much engi^ed with Edwaid, and
if she did think Ellen looked much more out of spirits, she
attributed it to natural feeiing at t]ie rapid approach of tie day
of separation. For her brother's sake, to prove to him she
could enter into hia joy, ahe tried very hard not to evince the
least symptom of depression, and never to cry before him at
least; though every night that told her another day had gone,
and brought before her aU sorts of vague feeUngs and fancies
of dread, she either cried herself to sleep, or laid awake, still
more unimppy. The suspicion attached to her seemed to
double the severity of the trial of parting. Edward was her
own ; Edward must love her, with all her faults ; but even her
auiit, her kind, dear, good aunt, must cease to have any affec-
tion for her, if so constantly believed guilty of a sin so terrible
as falsehood. And she seemed to love her brother still more
than ever, every day that brought the hour of parting nearer
sometimes as if she could not bear the psun of not being able
to look at his bright face, and listen to his glad laugh and dear
voice for three, perhaps six long years. Her aunt's gentle
kindness seemed to increase her unhappineas, for though she
knew she was innocent, etUl she felt, if Miss Harcourt bad told
Mrs. Hamilton, she could not be so caressed and cared for, and
she was receiving that which she was believed to have forfeited.
Misa Harcourt's face certainly seemed to ask her as distinctly
as words, how she could be so artful so deceitful as to
permit her aunt to take atich notice of her ; and so she often
shrunk away, when she most longed to sit by and listen to her.
Edward's spirits never sobered, except now and then, when
he thought of leaving Mrs. Hamilton, to whom he had given
the same love he had lavished on his mother, perhaps to a atill
greater extent, for reverence was lai^ely mingled with it. Mr.
Howard, too, was another whom he grieved to leave, and Mrs.
Hamilton so trusted in these apparently strong affections and his
good disposition, as to feel hut little anxiety ; merely sorrow
that she was to lose him for a profession of danger. She did
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
202 HOME imauENCE.
not know, nor did Mr, Howard, nor Edwai-d himself, that Ii3
was one who would be guided more by the influence of those
with whom be was intimately thrown, than by any memory of
the absent, or judgment of his own,
Ellen's manner on Monday evening annoyed and prejudiced
Miss Harcourt still more j Mrs. Greville and Mary, Lady
Helen and all her family, bringing Caroline home with them,
Mr. Howard, and some of Edward's favorite companions, all
assembled at Oakwood, and every one was determined to be
gay and cheerful, and Edward's voice was the merriest, and bis
laugh the happiest there ; and Ellen, though her head ached
with the effort, and the constant struggle of tke preceding
week, was quite cheerful too, and talked to Mary GreviUe, and
Lilla and Cecil Grahame, and even to Mr. Howard, as Miss
Harcoart felt she had no right to do ; and ua must prove her
to be that which she had always fancied her. Mrs, Hamilton,
on the contrary, saw that in the very midst of a laugh, or of
speaking, her niece's eye would rest upon Edward, and the lip
quite quiver, and her smile become for the moment so strained,
that she was satisfied Ellen's cheerfulness proceeded from no
want of feeling ; she wondered, indeed, at so much control at
such an early age, but she loved her for it, notwithstanding.
Once only Ellen was nearly conquered. Mary had begged hei'
to sing a httle Hindoo air, of which she was particularly fond,
and Edward, hearing the request, said eagerly
" Do sing it, dear Ellen ; I am quite as fond of it as Mary
is, for it seems to make me think of India and poor mamma,
and it will be such a long lime before I hear it again,"
She had never in her whole life felt so disinclined to sing,
so as if it were quite impossible as if she must cry if she
did; but Edward would think it so unkind if she refused, for
she did not know herself why his very words should have in-
creased the difficulty, and what reasons could she give him?
Mary went and asked Mrs. Hamilton to accompany her ; and
Ellen did her very best, but her voice would tremble, and just
before the end of the second verse it failed entirely; but still
she was glad she bad tried, for on Mrs. Hamilton saying, very
kindly, and in a voice that only she and Mary could hear, " I
was half afraid you would not succeed to-night, my dear Ellen ;
but you were quite right to try," Mary seemed to understand
at once why it had been so diflicuit for her to oblige her, and
to be quite sony she bad pressed it so much, and Edward had
thanked her, and told her he should sing it in idea very oft ai.
She tried to be merry again, but she could not succeed as
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HCME INFLIIESGE. 203
before, arid so she kept as near her aunt as eho cduld, tUl llie
remainder of the eveoiog, as if she wei-e only safe there.
Edward, too, had a hai'd buttle with himself, as one by one
his favorite companions took leave of him wilh a hearty shake
of the hand, and eager, !)ut in some, half-choked wishes, for
his health and prosperity ; and when all had gone, and Mr.
Howard, who had remained fer prayei-s, took him in his arms,
and solemnly prayed Grod -to bless him, and save him from
danger and temptation, and [.erjiiit him to reliirn to his family,
improved in all things that would make him an affectionate
guardian to his orphan sister, and repay all the love and care
of his aunt and uncle, it was a desperate effort that prevented
bim from sobbing like a child; bat he had his midshipmaa's
uniform on for the first time, aad he was quite resolved he
would not disgrace it ; therefore he only i-eturned Mr, Howard's
embrace very warmly, and ran out of the room. But when
his aunt went info his room an hour afterward, it appeared as
if he had put off his pride and his uniform together, for, though
he was fast asleep, his piUow was quite wet with tears.
The next morning was a very sad one, though Percy and
his father did all they could to make it cheerful : (we ought fo
have said before that Pei-cy and Herbert were both going with
Mr. Hamilton and Edward.) No one liked the idea of losing
Edward for so long a time. He had made himself a favorite
with all, even with every one of the servants, who, when the
carriage was ready at eleven o'clock, thronged into the hall to
take a last look at him. He was so altered, fiat he had that
morning, actually of his own accord, shaken hands with every
one of them who had ever done any thing for him, especially
EDis and Morris, and Robert, fo whom he had given a vciy
handsome present, and thanked him for all his attention.
He kept up very manfully fill he came to his aunt, whose
emotion, as she held him in a close embrace, was so unusually
visible, and for the moment he seemed so to love her, that the
idea of the sea lost half its delight, and he felt as if he could
almost have liked to remain with her. But Percy's joyous
" Come, Master Edward, I thought you were a sailor, not a
eehoolboy ; off with you ; you will not give me time or room
for one kiss from mamma before we go," roused him, and he
tried (o langh in the midst of his tears, gave Ellen another
kiss, and ran into the carriage, where he was quickly followed
by his imele anjt cousins, and in a very few minutes Oakwood,
dear, happy O^wood, as his whole heart felt il at tha^ mo'nent
was hidden from his sight.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
Elkn remaned by the window, looking after the carriaga
long after it was impossible to see or hear it, very pale, bud he:
eyes very heavy, but not in tears j and as her aunt went toiler,
and put her aim roand her, and began talking to her very
cheirfuily of all Edward would liave to write to her about, and
how soon they might hear fronx him, and that EUen should an-
swer him as often and as fully as she liked, and that she would
not even ask to see her letters to him, or jjl his to her, as they
might have many little affectionate things to say to each other
that they might noj care about any one efee seeing, and shs
would trust them both Ellen seemed as if one pahi was
soothed, and if indeed she heard often frwi him, she might bear
his depurture. But there was still the other source of unhap-
piness, i-ecalled every lime she met Miss Harcourt's cold, sus-
picious look, which had not changed even then. StiH she tried
to join her cousins, and get her work, for there were no studies
that morning, and so some Httle time passed, by Mrs. Hamil-
ton's exertions, almost cheerfully; but fieu Ellen left the room
to get something she wanted, and, in seeking her own, passed
Edward's room, the door of which stood half open. She could
not resist entering, and every thing spoke of him so vividly,
and yet seemed so to tell her he had gone, really gone, and she
was quite alone, that all the pjun came hack again worse than
ever, and she laid her head oa his pillow, and her long-checked
tears flowed with almost passionate violence.
" My dear Ellen, I have been lo(A.ing for you everywhere,"
said her aunt's kind voice, fuU an hour afterward ; " Emmeline
went into your room and could not find you, and I could not
imagine what had become of you. It was not wise of you to
come here just this morning, love. You have been so brave,
so unselfish all this week, that I must not let you give way now.
Try and think only that Edward will be happier as a sailor
tbau he would be remaining with you ; and though I know you
must miss him very, very painfully, you will be able to bear it
better. Poor Alice Sealon, of whom you have heard me speak,
has no such comfort ; her brother could not hear the idea of a
sea life, and is scarcely strong enough for it ; and yet, poor fel-
low, it is the only opening his uncle has for him, and his poor
sister has not only that pain to bear for you can fancy how
dreadful it would be, if Edward had left ua for a life in which
be thought he should be miserable but is obliged to leave the
aunt she loves, as much, I think, as you love me, EUen, and go
OB a teacher in a school, to bear her accumulated sorrow quite
alone. Sad as your trial is, you have still many hings to bless
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 21^5
Glod for, dual est, ai i. am sure you will acknowledge, if, when
tiic pain of the preseat moment has subsided, you think of Alice,
and try lo put yourself in her place."
" It is not only parting from Edwai^," answered, EUen try-
ing to check her tears, but clasping her arms still closer round
her aunt as if dreading that her own words should send her
from her.
"Not only parting from Edward, Ellen, love! what is it
then ? tell me," replied Mrs. Hamilton, surprised and almost
alarmed. But Ellen could not go on, much as she wished it,
for her momentary courage had deserted her, and she coul
only cry more bitterly than before. " Have you done any thing
wi-ong, EUen? and have you forgotten my promise?" inquired
her aunt, after waiting several minutes, and speaking very sor-
rowfully.
"Miss Harcourt thinks I have, aunt; but indeed, uideed, I
have not; I have not been so very wicked as to tell another
falsehood. I know no one can believe me, but I would rather
you should know it, even if if you punish me again."
" You Taunt try to be more eahn, my dear Ellen, and tell me
clearly what ts causing you so much additional suffering ; for I
cannot quite understand you. I certainly shall not punish you,
unless giito convinced you have failed in truth again, which I
do not think you have. Tell me exactly what it is, and look at
me while you are speaking,"
, Ellen tried to obey, but her grief had gfuned such an ascend-
ency, that it was very difficult. Mrs. Hamilton looked very
thoughtful when she ceased, for she re^ly was more perplexed
than she allowed Ellen to perceive ; and the poor child fancy-
ing her silence could only mean disbelief and condemnation,
Temained quiet and trembling by her side.
"I promised you that I would not doubt you, EUen, and I
will not now, though appearances are so strong against you,"
she said, after several minutes' thought. " Come with lae to the
sihool-room, and show me your exercise-book ; I may find some
clew to explain this mystery,"
Ellen thought that was quite impossible ; but, inexpressibly
comforted by her aunt's trust, she went with her directly.
" EUea has been telling me that you have been very much,
displeased with her, my dear Lucy," Mrs. Hamill^ju swd, directly
she entered, addressing Miss Harcourt, who was sitting read-
ing with Caroline and Emmoline, " and cerlainly with great
apparent justice ; but she is so unhappy about it, that I can
BCaif ely believe that she has forgotten all which passed betw een
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
206 HQME INVLtlEKCt.
US a short time ago, and I am going, therefore, with ytrne [lei^
mission, to try if I cannot discover Bomething that may throw a
light on the subject,"
" I am afraid that scarcely will be possible," replied Miss
Harcourt; "however, I am glad she has had the candor to tell
you, instead, of continuing to receive your notice, as she has
done the last week." Ellen had brought her book while Miss
Harcourt was speaking, and Mrs. Hamilton attentively exa
mined it."
"Did you not begin one lite this the same day, Caroline?"
"Yes, mamma; don't jou remember we were ohhged ta
send to Harris for tliem ? as the parcel with the stationery did
not eome from Exeter as soon as we expected. And we no-
ticed how much thinner they were, though they were the same
sized books."
"And did I not hear you say something about their having
the same number of leaves, and therefore it must have been
only the quahty of the paper which made the difference ?"
" What a memory you have, mamma," answered Caroline,
smUing " I did not think you were taking the least notice of
us^but I do remember saying so now, and, indeed, I very often
wish the quahty had been the same, for our writing looks
horrid."
" Do JOU happen to leraember the number of leaves they
contained, and li they weie both alike' "
" I know they had both the same number, and I think it was
two-and-twenty, hut I can tell you m a moment." And with
her usual quickness of movement, Caroline unlocked her desk,
di-ew forth her book, and ran over the leaves.
" I am right two-and-twenty,"
"And you are quite sure they had botli the same number ? "
" Perfectly certain, mamma."
" Then, by some incomprehensible means, two leaves have
disappeared from Ellen's hero are only twenty. Have you
ever torn a leaf out, Ellen ? "
" No, aunt, indeed I have not.'
" When did Miss Harcourt tcU you to write this missing ex-
ercise ? "
" Last Monday week I mean yesterday week."
" Where did you write it, and what did you do with youi
book afterward ? "
" I wrote it at this fable, aunt : I was so sorry I had to do
it, when Edward depended so much on my going oiit with him,
that I thought it would save time not to get my desk ; and ai
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 20?
Eoon as it was done, I left it. open to dry. Wlien 1 came home
tt v&s closed, and I put it away witliout looking at it, and the
next morning the exercise was not there."
"Who was in this room after you left it? by-the-by, it was
the morning- yon went to Lady Helen's, Caroline ; did you no-
tice Ellen's book open, as she said ? Wliy, what is the matter,
my dear? " she added, observing that Caroline looked as if
some suddeu light had flashed upoa her, and then, really
gi-ieyed.
" I am so very, ve)y sorry, mamma ; I do believe it has been
bU my haste and carelessness that has caused'EUen all this ua
happiness. I was in such a hurry to copy the poem for Lady
Helen,. that I fore a blank leaf oat of an open book on tlie
table, without thinking whose it was. In my haste the book
fell to the gj'ound, I picked it up to write on it, but never no-
ticed if the fellow-leaf fell out, which it must have done, and
no doubt Fanny carried it away with some other lorn papers,
which she asked me if she were to destroy. I am more sorry
than I can lH you, Ellen ; pray believe that I did not do ii
purposely."
"I am. sure she will, if it be only for the comfort of our
knowing the truth," said Mrs. Hamilton, truly relieved, not
only from the explanation, but perceiving Caroline's voluntarily
ofiered kiss was willingly and heartily returned by Ellen. It
was almost the first she had ever seen exchanged between
" I must believe jou, dear Caroline, for .yoK ;;- 'e^ hkv w,'' e
you do not mean," said Ellen, parnestly ; "but lido so" \.isi'
Miss Harcourt could see my ese (cise ; sIie)wouId quite believe
"And we should all be more satisfied," replied Mrs. Hamil-
ton, perceiving in a moment that Miss Harcourt still doubted,
and ringing the bell, she desired the footaian to send Fanny to
her.
" Do you remember taking some torn papers from this room
the morning you went to tell Miss Hamilton that Mi', Grahame
was waiting?" she asked.
" Yes, madam."
"And were they all tora up in small pieces ? "
"No, madam; there was one like the page out of a book,
which made me ask Miss Hamilton if they were aC to be de-
etrcyed. It was such a nice clean piece, only being written oh
one side, that I wrapped up some lace In it Mrs. Ellis hav-
ing only half an hour before scolded me for not keeping it mcro
cai-efuUy."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
208 HOME INFLUENCE.
" Bring me tlie leaf, my good girl, and Miss Ellon will give
you a still better piece for the purpose," replied her mistress,
quite unable to suppress a smile, and Ellen hastily took out a
.arge sheet of writing paper, and the moment Fanny returned
(she seemed gone an age) gave it to her, and seized her own,
which she placed in her aunt's hand, without being able to
speak a. single word.
"I think that is the very theme, and certainly Ellen's writ-
ing, my dear, Lucy ; we can have no more doubt now," said
Mrs. Haroilton, the moment Fanny had left the room, delight
ed with the exchange, and drawing Ellen close to her, fw thfi
poor child could really scarcely stand.
"I have done you injustice, Ellen, and I beg your pardon,"
rephed Miss Harcourt directly, and Mrs. Hamilton would have
been better pleased had she stopped there, hut she could not
help adding, " You know I should never have doubted you, if
you had not so often forfeited truth."
EUen's first impulse had been to go to her, but her last
words caused her to bury her face on her aunt's shoulder.
" I really think, EUen, you ought to thank Ellis for giving
Fanny a scolding, as it has done you such excellent service,"
resumed Mrs. Banriiton, playfully; *'and what fee are you
going to give me for taking upon myself to prove your inno-
cence Id open court? I thiii myself so very clever, that I
shall tell Percy I am a better lawyer without study, than he
can hope to i^e with. You don't seem to be very capable oi
JR-ng astyi' 3-bttt klssingmenow, andso I will not be very
"^uflting. You' 'have j'Tied ywraelf tdniostill, and so must bear
the pesalty. Go and lie dowi in my di-essing-room for an hour
or two ; Emmeline, go with your cousin, and see what a kind,
affectionate nurse you can be till I come. It is never too early
to practise such a complete woman's office,"
Emmeline, quite proud of the charge, and more grieved than
she very well knew how to express, till she was quite alone
with EDen, that she; loo, had suspected and been cold to her
the last week, left the room with her cousin. Caroline seemed
to hesitate for a moment^ but she was quite certain by her
Biother's face that she wished to speak with Miss Harcourt, and
so, without facing told, took up her book, and went into' the
Eibrary,
"And now, Lucy, I am going to ask you a personal favor,"
began Mrs. Hamilton, the. moment they were alone.
"That I will try and not judge Ellen so harahly again," was
her instant reply; "yo'i have every right to desire it, my dear
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME ISKLUESCE, 20'J
fritnd, not to ask it as a favorj I was too prejudiced and too
hastj J but your own dear cluldren are so truthful, so open, that
I fear thoy have quite spoiled me for tJie necessary patience
and forbearance with others."
" Tou have not quite guessed it, Lucy. Appearances were
30 Tery strongly against tbat poor child, that I am not at all
sfitonished you should have disbelieved her assertion. In the
moment of irrilation, it is not unlikely I should have done so
myself; but the favor I am going to ask you, is merely that
yoii will try and newer ihow that you doubt her word, or refer
to her past failures. I am quite convinced that untruth is not
Ellen's natural disposition, but that it has been caused by tbe
same circumstances which have made her such a painfiiUy
timid, too humble character. If, with all her efibrts to conquer
herself, she still finds her word doubted, and the past brought
forward, she never will be able to succeed. Examine as strictly
and carefully as you please, and as I am. sure she will desire,
if necessary as she did to-day but oblige me, and wever
doubt her. If she finds we never do, it wiU raise her self-es-
teem,' aild give her a still further incentive to adhere as strictly
to the truth, as she sees we believe she does. I am certain the
habit of falsehood has often been strengthened by tbe injudi-
cious and cruel references to one or two childish fibres. If 1
am never to be believed, what is the use of trying to tell the
truth ? is the very natural question ; and the present pain of
carefulness being greater than the visible amount of evil, tlie
habit is confirmed. Will you oblige me ? "
" Of course I will, dearest Mrs. Hamilton ; how can you talk
BO ! Have you not a right to desire what you think proper, in
my guidance of your children, instead of so appealing to me as
an equal ? "
"And are you not? My dear Lucy, have I ever, in act or
word, considered you otherwise ? In the very intrusting my
children to your care, do 'I not prove that I must think you
BO ? Have you lived with me all these years, and not yet dis-
covered that I have some few notions peculiar perhaps to my-
self, but that one among them is, that we can never consider
too much, or be. too grateful to those invaluable friends who
help us in the training of our children ? "
"I have lived long enough with you to know that -khere
never was, never can be, any -Woman like you, either as wife,
mother, mistress, or friend !" exclaimed Miss Harcourt, with
most unusual fervor.
" You did nat know your own mother, deare.;t Luc^'. as how
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
210 HOME IKFLCENCK
I wish you had, or you would not think so. Every firm, trutli'
fill, estimable quality I may possess, under God's blessing, I
owe to her. Aa a, young child, before she came to me, and
some years afterward, I was more like Ellen than either of my
own darlings ; and tl^t perhaps explains the secret of my love
for, and forbearance with her."
"Like Ellen!" repeated Miss Harcourt, much surprised;
"forgive me, but, indeed, I can scarcely beliere it."
" It is truth, notwithstanding ; my poor father's great prefer-
nc for Eleanor, when we were children, her very superior
beauty and quickness, threw me back into myself; and I am
quite certain if it had not been for your excelieat mother, who
came to live with us when I waa only seven, my character
would have suffered as much from neglect on the one side, and
toa painful humility on my own, as EDen's has done. I can
understand herfeehngs of lonehnesa, miaappreciation, ehi-inking
into herself, better even than she does herself,"
"But your affection and kindness ought to have altered her
character by this tim.e."
"Hardly eighteen months is not long enough to removt.
the painful impressions and influences of eleven sorrorful
years. Besides, I scarcely know all these influences ; I fear
sometimes that she has endured more than I am aware of. So
you must think charitably of my fancy, dearest Lucy," she
added, smiling, "an^ help me to make Ellen as much like me
as a woman, as I believe she is to me as a child ; and to do so,
try and think a httle, a very iittle, more kindly and hopefully
of her than you do."
"I really do wish you were not quite so penetrating, dearest
Mrs, Hamilton ; there is no hiding a single feeling or fancy
from you," answered Miss Harcourt,. slightly confused, but
laughing at the same time. " What with your memory, and
your quick observation, and your determined notice of Httle
tilings, you realty are a most daogferous person to live with ;
and if you were not more kind, and indulgent, and true than
anybody else, we should all be frightened to come near you."
" I am glad I have some saving qualifies," replied Mrs. Ha-
milton, laughing also ; "it would be rather hard to be isolated
because I can read other people's thoughts. However, we
have onlored into a compact," she continued, rather more seri-
ously ; "you will never show that you doubt Ellen, and in any
diiHcuIt matter, come at onee to me," and Miss Harcourt will-
ingly assented.
The day panned much more happily than the morning joiild
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
EOlie tKKLUENCE. 211
liave anticipated. Emmeline'a noraing was so affectionate and
successful, that Ellen was quite able to join them at dinnei'
and her aunt had selected such a very interesting story to read
aloud, in which one ctai-acter was a young sailor, that the
hours seemed to fly ; and then they had a long talk about poor
Alice Seaton and her brother, whether it would be possible for
Mr. Hamilton lo place young Seaion in a situation that he
liked better, and liat Ms health was more fitted for. Ellen
said she should like to see and know Alice so much, for her
trial must be suet a very Jiard one, that her aunt promised her
she should in the midsuioiaer holidays, for Alice should then
come and spend a week with theia. It seemed as if not to bo
able to wish Edward good-night, and kiss him, brought back
some of the ptun again ; but she found that thinking about pool'
Alice, and fancying how miserable she' must be, if she loved
her aunt as dearly as she did Mra. Hamilton, to be obliged to
part from her as well aa her brother, and live at a school, made
her pain seem less absorbing ; as if to help Alice- would do
more toward curmg it than any thing. And though, of course,
every day, for a little while, she seemed to misa Edward mere
and more, still her aunt's affection and her own efforts, prepjiied
her to see her uncle and cousins return, and listen to all '.tey
could tell her about him, without any increase of pain.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
PART III.
SIN AND SUFFERING.
ADVANCE ASD KETK03PECT.
Oun readcra must imagine that two years and four HMmtba
hare elapsed since our last visit to the inmates of Oukwood.
It Has the first week in Mar eh that Edward Fortescue (only
war.ting fen days for the completion of his fourteenth yeai')
quitted a home which was happier than any he had ever ]mQ.wn,
lo enter the world as a sailor; and it is the 7th of June, two
years later, the day oa which Ellen Fortescue completes her
fifteenth year, that we recommence our narrative.
Over this interval, however, much as we are anxious to pro-
ceed, we must take a hrief glance, clearly to understand the
aspect of the Oakwood home affairs, which, from the increasing
^e of the younger members, bad undergone some slight change.
The greatest and most keenly felt was the departure of Percy
and Herbert for college, the October twelvemonth after Edwanl
had gone ; the house seemed actually desolat without them.
Percy's wild jokes and inexhaustible spirits, and Herbert's
quiel^ unobtrusive kindness, much as they had always been
truly appreciated by their home circle, still scarcely seemed to
have been fiilly felt till the young men were gone ; and the old
hoi^se actually seemed enwrapped in a silence, which it re-
quired very determined effort on the part of all who remained
in the least degree to dispeh
Our readers who are mothers, and earnest ones, will easily
understand the anxious tremblings of Mis. Hamilton's heart,
when she parted from her boys for the world : for such, to
spirits fresh, boyish, unsophisticated, as they still were, Oxf rd
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 213
could not fail to be. For Herbert, indeed, she had neither
fear I or doubt : no sneer, no temptation, no had example, would
affect him, in whuiu every passing year seemed to increase and
deepen those exalted feelings which, in his earliest childhood,
had " Jess in them of earth thaa heayen," His piety was so
real, his faith so fervent, his affectiona so coneentrated in his
home and in one other individual, his love and pursuit of study
so ardent and unceasing, Ms one mm, to become worthy in
heart and mind to serve God as his minister, so ever present,
that he was effectually guarded even from the world, Percy
had none of these feelings to the same extent^ save his ardenl
love for home and its inmates his mother, above all. He
did, indeed, give every promise that the principles so carefully
instilled had taken flrm root, and would guide his conduct in
the world; hut Mi-s. Hamilton was too humble-minded too
convinced that every human effort is imperfect, without the
sustaining and vitalizing grace of God, to rest in security, as
many might have done, that because she Lad so worked, so
pmyed, she must succeed. She was hopeful, indeed, very
hopeful how could she be otherwise when she beheld his
deep, though silent, reverence for sacred things his constant
and increasing respect and Jove for his father his devoted
affection for herself his attachment to Herbert, which seemed
so strangely yet so beautifully to combine almost reverence for
his superior mind and hoUer spirit, with the caressing profct-
iveness of an elder for a younger a stronger for a weaker?
There was much in all this to bajiish anxiety altogether, but
not from such a lieart as Mrs. HamUton's, whose very mulli-
plicity of blessings made her often tremble, and led her to the
footstool of her God, with a piety as hnmble, as constant, as
fervent, as. many believe is the fruit of adversity alone.
Caroline had sufficiently improved as greatly to decrease
solicitude on her account: though there was BtiSl a want of
sufficient humiUty, a too great proneness to trust impHcitly in
her own strength, an inclination to prejudice, and a love of
admiration, which all made Mrs. Hamilton fear would expose
lier to some personal sorrow ere they were entirely overcome.
To produce eternal good, she might not murmur at temporal
suffering; but her fond heart, though it could anticipate it
jalmly for herself, so shrunk from it, as touching her child, that
the nearer approached the period of Caroline's introduction to
Ihe gay world, the more painfully anxious she became, and the
more gladly would she have retained her in the retirement of
Oakwood, where all her better and higher qualities al me ha*l
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
214 HOME INPLUKSCE.
play. But sbe knew this could not be; and she could o.ilj
trust that her anxiety would be proved as gi-oundIes3 with Csi-
i-olino, as every letter from Oxford proved it to be with Percy,
and endeavor to avert it by never wavei'mg in her ivatehfiil and
g aiding love.
Emmeline, at fifteen, was just the same sportive, happy,
innocent child as she" had been at twelve. Her feelings were,
indeed, stiil deeper, her imagination more vivid, her religion
more fervid. To her every thing was touched with poetry it
mattered not how dull and commonplace it might seem to other
people ; but Mrs. Hamilton's judicious care had so taught that
7Vu(A alone was poetry and heauty the Ideal only lovable
when its basis was the Real that she was neither romantic nor
visionary. Keen as her sensibilities were, even over a work
of fiction, they pi'ompted the deed and act of kindness, not tlie
tear alone. For miles round her father's large domain she
was known, loved, so felt as a guardian spirit, that tlie very
sound of her step seem.ed to promise joy. She actually seemed
to Jive for others making their pleasures hers; and, withal,
60 joyous, especially in her own home and at Greville Manor,
that even anxiety seemed exorcised when she was near. Be-
fore strangers, indeed, she woidd he as shy as a young fawn ;
though even then natural kindliness of heart prompted such
kindness of word and manner, as always to excite the wish to
see her again.
Edivard, in the two years and a quarter which he had been
away, had only once occasioned anxiety. Two or three montlis
after he had sailed, he wrote home in the highest terms of a
certain Gilbert Harding, one of tlie senior nudshipmen of his
yliip, from whom ho had received kindness upon kindness ; and
who, being six or seven years older than himself, he jestingly
wrote to his aunt and uncle, must certainly be the very best
friend he could have chosen, as he was much too old to lead
him into mischief. Wliy he (Harding) had taken such a fancy
to him, Edward could not tell ; but he was so excessively kind,
so taught him his duty, and smoothed all the diflieulties and dis-
agreeables which, he owned, had at first seemed overwhelming,
that he never could be grateful enough. He added, that,
though not a general favorite wjth his immediate messmates, he
was very highly estesmed by Sir Edward Manly and his other
superior officers, and tliat the former had much commended him
for his kmdness to the youngest boy on board, which Edward
was. It was very easy to perceive that young Fortescue's sus-
ceptible iffections had all been not only attracted, but alrei^dj
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOIIK KFLUENCli, 215
riyuted by this new friend. All tlie young tiarly of Oakwood
rejoiced at it ; Mrs. Hdiiiilton would have done so also, had she
not perceived an ansioua expression on her husband's face,
which alanned her. He did not, however, make any remark
lei! he had spoken to Mr. Howai'd, and then imparted to his
wife alone (not choosing to create suspicion in the open hearts'
of his children) that this Gilbert Harding, though very young at
the time, had hetm one of the principal actors in the aifair which
liad caused Mr, Howard to dismiss his pupils, as we related in
a former page ; that his very youth, for he could scarcely havo
been more than eleven or twelve, and. determined harfihood, so
marked natural depravity, that Mr. Howard had had less hope
for him than for any of the others. This opinion had been
home out by his after conduct at home ; hut the affair had been
successfully, hushed up by his family; and by immense interest
he had been permitted to enter the navy, where, it was said, his
youthful errors had been so redeemed, and fiis courage and
conduct altogether had so won bim applause, that no farther
fears were entertained for him. Mr, Howard alone retained
his opinion, that the disposition was naturally bad, and doubted
the internal response to the seeming outward good; and he was
grieved and anxious beyond measure, when he heai'd that he
was not only oa board the same ship as Edward, but already
his favorite companion and most trusted friend. His anxiety,
of course, extended itself to Mr. and Mi-s. Hamilton to such a
degree, that at the first moment they would gladly have endea-
vored to exchange his ship ; but this would have seemed very
strange to Sir Edward Manly, who was one of Mr. Hamilton's
most valued friends. He had, in fact^ actually delayed Edward's
becoming a midshipman till Sir Edward could take him in iis
own ship, and now lo place him elsewhere was really impossible ;
and, after all, though he might be removed from Hardiifg'a in-
fluence, how could his anxious guardians know all with whom
be might be throivn ? They were obhged to content themselves
with writing earnestly and affectionately to Edward ; and, pain-
ful as it was, to thi-ow a doubt and shade over such youfiiful
confidence aad afiection, implored him not to trust loo im-
plicitly in Harding ; that his character had not always been free
from stain ; that ho (Edward) was still so young and so sus-
ceptible, he might find that he had imbibed principles, and been
tempted to wiong almost unconsciously, and suffer fram its
effects when toq late to escape. They wrote as afi^ectionafoly
and indulgently as they could Mr. Howard, as well as his
aunt and uncle; but still they felt that it ceclainly did appear
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
216 HOME INFLUENCE.
crijel to warn a young, warm heart to break off the first friend-
ship it had fonned ; especially aa he beheld that friend approved
of by his captam, and looked up to by the crew. And that
Edward's reply was somewhat cold, though he did promise cau-
tion, and assure them he had not so forgotten the influences
and principles of Oakwood as to allow any one to lead him into
error, did not surprise them. He never referred to Harding
agiun, except sometimea casually to mention his companion
sMp, or some act which had won hirn approval ; and they really
hoped their letters had had at least the efiect of putting him
on his guard. Sir Edward Manly's own reply to Mr. Hamil-
ton's anxious appeal to him, however, succeeded in quieting
their fears ; he assured them he had seen nothing in Harding's
conduct, since he had been at sea, to render him an unfit com-
panion for any boy ; that he had heard of some boyish faults,
but it was rattier hard he was to suffer from them as a man ;
and he assured his friends that he would keep a strict look-out
after young Fortescue, and the first appearance of a change iii
a character which, young as he was,'he oouid not help loving,
should be inquired info, and the friendship ended by sending
Harding to some other ship. So wrote Sir Edward Manly,
with the fullest possible intention to perform ; and Edward's
anxious friends were happy, more especially as letter after let-
ter brought praises of the young sailor from captain, officers,
and crew, and his own epistles, though brief, were affectionate
and satisfactory.
It was happy for Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, and Mr. Howard,
too, that they were ignorant of the multiplicity of great and
little things which could not fail to engross'the mind of Sir
Edward Manly, who was not only captain of the Prince Wil-
liam, a gallant seventy-four, but commander of the little flotilla
which accompanied him, or they could not have rested so secure
Happy for them, too, during those years of separation, that they
were not perfectly acquainted with Edward's real weakness of
character, or of tiie fearful extent of mischief which the influ
ences of his first twelve years had engendered. Had he re
mfuned at Oakwood till nineteen or twenty, it is probable they
would haye been insensibly conquered, and the impressions of
good, which he had appeared so readily to receive, really taken
root and guided his after life, but eighteen months could not do
tliis, as Mrs. HamHtoa would have felt, had she
effect of her sister's ill-judged partiality and ii
this, as we have already mentioned, was concealea
tlie bright, lovable, winning qualities, which alone
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 217
most. Our readers, in. fact, know more of Edward (if they
have at all thought of his conduct in so frequently allowing his
sister to suffer for him) than his aunt, penetrative as she was ;
and, therefore, in the events we shall have occasion to relate,
we trust that Mrs. Hamilton will not appear an inconsistent
character, inasmuch that one in general so successfully observ-
ant, should fail in penetration when most needed.
Edward's life at Oakwood had been so very happy, its plea-
sures and indulgences so innocent, so numerous, that he did not
himself know his liability to temptotion, from the excessive love
of pleasure which his mother's indiscreet indulgence had origin-
ally infused. The control which his uncle and Mr. Howard
exercised over him had been so very gentle and forbearing,
that he had scarcely ever felt the inclination to exert self-will,
and when it so chanced that he had, EUen had covered his
fault, or borne its penalty for him. He thought he had guided
himself, when, in fact, he was guided ; but this could no longer
be the case when one of the httle world which thronged a first-
rate mau-of-war. Outward actions were, indeed, under control ;
but what captain, the most earnest, most able in the worlc^
could look into and guide the hearts of all those committed to
his care ? And almost the first action of Edward's unbiased
will was iudignautly to tear info shreds, and scatter fothe winds
and the waves, those affectionate and warning letters, and ding
the more closely to, rest the more confidingly on, Harding, for
the wrong that he thought he had done him, by allowing his eye
even to,rest for a moment on such base, unfounded aspersions
When Mrs. Hamilton told Ellen that her letters to her
brother, and his to her, should never be subjected to any scru-
tiny but their own, she acted on a principle which many parents
and guardians would consider as high-flown and romantic, and
which she herself had most painful reason to regret the
effects, at least, but not the principle itself, for that was based
on too refined a feeling to waver, even though she suffered from
it. She could not bear, nor could her husband, the system
which prevailed in some families of their acquaintance, that
their children could neither receive nor write letters to each
other, or their intimate friends, without being shown to their
seniors. As for opening and reading a letter directed to one
of them, before its possessor saw it, as they had seen done, it
was, in their estimation, as much dishonor and as t.iean, as if
such a thing had been done to an adult. Perfect confidence
in tlieir Lome they had iudeed instilled, and that confidenoo
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
218 HOME INFLUENCK
was iievef withbeld. There was a degree of suopidon attached
to a demand always to see what a child had written or received,
from which Mra. Hamilloa'a pure miad actually shrunk in
loathing. In the many months the Grahame family passed in
London, Annie and Caroline corresponded without the least
restraint; no doubt many would pronounce Mrs. Hamilton
very univise, knowing Annie so well, and trembling for Caro-
line as she did; but, as she told Miss Harcourt, she had some"
notions peculiar to heraelf, (they always had the sanction and
sympathy of her husband, however,) aod this was one of tliem.
She was always pleased and interested in all that her children
read lo her, either from their own epistles or those ibey re-
ceived, and if they wished it, read them herself, but she never
asked to do so, and the consequence was, that the most perfect
confidence was given.
When Ellen and Edward parted, they were both so young,
that Mr. Hamilton had hesitated as to whether his wife was
quite justified in the perfect trust with which she treated them,
and whether it would not be wiser to overlook their correspond-
ence; but Mrs. Hamilton so argued that their very youth was
tteir safeguard, that they were all in all to eah other, and as
such she wished thom to feel they were bound by even a closer
and. a fonder tie than that of brother and sister under other cir-
cumstances, so won overherjiusband that be yielded; and from
the long extracts that Ellen would read of Edward's letters to
the family in general, and of her own to her aunt, he was quite
BiUisfied as to the wisdom of his wife's judgment.
For fuO a year after Edward's departure, Ellen's conduct
and general improvement had ^ven her aunt nothing but plea^
sure ; even Miss Harcourt's and Caroline's prejudice was nearly
removed, though, at times, the fancy would steal over both that
she was not exactly what she seemed, and that that which was
hidden was not exactly that which Mrs. Hamilton believed it ;
and this fancy, strengthened by a certain uidefinable yet felt
change in Ellen, commencing about thirteen months after she
had parted from her brother. Mrs. Hamilton herself, for some
time strove against belief, but at length she could no longer
conceal from herself that Eilen was becoming reserved again,
and fearful, at times almost shrinking, and sad, as in her child-
hood. The openness, and almost light-heartedness, which for one
brief year had so characterized her, seemed completely but. so
insensibly to have gone, that Mrs. Hamilton could not satisfy
herself as to the time of the commencement, or reason of the
charge. Her lemper, too, became iitful, and altogeth- r hei
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOMt: ISt'LUENCE. 21'J
('unt't anxiety and bewilderment as to her real ctai-acter re-
turned in fall force. Once, when gently questioned as to why
her .empor was so altered, Ellen confessed with tears, that she
knew it was, but she could not help it, she believed she was
not well ; and Mrs. Hamiltoa called in Mr. Maitland, who said
that she really was in a highly nervous state, and required eare
and quietness, ajid the less notice that was taken of her mo-
mentary irritability or depression the better. Little did the
worthy man imagine how his young patent blessed him for
these words ; giving a reason for and so allowing the trepidation
which paled her cheek, parched her lips, and made her hand
so tremble, when she received a letter from her brother, to pass
unnoticed.
But change in maimer was not all; almost every second or
third month Ellen's allowance of pocket-money (which was un-
usually liberal, aa Mrs. Hamilton wished to accustom her girls,
fram an early age, to purchase some few articles of dress for
themselves, and so learn the value of money) most strangely
and mysteriously disappeared. Ellen either could not or would
not give any account of it; and, of course, it not only exposed
her to her aunt's most serious displeasure, but inexpressibly
heightened not only Mrs. Hamilton's bewilderment and anxiety,
but Miss Harcourt's and Caroline's nnspokeo prejudice. From
the time of Edward's departure, EUen had never been dis-
covered in or suspected of either uttering or acting an untruth;
but her silence, her apparent determined ignorance of, or reso-
lution not to confess the cause of the incomprehensible disap-
pearance of her allowance, naturally compelled Mrs. Hamilton
to revert to the propensity of her childhood, and fear that truth-
fulness was again deserting her. Her displeasure lasting, of
course, the longer from Ellen's want of openness, and the air
of what almost appeared to her anxious yet still affectionate
aunt like suUen defiance (in reality, it was almost despair,)
when spoken to, caused a painful degree of estrangement be-
tween tiiem, always, however, giving place to Mrs. HamUton'a
usual caressing manner, the moment Ellen seemed really re-
pentant, and her ntonth's expenditure could be properly ex-
plained.
For six or eight months before th,e day on which we recom-
mence our narrative, there had been, however, nothing to com-
plain of in Ellen, except still that unnatural reserve and fre-
quent depression, as if dreading something she knew net wJi^l^
which, as every other part of her conduct was satisfactor y, Mrs.
Hamilton tried fo comfort herseif was physical done. Tio refer-"
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
220 HOME INFLUENCE.
ence to the past was ever made; her manner to her niece
became the same as usual; but she could not feel secure as to
her character, and, what was most painful, there were times
when she was compelled to doubt even EOen's affection for
herself, a thing she had never had the slightest cause to do even
when she was a little inanimate child.
But very few changes had taken place in the Greville and
Grahame families. Mrs. Greville's trial continued in unmiti-
gated, if not hightened bitterness : tlie example, the companion-
ship of his father had appeared to have blighted every good
seed which she had strenuously endeavored to plant in the
bosom of her son. At sisteen he was already an accomplished
man of the world, in its most painful sense : he had his own
companions, his own haunts ; scarcely ever visiting his home,
for a reason which, could his poor mother have known it, would
have given her some slight gleam of comfort. lie could not
associate either with her or his sister, without feeling a sort of
loathing of himself, a longing to be to theiu as Percy and Her-
bert Hamilton were at Oakwood ; and not having the moral
courage sufficient to break from the control of his father, and
tLe exciting pleasures in which that control initiated him, he
shrunk more and more from the only spot in which better feel-
ings were so awakened within him as to give him pain. To
deaden this unacknowledged remorse, his manner was rude
and unfeeling, so that his very visits, though inexpressibly
longed for by his mother, brought only iacreaae of grief.
Mrs. Greville seemed herseff so inured to suffering, that she
bore np against it without any visible failmg of health ; strug-
gling against its enervating eifects, more, perhaps, than she
was aware of herself, for the sake of one treasure still granted
her her own almost angel Mary, who, she knew, without
her love and constant cheerfulness, must sink beneath such a
constant aggravated trial. Yet that very love brought increase
of anxiety from more than one cause. As yet there was no
change in their manner of living, but Mrs. Greville knew that,
from the excesses of her husband and son, there very soon
must be. Euin, poverty, all its fearful ills, stood before her in
perspective, and how could Mary's fragile frame and gentle
spirit bear up against them ? Agsuu and again the question
pressed upon her Did Herbert Hamilton indeed love her
child, as every passing year seemed to confirm? and if he did,
would could his parents consent to his union with the child
of such a father, the sister of such a brother? There wert
alwiys long messages to Mary in Herbert's letters to his mother
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 221
wliieh. Mrs. Hamilton not only delivered herself, but soroetimea
liveii pt the whole letter into Mtiry's hand, and at last laugh
ingly said, she really thought they liad much better write to
each other, as then she should chance to get a letter all to her-
self, not merely be the medium of a commlinication between
them ; and Mary, though she did slightly blush, which she was
in the habit of doing for scarcely any thing, seemed to think it
so perfectly natural, that she merely said, if Herbert had time
to write to her, she should like it very much, and would cer-
tainly answer him.
" My dear Enuneline, what are you about ? " was Mra. Gre-
ville's anxious appeal, the moment they were alone.
" Giving pleasure to two young folis, of whom I am most
excessively fond," was Mrs. Hamilton's laughing reply. " Don't
look so terrified, my dear Jessie. Tbey love each other as boy
and girl now, and k the love should deepen into that of man
and woman, why, all I can say is I would rather have your
Mary for my Herbert than any one else I know."
"She is not only mi/ Mary!" answered the poor mother,
with such a quivering of eye and lip, that it checked Mrs. Ha-
milton's joyousness at once.
" She is 1/our Mary, in all that can make such a character as
my Herbert happy," was her instant reply, with a pressure of
Mrs. Grevillo's hand, that said far more than her words. " I
am not one of those who like to make matches in anticipation,
for man's best laid schemes are so often overthrown by the
most trifling but unforeseen chances, that display a much vriser
providence than our greatest wisdom, that I should consider it
almost sinful so to do; but never let a thought of suffering
cross your mind, dearest Jessie, as to what my husband's and
my own answer will be, if our Herbert should indeed ever wish
to choose yonr Mary as his wife, and, certainly a most important
addition, should she wish it too. Our best plan now is to let
them follow their own inclinations regarding correspondence.
We can, I am sure, trust them both, for what can be a greater
pi-oof of my hoy's perfect confidence in my sympathy wi*h his
feelings toward her, than to make me his messenger, as he has
done, and as he, no doubt, will continue to do, even if he write.
I have not the smallest doubt^ that he will inclose me his lettei's
to her unsealed, and I rather think your Mary will send n:e
her replies in the same unreserved manner."
And she was right, Nor, we think, did the purity and inno-
cence of those letters, so intensely interesting to eadi other
[jive place to any other style, even when they chanced to die
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE.
coffer tliat Mi-a. Hamilton was utterly ignorant of their con
tents, except that which they chose to read or impart to her
But oven this assurance, on the part of one so loved an]
trusted as Mrs. Hamilton, could not entirely remove Mrs, Gi-e-
ville's vague anticipations of evil. Mr. Greville always shun-
ned, and declared he hated the Hamilton family ; but as he
seemed to entertain the same feeling toward herself and her
poor Mary, she tried to comfort herself hy the idea that he
would never trouble his head about his daughter ; or ho glad
to got her out of his way, especially if she married well. Still
ansiety for the future would press upon her; only calmed hy
her firm, unchanging faith in that gracious, ever-watchful Pro-
vidence, who, if in spite of her heavy troubles she still tried to
trust and serve, would order all things for the best j and it was
this, this faith alone, which bo supported her, as to permit her
to make her child's home and heart almost as happy as if her
path had all been smooth.
In the Grahamo family a change had taken place, in Master
Cecil'sbeiag sent to Eton some time before his father had in-
tended ; hut so many cases of Lady Helen's faulty indolence
and ruinous indulgence had come under his notice, that he felt
to remove the boy from her influence must be accomplished at
any coat. Cecil was quite delighted, hut his mother was so in-
dignant, that she overcame her habitual awe of her husband
sufRciently to vow that she would not live so far from her son,
and if he must go to school, she must leave Moorlands. Gra-
hame, with equal positiveness, declared that he would not give
up a home endeared to him so long, nor so entirely break off
his companionship with his dearest friends. A very stormy
dialogue of course took place, and ended by both parties being
more resolved to entertwn their own opinion. The interposi-
tion of Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, however, obtained some con-
cession on Grahame'a part:, and he promised that if Lady
Helen would make Moorlands her home from the middle of
July till the end of October,. November and December should
be spent in the vicinity of Eton, and she should then have six
months for London and its attractions. This concession brought
hack all Lady Helen's smiles, and charmed Annie, though it
was a source of real regret to Caroline, who could not help
feeling a little pained at her friend's small concern at this long
separation fi-om her. But still she loved her ; and, as Annie
wrote frequently, and when she was at Moorlands n^ver tired
pf Lei society, (the eight months of absence giving her so mudi
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME ISlLlENCi. 22Z
inleresting matter to impart,) Corolme was not only 'Jitisfied,
but insensible to the Tittr wont of sympathy which Annie
manifested in her pur8uit8,Aer pleisuies Mrs Hamilton often
wished that Caroline had chosen one moie desenmg of Iier
friendship, but she trusted that time and experience would
teach her Annie's real character, and so did not feei any anxiety
on that score.
There was only one member in Grahame's family, that Mr.
and Mrs. Iljimilfoa hoped might hring joy and comfort to their
friend, and that was his httle Lilla. She was five years younger
than Annie, and being much less attractive, seemed almost for-
gotten, and so was spared the dangerous ordeal of flattery and
indulgence to which Annie had been subject; and from being
more yiolent and less agreeable than Cecil, was not so frequent-
ly spoiled by her mother. They feared the poor child would
have much to endure from her own temper, Annie's overbear-
ing insolence, and Lady Helen's culpable indolence ; bnt Mrs.
Hamilton hoped, when she resided part of the year in London,
as she feit slie would very soon be called upon to do, to be en-
abled to rouse Grahame's attention toward his youngest child,
and pi-evail on him to relax in his sternness toward her ; and
by taking notice of her continnaUy herself, instil such feelings
in her aa would attract her toward her father, and so increase
the happiness of both. Every visit of the Grahame family to
Moorlands, she resolved to study LiUa well, and try all she
could to make one in reality so estimable, as her husband's
friend, happy, in one child at least.
It had been Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton's intention to go to Lon-
don the January after Caroline was seventeen, and give her the
advantage of flnishing masters, and a partial introduction to the
world, by having the best society at home, before she launched
into all its exciting pleasures; to return to Oakwood in July or
August, and revisit the metropohs the following February or
March, for the season, when, as she would be eighteen and a
half, she should be fully introduced. Caroline, of course, antici-
pated this period with intense delight. She was quite satisfied
that in her finst visit she should study as much as, if not more
than before; and content and thankful that her mother would
allow _Jier to enter so far into society, aS' always to join dinnei
or evening parties at home, and go to some of her most intimate
friends, when their coteries were very small and friendly; and
another eagerly anticipated delight, sometimes go to the opera
and the best concertsj and visit all the galleries of art.
To poor Emmeline these anticipations gave no pleasu,-e whal-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
234 HOJIE ISFLUENCE.
ever ; she Lated the very thought of leavmg Oakwdod, firmlj
convinced that not the most highly intellectual, nor the most
delightful social enjoyment in I*ondon, could equal the pure
delights of Devonshire and home. Ellen seemed too engrossed
with her own thoughts to evince a feeling either way, mueh to
her aunt's regret, as her coastaiit quietness and seeming deter
mined repression of her sentiments, rendered her character still
more difficult to read.
But a heavy disapjwintoient was preparing for Caroline, in
the compelled postponement of her bright anticipations; to un-
derstand the causes of which, we must glsuice btuik on an event
in the Hamilton family, which had occurred some years before
its present head was bom. In the early part of the reign of
George the Third, Arthur Hamilton, the grandfather of our
friend of the same name, had been sent by government to the
coast of Denmark : his estimable character so won him the re-
gard of tlie reigning sovereign. Christian VII., that, oil his de-
parture, the royal wish was expressed for liis speedy return.
On his voyage home, he was wrecked off the Feroe Islands, and
rescued from danger and death by the strenuous exertions of
(he islanders, who entertained tiim and the crew with the utmost
hospitality, till their ship was again seaworthy. During his in-
voluntary detention, Mr. Hamilton became deeply interested in
the Feroese, a people Uving, it seemed, in the midst of desola-
tion, a cluster of small rocky islets, divided by some hundred
miles of stormy sea from their feUows. He made the tottr of
the islands, and found almost all their inhabitants possessing the
same characteristics as those of Samboe, the island off which he
had been wrecked ; kind, hospitable, honest, temperate, inchned
to natural piety, but bo perfect^ indifferent to die various pri-
vations and annoyances of their lot, as to make no effort toward
removing them. Travelling either by land or sea was so dan-
gerous and difficult, that in some parishes the clergyman could
only perform service twice a year,* or once every one, two, or
three months. The islands in which the clergyman resided
were, Mr. Hamilton observed m a much highei state of civili-
zation and morahty than &amboe and some others and an
earnest desire took possession of him to do some real sei-vice
for those who had saved him from danger ind treated him so
hospitably. He very speedly acquired their languige which
gave him still more influence He found also that if their
'e o so the attlh r a DdcLteil to a
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 225
aneien; customs and traditions were left undisturbed, thej irere
(erj easily led, and this discovery strengthened his purpcse.
His departure was uniyersally regretted; and his promise to
retu -n imagined too great a privilege to be believed.
A3 soon as his political duties in England permitted, Mr
Hamilton revisited Deoraark, and was received with sueh cor-
diality as to encourage him to make his petition for the improve-
ment of his majesty's poor subjects of Samboe. It ivas gi^anted
directly; the little island so far made over to him, that he was
at liberty to introduce and erect whatever he pleased within it;
and Mr. Hamilton, all eagerness for the perfection of his plans,
returned with speed to England; obtained the valuable aid of
a poor though worthy clergyman, -who, with his wife, volunta-
rily offered to make Samboe their home, and assist their bene-
factor (for such Mr. Hamilton had long been) to fbe very best
of their ability. A strong-built vessel was easily procured, and
a favorable voyage soon transported them to Feroe. The de-
light of the Samboese at beholding their former guest again,
prepossessed Mr. and Mrs. Wilson in their favor, and Mr. Ha-
milton, before his sis months' sojourn with them was over, be-
held the island in a fair way of religious and moral improve-
ment Schools were formed and masters appointed houses
were made more comfortable women and young children
more cared for, and employments found, and sufficiently reward-
ed to encourage persevering labor. Three or four times Mr.
Hamilton visited the island again before his death, and each
time he had more reason to be satisfied with the effect of his
schemes. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were perfectly Happy. Their
son was united to the pretty and excellent daughter of one of
the Danish clergymeo, and a young family was blooming round
them, so that there seemed a fair promise of the ministry of
Samboe continuing long in charge of the same family,
Mr. Hamilton, on his death-bed, exacted a promise from his
son that he would not permit the island to fall back into its old
habits ; but that, if required, he would visit it himself. The
visit was not required, but Percy Hamilton, (the father of the
oi-esent possessor of Oakwood,) from respect to his fathei-'s
inemoiy, made a voyage to Samboe on the demise of the elder
Wilson. He found every thing flourishing and happy ; Fre-
deric Wilson had been received as their pastor and head, witli
as much joy as their regret for his father would permit ; and
Mr. Hamilton returned to England, satisfied wilh himself, and
ineKpressibly touched by the veneration still entertained in that
distant island for bis father. The same promise was demanded
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
226 HOME INFLUENCE.
by him fi^om his son, and Arthur Hamilton had visited Feroc
direclly ailer the loss of his parent, and before his engagement
with Miss Manvers. He found it in the same satisfactory con-
dition as his predecessors had done, and the letters he regularly
received rnjnfirmed it ; but for the last year and a half he had
received no tidings. Frederic Wilson, he knew, was dead, but
his last account had told him his eldest son, who had been edu-
cated in Denmark, had been gladly received by the simple peo-
ple, and promised fair fo be as much loved, and do the same
good as his father and grandfather. The silence then was in-
comprehensible, and Mr. Hamilton had resolved, if another
year passed without intelligence, it would be a positive, duty to
visit it himself.
CHAPTER ir.
, AND IT3 CONSEQDENCE3.
It was the seventh of June, and one of those glorious morn-
ings, when nature looks lovelier than ever. The windows of
the breakfast-room were thrown widely open, and never did the
superb trees of Oakwood Park look richer or display a greater
variety of green. The flower^arden, on part of which the
bi-eakfast-room opened, was aclally dazzhng with its profusion
of brilliant flowers, on which the sun looked down so gloriously ;
a smooth lawn, whose green was a perfect emerald, stretched
down from the parterre, till it was lost in woody openings,
wliieh disclosed the winding river, that, lying as a lake on one
side, appeared to sweep round some exquisite scenery on the
opposite side, and form another lake, about a mile further. It
was Emmeline's favorite view, and she always declared, that
it so varied its aspects of loveliness, she was sure it never
looked two mornings exactly alike, and so long would she
stand and admire, that her mother often threatened to send
her her breakfast in her own room, where the view, though
pietui-esque, would not so completely turn her attention from
the dull realities of life. There were some letters on the table
this morning, so she Lad a longer time to drink in poetry than
usual.
" Who can offer Ellen a more precious hirthday-gift than
[nine ? " extlaimed Mrs. Hamilton, playfully holding up a letter
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
JIOJIE ISfLULSOE. 227
as hei" niece entered. " I wonder if Edward remembered how
near Lis sister was to -fifteen, and so wrote on the ciianee of
your receiving it on the day itself? "
" Why, Ellen, what a queer effect pleasure !ias on you ! I
always notice you turn quite pale whenever Edward's lettei's
are given to you," interposed Eromeline, looking at her cousin,
and laughing. " I am sure, the very hurry 1 am in to open
Percy's and Herhert's, must give me a color, and you aie aa
deliberate as if you did not care about it. I do wish you would
not be so cold and quiet,"
" One giddy braia is quite enough in a house," rejoined her
ftither, in the same mirthful tone, and looking up from his letlei',
iie called Ellen to him, and kissed her. " I forgot the day of
the month, my little girl, but I am not too late, I hope, to say,
God bless you, and wish tiiat every yeai may pass moi-e hap-
pily, more usefully, and more prepared for eternity than the
last 1 "
" I do not think yoa have forgotten it, my dear uncle," re-
plied EUen, gratefully (she had not yet opened her brother's
letter) ; "for my aunt says, I am to thank you as well as her
for this beautiful birth-day gift," and she displayed an elegant
little gold watch ; " indeed, I do not know how to thank you
for all your kindness ! " she added, so earnestly that tears came
to her eyes.
" I wiU say, as I have heard your aunt often say by trying
to be a little more hvely and unreserved, my dear Ellen ; thai
would prof^e our kindness and afieciion made you happy, better
than any thing; but I am not going to lecture you on your
birthday, and with a letter from Edward in your hand," he
continued smiling. "Open it, my dear, I want to know its
date ; I rather think my friend Manly's must be written later."
"Nothing in it for me, Ellen?" asked her aunt. "What a
lazy boy he has grown I "
"An indosure for you, Ellen ; why, that is as queer as your
paleness ! " said Emmeline.
"Do let your cousin's paleness alone," interposed Mrs, Ha-
milton, gayiy. "I really cannot perceive she has any less
eolor than usual, and as for the indosure, Edward often has
gomething to add at the last moment, and no room to insert it,
and so there is nothing remarkable in his using another half
sheet."
" Emmeline always creates wonders out of shadows," said
Caroline, dryly.
"And you never see any thing but dull, coarse, heavy rp-alJ
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
iiao HOME INFLUENCE.
ties," laughed her sister in reply. " Come, Ellen, tell us somo
thit:g of this idle brother of yours, who promised to write to
me every packet, and never does."
Ellen read nearly the whole letter aloud, and it was unusually
entertaining, for the ship had been cruising about the las!
month, and Edward described the Tarioua scenes and new placej
he had visited moi-e lengthily than usual He anticipated with
great glee an engagement with some desperate pirates, whoso
track they were pursuing.
"Does he mention an engagement?" inquired Mr. Hamillin.
" No, uncle j he concludes quite abruptly, saying they have
just piped all bauds, and he must be off. The direction dooa
not seem his writing."
" Nor is it ; Sir Edward sealed, directed, and put it up for
him in his own to me. They had piped all hands, as he calls
it, because the pirate ship was in sight, and an engagement did
take place."
"And Edward ob, uncle, is he hurt ? I am sure, he is, by
your face," exclaimed Ellen, trembling ; and all the little circle
looked alarmed.
" Then my face is a deceiver," replied Mr. Hamilton, quite
cheerfully. " He only received a slight flesh wound in his
right arm, which prevented his using it to complete his letter,
and I rather think he would have wiUingly been hurt stiU more,
to receive such praises aa Sir Edward lavishes on him. Listen
to what he says 'Not a boy or man on board distinguished
himself more than your nephew; in fact, 1 am only astonished
he escaped as he did, for those pirates are desperate fighters,
and when we boarded them, Fortes cue was in the midst of them,
fighting like a young lion. Courage and gallantry are such
dazzling qualities in a young lad, that we think more of them
perhaps than we ought, but I cannot say too much for your
nephew ; I have not a lad more devoted to his duty. I was
glad lo show him my approbation by giving him some days'
liberty, when we were off New Tork; but I have since told
him the air of land certainly did not agree with him, for he has
looked paler and thinner ever since. He is growing very fast ;
and altogether, if I have oeeasioa to send another prize schooner
home, I think it not improbable I shall nominate him as one
of the officers, that he may have the benefit of the healtful
breezesof Old England, to bring back his full strength.' There,
Ellen, I think that is a sUIl better birthday-present than even
Edward's own letter. I am as proud of my nephew as gii
Edward is."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME ISFLUENOE. 239
"And do you think he realiy will come?" asked EUen, try-
(tig to conquer ter elnotion.
" We will hope it, dearest," replied her aant, kindly. ' But
do not think too much ahout if, even if Sir Edward be not able
to do as he says. His 6wn ship frill be coming home in a year
or two, and you owned to me yourself this morning, it did not
seem as long as it really is, since our dear sailor leti us ; z-j th^
remaining time will soon pass. Finish your breaifast, and go,
love, and enjoy bis letter agaia to yourself."
And Ellen gladly obeyed ; for it was from no imaginary cause
that the receipt of Edward's letters so often paled her cheek, and
parched her lip with terror. She knew that concerning him
which none else but Harding did; and even when those letters
imparted nothing but that which she could read to her family,
the dread was quite enough to banish any thing like the elastic
happiness, natural to her age, and called for by the kindness
of those she loved. His letter this time, however, had not a
woi-d to call for that sickness of the heart, with which she had
received it ; and she read it again and again, with a thankful-
ness too intense for words.
" Xou dropped this, EUen dear," s^d the voice of her cousin
Emmeline at her door, ten minutes after she left the breakfast-
room. "It was under the table, and I do not think you have
read it ; it is the inclosure I was so amused at."
" I dare say it is a letter written for some other opportunity,
and forgotten to be sent ; it is only a few words," replied Ellen,
as she looked at its length, not at its meaning, for th'c fearful
leasoa of quiet uneoneern when the heart is bursting had been
too early learned.
" Then I will leave you In peace : by-the-by, cousin mine,
papa told me to tell you, that as the Prince William is soon
going to cruise again, your answer to Edward must be ready
this day week, the latest, and mamma says, if you like to write
part of it now that all Edward's little love-speeches are fresh in
your mind, you can do so ; it is your birthday, and you may
spend it as you like. How I shall enjoy making a lion of my
colisin, when he comes ! " and away tripped the happy giil,
singing some wild snatch of an old ballad about sailors.
Ellen shut the door, secured it, and with a lip and cheek
colorless as her robe, an eye strained and bloodshot, read the
following words few indeed !
" Ellen I I am again in that villain's power, and for a sum
80 trifling, that it maddens me to think I cannot discharge it
without again appealing to you. I had resolved never to play
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
230 HOME IKFLUEtiCH.
again and again some demon lui-ed me lo those Hells ! If 1
do not pay Lim by my next receipts from home, he will expose
me, and what then disgrace, expulsion, death I for I will nol
survive it ; there are easy means of self-destraction to a sailor,
and who sliall know but that he is accidentally drowned ? You
promised me to save part of every allowance, in case I needed
it. If you would indeed save me, send me five-and-thirty
pounds. Ellen I by some means, I mmt have it ; but breathe
it to my uncle or aunt for if she knows it, he will and vou
will never see me moi-e ! "
For one long hour Ellen never moved. Her brain felt scftrch-
ed, her limbs utterly powerless. Every worf seemed to write
itself in 'letters of fire on her heart and brain, till she could
almost have seream.ed, from the dread agony; and then eame
the heavy weight, so often felt before, but never crushing every
thought aud energy as now, the seeming utter impossibili^ to
comply with that fearfully urged demand. He called it a sum
so trifling, and she felt a hundred, ay, a thousand pounds were
not more difficult to obtain. She had saved, indeed, denying
herself every little indulgence, every personal gratification,
spending only what she was obliged, and yet compelled to let
her aunt believe she had properly expended all, that she might
have the means of sending him money when he demanded it,
without exposing herself to doubt and displeasure as before ;
but in the eight months since his last call, she had only been
enabled to put by fifteen pounds, not half the sum ho needed-
How waa she to get the rest? aud she had so buoyed herself
with the fond hope, that even if he did write for help again,
she could send it to hini so easily and now her mind
seemed actually to reel beneath the intense agony of these des-
perate words. She was too young, too believing, and too terror-
itrickea to doubt for a moment the alternative he placed before
her, with a vividness, a desperation, of which he was uncon-
scious himself. Those words spoken, would have been terrible,
almost awful in one so young though a brief interval would
have sufficiently calmed both the hearer, and the speaker, to
satisfy that they were but words, and that self-destruction la
never breathed, if really intended : but written, the writer at a
distance, imagination at liberty to heighten every terror, every
reaUty ; their reader, a young loving girl, utterly ignorant of
the world's ways and temptations, and the many errors tc which
youth is subject, but from which manhood may spring up un-
sullied ; and so believing, almost crushed by the belief, that bet
bi-other, the only one, her own respected, belc ved, as he nae
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
UOME INFLUENCE. 231
Stdd to be had yet committed such faults, as would Lml hiiu
from his present position to the lowest depth of degradation,
fiir what else could tempt him, to swear not to survive it ? Was
it marvel, that poor Ellen was only conscious that she must save
liimF Again did her dying mother stand before her again
did her well-remembered voice beseech her to save him, her
darling, beautiful Edward, from disgrace and punishment
reiterate that her word was pledged, and she must do it, and if
ehe suffered had she not done so from infancy and what
was her happiness to his ? Define why it should bo of leap
moment, indeed, she could not.- It was the fatal influencses of
her childhood working alone.
How that day passed, Ellen never knew. She had been too
long accustomed to control, to betray her internal suffering, (ter-
ror for Edward seemed to endow her with additional self com-
mand,) except hy a deadly paleness, which even her aunt at
length remarked. It was quite evening, and the party were all
scattered, whea Mrs. Hamilton discovered Ellen sitting in one
of the deep recesses of the windows ; her work in her- lap, her
hands clasped tightly together, and her eyes flsed on the beau-
tiful scenery of the park, but not seeing a single object.
"My dear Ellen, I ani going to scold you, so prepare," was
her aunt's lively address, as she approached aad stood by her.
" Yoti need not start so guiltily and look so very terrified, hut
confess that you are thinking about Edward, and worrying your-
self that he is not quite so strong as he was, and magnifying his
wound, till you fancy it something very dreadful, when, I dare
say, if the truth were told, he himself is quite proud of it ; come
confess, and I will only give you a very Uttle lecture, for your
excessive silliness."
Ellen looked up in her face ; that kind voice, that affectionate
smile, that caressing, constantly forgiving love, would they again
aU be forfeited, again give way to coldness, loss of eonfldence,
heightened displeasure ? How indeed she was to act, she knew
not; she only knew there must be concealment, the very antici-
pation of which, seemed too terrible to bear, and she burst into
an agony of tears.
"Why, Ellen my dear child you cannot be well, to let
either the accounts of your brother, or my threatened scolding,
BO affect you, and on your birthday, too 1 Why, all the old
women would say it was such a bad omen, that you would be
unhappy all the year round. Come, this will never do, I m:ist
lecture, in earnost, if you do not try to conquer tliis ununjal
weakness. We have much more to be thankful Ibr, in Sir
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
232 HOaiE DJFLUESCE.
Edward's account of our desir sailor, than to cry about ; te
might have been seriously wounded or mmmed, and wliat would
you have felt then ? I wonder if he will find as much change in
you as we shall jn him. If you are not quite strong and quite
well, and quite happy to greet him when he comes, I shall
consider my care insulted, and punish, you accordingly. Still
no smEe. What is the matter, dearest ? Are you really not
well again ? "
Ellen made a desperate effort, conquered her tears, and tried
to converse cheerfully. It was absolute agony to hear Edward's
name, but she nerved herself U do so, to acknowledge she waa
thinking of him ; and that it was. very silly to worry about such
a slight wound : and when Mrs. HamiltiMi proposed that they
should walk over to Greville Manor, and tell the good news to
Mrs. Greville and Mary, acquiesced with' apparent pleasure.
"Ah do, mamma: you have not asked me, but I shall go not-
withstanding," exclaimed Emmeline, sprin^ng tlirough the open
window, with her usual airy step.
"Why Emmeline, I thought you were going to the village
with your sister ! "
" No ; she and Miss Harcourt were talking much too soberly
to suit me this evening. Then I went to tease papa, but he let
me do just what I pleased, being too engrossed with some dis-
agreeable farmers, to noUce me ; so in despair, I came here.
Why, Ellen, you look as if this were any day but what it is ;
Dnlesa you cry because you are getting old, which I am very
often inclined to do only think, I am sixteen nest December
how dreadfiiU I do wish my birthday were in June."
" And what difference would that make ? "
" A great deal, mamma ; only look how lovely every thing
is now ; nature is quite juvenile, and has di-essed herself in so
many colors, and seems to promise so many more beauties, that,
whether we wilt or no, we must feel gay and young; but iu
December, thou^ it is very delightful in the house, it is so
drear and withered without, that if boi-n in such a season, one
must feel withered too."
" When do you intend to speak in prose, Emmeline ? "
" Never, if I can help it, mamma ; but I must learn the lesson
before 1 go to London, I suppose ; that horrid London ! that
is one reason why I regret the years going so fast ; I know I
shall leave all my happiness here."
" Tou will be more ungrateful, than I believe you, if you do,"
replied her mother. So pray banish such foolish fancies as fast
as y^'i can; for if you encourage them, I shall certainly eap-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME IKFLUKNCE. 2.-J3
poae that it is only Oakwood yoTi love ; and that neillier youi
father nor mysulf, nor any member of your family, has any
part in j oUr affections, for we shall he With you, wherever you
" Dear manunxi, I spoke at random, forgive me," replied Em-
meline, instantly aeif-reproahed. "I am indeed the giddy
briun pafia caila me ; but you cannot tell how I love thia dear
old home."
" Indeed I think I can, my dear child, loving it as I do my-
self; but come, we shall have no lime for our visit, if we do not
;o at .once."
Days passed, and were each followed by such sleepless fever-
ish nights, thilt !Ellen felt it almost a miracle that she could so
seem, so act, as to excite no notice. The image of her dying
mother never left her, night or day, mingled with the horrid
scene- of her father's death, and Edward disgraced, expelled,
and seeking death by his own hand. There was only one plan
that seemed in the least feasible, and tliat was to send to him,
or sell herself the watch she had received on her birthday, and
if that was not enough, some few trinkets, which had been her
mother's aad which the last sis months her aunt had given into
her own care. She ventured casually to inquire if there were
any opportunity of sending a parcel to Edward; but the answer
was in the negative, and increased Ler difficulty. The only
oerson she dared even to think of so far intrusting with her
leep distress and anxiety for money, but not its cause, was
,vidow Langford, the mother of Robert (the young gentlemen's
attendant, whom we have had occasion more than once (o men-
tion, and the former nurse of all Mr. and Mrs. Hatnilton'a child-
I'en.) She occupied a cottage on the outskirts of the park, and
was not oolya favorite with all the young party, Ellen included,
(for she generally came to nurse her in hermany illnesses,) but
was regarded with the greatest confidence and affection by Mr.
and Mrs. Hamilton themselves. They iiad endeavored to re-
turn her unwavering fidelity and aetive service, by taking her
only child Robert into their family, when only seven ; placing
him under the immediate charge of Morris, the steward, and of
course living in' the same house, of his mother also; and when
fifteen, making him personal attendant to Percy and Herbert,
who were then about ten and eleven years old. An older and
more experienced domestic had, however, accompanied the
young men to college, and Robert remained employed in many
little confidential services for his master at Oakwood.
To widow Langford, Ellen tried to resoh-e that she would
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
B34 HOME MFLUEJJCE.
apply, but her fearful s'tate of mental agony had not marked thp
lapse of time, or Iiad caused ber to forget that her letter must
be ready in a week. The party were all going a delightful ex-
curaion, and to drink tea at Greville Manor, so that they would
not be home till quite lata ; but in the morning, Ellen, though
she had dressed for going out, appeared to have every symptom
of such a violent headache, that her aunt advised her remaining
quietly at home, and she assented with eagerness, refusing every
crfTer of companionship, saying if the pain went off, she could
quite amuse herself, and if it continued, quietness and Ellis's
nursing were the best things for her.
" But give me your letter before we go out, Ellen, I am only
wailing for it, to close mine to Sir Edward. Why, my dear
have you foi^tten 1 told you it must be ready by to-day?" her
uncle added, surprised at her exclamation that she had not
finished it. "It must be done and sent to T , before four to-
day, so I do hope your head will allow you to write, for Ed-
ward will be wofully disappointed if there be not a line from
you, especially as, from his ship cruising about, it may be se-
veral weeks before he can hear again. I must leave my letter
with you, to inclose Edward's and seal up, and pray see that it
goes in time."
EUen tried to promise that it should, but her tongue actually
clove to the roof of her mouth ; but all the party dispersing at
the moment, her silence was unnotjced. Mr. Hamilton gave
her his letter, and in half an hour afterward she was alone.
She sat for nearly an hour in her own room, with her desk be-
fore her, her face buried in her hands, and her whole frame
shaking as with an ague.
"It must be," she said at length, and unlocking a drawer,
took thence a small cross, and one or two other trinkets, put
them up, and taking off her watch, looked at it with such an
expression of suffering, that it seemed as if she could not go on,
carefully folded it up with the other trinkets, and murmuiing,
" If nurse Langdon will but take these, and lend me the twenty
pounds till she can dispose of them, I may save him yet and
if she betray me if she teU my aunt afterward, at least only
I shall suffer ; they will not suspect him. But oh to lose
to be doubted, hated, which I niust be at last. Oh, mother
motlter! Why may I not tell my aunt? she would not disgrace
him." And again she crouched down, cowed by that fearful
struggle to the very earth. After a few minutes, it passed, and
deliberately putting on her bonnet and shawl, she took up her
trinkets, and set off to the widow's cottage, her limbs so trera-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 285,
bling, that she knew not liow slie should iiccomplish even thai
ehoTt walk.
The wind was unusually high, although the day was othei-
wise Icvely, and she was scai'cely able to stand agamst the
strong breeze, especiaUy as every breath seemed to increase
the pain ia her temples ; but she persisted. The nearest path
lay through a thick shrabbery, almost a wood, which the family
never used, and, in. fact, the younger members were prohibited
Irom faking, hut secrecy and haste were all which at that mo-
ment entered EUea's mind. She felt so exhausted by the wind
blowing the branches and leaves noisily and confusedly around,
that on reaching a sort of grassy glade, more open than her
pi-evious path, she sat down a minute on a mossy stone. The
wind blew some withered sticks and leaves toward her, and,
among fhem, two or three soiled pieces of thin paper, stained
with damp, one of which she raised mechanically, and starled
up with a wild cry, and seized the others almost unconsciously.
She pressed her hands over her eyes, and her lips moved in
the utterance of thanksgiving. " Saved ! Edward and my-
self, too ! some guardian angel must have sent them ! " if not
ftctually spoken, were so distinctly uttered in her heart, that she
(hought she heard them ; and she retraced her. steps, so swift-
ly so gladly, the very pain and exhaustion were unfelt. She
wrote for half an hour intently eagerly ; though that which
she wrote she knew not herself and never could recall. She
took irom the secret drawer of her desk (that secret drawer
which, when Percy had so laughingly showed her the secret of
its spring, telling her nobody but himself knew it, she little
thought she should have occasion so to use,) some bank notes,
of two, three, and five pounds each, making the fifteen she had
so carefully hoarded, and placed with them the two she had
found. As she did so, she discovered that two had clung so
closely together that the sum was five pounds more than she
wanted! Still, as acting under the influence of some spell, she
carelessly put one aside, sealed up the packet to Edward, in-
closed it in her uncle's to Sir Edward Manly, and despatched it
full four hours before the hour Mr. Htwnilton had named. It
was gone ; and she sat down to breathe. Some impulse, never
experienced before, urged her, instead of destroying Edward's
desperate letter, as she had done similar appeals, to retain it in
ft blank envelop in that same secret drawer. As she tried to
rouse herself from a sort of stupor which was strangely creep-
ing over her, her eye caught the five pound note which she had
not had occasion to use, and a thought of such overwhelming
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
286 HOME INFLUENCE.
wretchedness rushed upon her, as effectually, for the moment,
to disperse that stupor, and prostrate her in an agony i.f suppli-
cation before her God.
" What have I done ? " if her almost maddening thoughia
could have found words, such they would have been " How
dared I appropriate that money, without one question one
thought aa ( whom it could belong? Sent mo? No, no!
Who could have sent it ? Great God of Mercy ! Oh, if Thy
wratli must fall on a guilty one, pour it oq me, but spare, spare
my brother I I have sinned, but I meant it not thought not
of it knew not. what I did! Thou knowest, Thou alone
canst know, the only thought of that moment the agony of
this. No suffering, no wrath, can be too great for me ; but,
oh 1 spare him ! "
How long that withering agony lasted, Ellen knew not, nor
whether her tears fell, or lay scorching her eyes and heart.
Te note lay before her like some hideous spectre, from which
she vainly tried to turn. What could she do with it ? Take it
back to the spot where the others had been blown to her?
She tried to rise to do so ; but, to her own terror, she found she
was so powerless, that she actually could not walk. With des-
pei-ate calmness, she placed it in the HtUe secret drawer, pat up
the remainder of her papers, closed and locked her desk, and
laid down upon her bed, for she could sit up no longer. EUia
lame to her with an inquiry after her head, and if she could
Lake her dinner. Ellen aaked for a cup of coffee, and to be left
quite quiet instead, as writing had not decreased the pain ; and
the housekeeper, accustomed to such casual attacks, did as she
was requested, and came frequently to see her in the course of
the afternoon and evening ; still without perceiving any thing
unusual, and, therefore, not tormenting her with any expression
of surprise or anxiety.
Thought after thought congregated in tie poor girl's mind,
as she thus lay ; so fraught with agony that the physical suffer-
ing, which was far more than usual, was nnfelt, save in its para-
lyzing effect on every limb. Her impulse was to confess ex-
actly what she had done to her aunt, the moment she could sec
her, and conjure her to sentence her to some heavy chastise-
ment, that must deaden her present agony ; but this was im-
possible without betraying Edward, and nullifying for him the
relief she had sent. How could she confess the sin, withoutthe
full confession of the use to which that money had been applie 1 ?
Whose were the notes ? They were sttuned with damp, as if
they must have lain among those withered leaves some 'ime ;
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLL-ENUK. 237
and yet ste liad heard no inquiry made about them, as the loss
if so lai'ge a aiinr would surely Lave demanded. The only plan
she could think cf, as briuging the least hope of returning peace;
was still fo beseech Mrs. Langford lo dispose of her wafh and
trinkets, and the very first mention she heard made of the
loss to return the full sum to tie real possessor, if possible, so
secretly as for it not to be traced to hei-self. She thought, too,
that if she gave her trinkets, one by one, not all together, to
Mrs. Langford, it would be leas suspicious, and, perhaps, more
easily prevail on her to grant her secrecy and assistance ; and
if she positively refused, unless Ellen revealed the reason of
her desiring their disposal, and would solemnly promise secrecy,
she would tell her so much of her intense misery, as might per-
haps induce her to give her aid. J she did not demand the
reason and betrayed her, she must endure the doubt and serious
displeasure such a course of acting on her part would inevita-
bly produce ; but two tilings alone stood clear before her ; she
must replace that money she nrnst keep Edward's secret.
She would have gone tliat very day to Mrs. Langford, but she
could not move, and Ellis, at seven o'clock, prevailed on her to
undress and go to bed.
" Not better, my Ellen ? I hoped to-day's perfect quietness
would have removed your headache, and am quite disappoint-
ed," was Mrs. Hamilton's affectionate address, as she softly
entered her niece's room, on the return of the happy party at
eleven at night, and placing the lamp so that the bed remained
in shade she could not see any expression in Ellen's face,
except that of suffering, which she naturally attributed to phy-
sical pmn. " How hot your hands and face are, love s I wish
you had not left Edward's letter to write to-day. 1 am afraid
we shall be obliged to see Mr. Maitland's face again to-mor-
row ; if he were not as kind a friend as he is a skilful doctor, 1
am sui-e you would get quite tired of him, Ellen. Shall I stay
with you? I cannot bear leaving you in pain and alone!'
But Ellen would not hear of it ; the pain was not more than
she was often accustomed to, she said, and, indeed, she did not
mind being aJone though the unusual, almost passionate,
warmth with which she returned Mrs. Hamilton's fond kiss, be-
trayed it was no indifference to the affectionate offer which
dictated her refusal. It was well Mrs. Hamilton, though anx-
ious enough to feel the inclination to do so, did not visit her
niece again, or the convulsive agony she would have witnessed,
the choking sobs which burst forth, a few minutes after shu
disappeared fiom Ellen's sight, would have bewildered and tei
rified her yet more.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
ilOJIE IKFLXIEKCE.
CHAPTER III.
L 9UMM0HS AND A I.O
Mk. Maitland declared Ellen to be ill of a nervous fever,
which for three days confined her to her bed, and left her verj
weak for some little time, and so nervous tliat the least thing
seemed to startle her; but, as he said it waa no consequence,
and she would soon recover, Mrs. HamUloti adopted his advice,
took no notice of it, and only endeavored to make her niece's
daily ivDutiue aa varied in employment, though regular in houra
and undisturbed in quiet, as she could. Perhaps she would
have felt more anxious, and discovered something not quite
iisuai ia Ellen's raantier, if her thoughts had not been painfully
preoccupied. About a week after their exctrrsioo she entered
the library earlier than usual, and found her husband intently
engaged with some despatches just received. She saw he was
more than ordinarily disturbed, and hesitated a moment whe-
ther to address him ; but he was seldom so engrossed as to be
unconscious of the presence of his wife.
" I am really glad you are here at this moment, Emmeline,
for I actually was weak enough to shrink from seeking you
with unpleasant news. Letters from Feroe have at length ar-
rived, and my personal presence is so imperatively needed, that
I am self-reproached at not going before; the long silence
ought to have convinced me that all was not as it should be."
" But what has occurred, Arthur ? I had no idea you con-
templated the necessity of going," replied his wife very qui-
tly, as she sat down dose by him; but the fiat of separation,
the thoughts of a perilous voyage, a visit to an almost desolato
island, and the impossibility of receiving regular letters, ao
crowded upon her all at once, that it waa a strong effort to
apeak at all.
" No, deareat ; for what was the use of tormenting you with
disagreeable anticipations, when there really might have been
no foundation for them. The last accounts from Samboe, were,
as you kaow, received nearly two years f^o, telling me that
Frederic Wilson was dead, but that hia aon had been received
as his euecessor in the ministry, and as civil guardian of the
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 239
Jaland, witli, if possible, a atUl greater degree of populai-ity than
Ills predecessors, from Ids having been educated in Denmark.
His parents had lived on straitened means to give him superior
advantages, which, as. it proves, he would have been much het-
ter without. Tlie vices lie has acquired have far outrun the
advantages. His example, and that of a band of idle, irregular
spirits who have joined him, has not only scandalized the sim-
ple people but disturbed their homesteads, brought contention
and misery, and in some cases bloodshed ; so that in point of
social and domestic position, I fear they have sunk lower than
when my grandfather first sought the island. The mother of
this unbappy young man has, naturally, perhaps, but weakly,
shiTink from informing against him ; but her brother, the cler-
gyman of Osteroe, has at length taken upon himself to do so,
clearly stating that nothing but personal interference and somfc
months' residence among them will effect a reformation ; and
that the ruin is more to be regretted, as the little island has
been for more than half a century the admiration not only of
its immediate neighbors, but of all who have chanced to harbor
off ita coast. He states, too, that if properly directed and not
exposed to the contagion of large cities, as his brother' has
been, poor "Wilson's younger son, now a boy of eleven, may
become as worthy and judicious a pastor as his father and
grandfather, and so keep the offlee in his family, as my gi'and-
father was so desirous of doing. The question is, how is this
boy to be educated on the island, and whom can I find to take
the ministry meanwhile ? "
"And must your own residence there be veiy long ? " inquired
Mrs. Hamilton, still in that quiet tone, but her lip quivered.
" It depends entirely on whom I can get to accompany . me,
dearest. I must set Mr. Howard and Morton to work to find
me some simple-minded, single-hearted individual, who will"
regard this undertaking in the same missionary spirit as the
elder "Wilson did. If I am happy enough to succeed in this, I
hope a year, or somewhat less, will be the farthest limit of our
separation."
"A yeai'! a whole long year dearest Arthur, must it be sc
very, very long ? "
" "Who tried to persuade Ellen, a fortnight ago, that a year,
even two years, would pass so very quickly?" replied Mr.
Hamilton, trying to smile, and folding his arm fondly round his
wife, he kissed the cheek which had become pale from the
effort to restrain lier feelings. " It is indeed an unexpected
aai a painful trial, and, as is generally the case witli our rebel-
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240 HOME INFLUENCE.
lions spirits, I feel as if it would have been better bome at any
other period than the present. " We bad so portioned out tbLi
year, had so anticipated gratifying Caroline by introducing her
to the so long and so eageriy anticipated pleasures of London
next Janaaxy, that I cannot bear to think of her disappclat
"And our boys, too, they say it is so strange to be without
their fether, even in college term ; what will it be when they
come home for the long vacation, to which we have all so
looked forward ? But this is all weakness, my own dear hus-
band ! forgive me, I am Only rendering your duty more diffi-
cult," she added, raising her bead from his shoulder, and
smiling cheerfully, even while the tears glistened in her eyes.
"1 must try and practise my own lesson, and believe the term
of separation will really pass quickly, interminable as it now
seems. We have been so blessed, so guarded from the bitter
pang of even partial separation for twenly years, that how
dare I murtnur now the trial has come? It is God's pleasure,
dearest Arthur, though it seems hke the work of man, and as
His we can endure it."
" Bless you, my beloved ! you have indeed put a new spirit
in mo by those words," replied her husband, with a fondness,
the more intense from the actual veneration that so largely
mingled with it. "And bitter disappointment as it Is to me to
be from home when our sons return, it is better so, perhaps, for
their company will wile away at least nearly three months of
Mr. aJid Mrs. Hamilton remained some hours together that
morning in earnest conversation. All pf individual regret was
conquered for the sake of the ofber : its expression, at least, not
its feeling ; but they understood each other too well, too fondly,
to need words or complaints to prove to either how intensely
painful was the very thought of separation. To elude the per-
formance of a duty which many persons, unable to enter into
the hope of effecting good, would, no doubt, pronounce Quix-
otic for what could the poor inhabitants of Samboe be to
him? never entered either Mr. or Mra, Hamilton's mind.
He was not one to neglect his immediate duties for distant ones ;
but believed and acted on the belief that both could be united.
His own large estate, its various farms, parishes, and villages,
were so admirably ordered, that he could leave it without the
smallest scrapie in the hands of his wife and 9tewai-d. Though
interested in, and actually assisting in the political movements
of his country, be wwn still, as from his youth he had firmly
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 241
resolved to be, a free, independent Englishman ; bound to no
party, but respected by all; retaining his own principles un-
shalien as a rock, though often and oiten his integrity had been
tried by court bribes and dazzhng offers. And yet, i-are blend-
ing wiA such individual feelings, Arthur Hamilton looked with
candor and kindness on the conduct and prineiples of others,
howaver they might differ from his own, and found excuses for
them, which none others could. That he should give up alt the
comforts, the luxuries, the delights of his peculiarly happy
home, lo encounter several months' sojourn in a bleak, half-
civiUzed island, only in the hope of restoring and insuring moral
and religious improvement to a small colony of human beings,
whose Bole claim upon him was, that they were immortal as
himself, and that they had done a kindness to his grandfather
more than half a century back, was liiely to, and no doubt did,
excite the utmost astonishment in very many circles ; but not a
sneer, not a word seeming to whisper good should be done at
home before sought abroad, could find a moment's resting-plaee
near Arthur Hamilton's name.
For half an hour after Sirs. Hamilton quitted her husband
she remained alone, and when she rejoined her family, though
she might have been a shade paler than her wont, she was as
cheerful in conversation and earnest in manner as usuaL That
evening Mr. Hamilton informed his children and Miss Harcourt
of his intended departure, and consequent compelled change of
plan. Emmeline's burst of sorrow was violent and uncontrolled.
Caroline looked for a minute quite bewildered, and then hasten-
ing to her fatlier threw one arm round his neck, exclaiming, in
a voice of the most affectionate sincerity, "Dear papa, what
shall we do witliout you for such a long tune?"
"My dear child! I thank you for such an affectionate
thought; beUeve me, the idea of your wishes being postponed
has pained me as much as any thing else in this unpleasant
duty."
" My wishes postponed, papa what do you mean ? "
" Have you quite foi^otten our intended plans for next Jan j-
ary, my love? My absence must alter them."
For a moment an expression of bitter disappoiritment clouded
Caroline's open countenance.
"Indeed, papa, I had forgotten it; I only thought of yanr
going away for so many months. It is a great disappointment,
I own, and I dare say 1 ahaU feel it still more when January
comes ; but I am sure parting from you must be a still greater
tria', to mamma, than any such disappointment ought to be to
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i:4a HOME INFLUENCE.
me; aiiJ, indeed, I will try and bear it as uncomplainingly and
cheerfully as s!ie does."
Her fiifhep almost involuntarily drew lier to lils heart, and
Icissed her two Or three times, without speaking; and Cai-ohne
was very glad he did so, for when she looked up again, the
tears that would come at the first thought of her disSppoint-
ment were bravely sent back again ; and she tried to cheer
Emmehne, by assuring her she never could be like her favorite
heroines of roMance, if she behaved so very much like a child;
taking the opportunity when they retired for the night, to say
more seriously
"Dear Emmeline, do try and be as lively as you always
are. I am sure poor marama is suffering very much at the idea
of papa's leaving us, though she will not let us see that she
does, and if you give way so, it will make her more uncorafort-
able stilL"
Emmeline promised lo try ; but her disposition, quite as sus-
ceptible to sorrow as to joy, and not nearly as firm, as her
sister's, rendered the promise very difficult to fulfil. It was
her iirst sorrow; and Mrs. Hamilton watched her with some
anxiety, half fearful that she had been wrong to shield her so
carefully from any thing like grief, if, when it came, she should
prove unequal to its firm and uncomplaining endurance. Ellen
had been out of the room when Mr. Hamilton had flrit spoken
and engaged in soothing Enimeline ; wh n h n d and
the news was communicated to her, he did b ay
thing particular in her mode of receiving B M Hamd
ton was so struck with the expression of h n n win h
as she tried somewhat incoherently to u gre k h
place of its usual ealm, that she looked ah a m te
in hewiiderment; but it passed again, s np y h h
was angry with herself for fancying a g m
Caroline, however, had remarked it too, d h co d h
observing to Miss Harcourt, the first tim h y
" You wiil say I am always fancying something extraordi-
nary, Miss Harcourt; but Ellen certainly did look pleased last
night, when mamma told her of papa's intended departure."
" The expression must have been something extraordinary
for you to rema,rk it at all," replied Miss Harcourt ; nobody
but Mrs. Hamilton, whose penetration is out of the common, can
ever read any thing on Ellen's face."
" And it was for that very reason I looked agiun '; and mamma
noticed it too, and was surprised, though she did not say any
thing'. If she really be pleased she is most ungrateful, and all
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOWE INFLUENCE. 243
iier jrofeBsion of feeling mamma and papa's constant kindness
sheer deceit. I never sliall understand Ellen, I believe ; but I
do hope mamma will never discover that she is not eatactiy that
which her affection believes her."
"Pray do not talk so,. my dear Caroline, or I shall be tempted
to confess that you are giving words to my own feelings. Her
conduct with regard to the diaappearanee of her allowance, the
whoDy unsatisfactory account of its expenditure,^ even every
month, fgr she seems to me to mention many things she has
never had, banish every hopeful feeling, and I dread more than
I can tell you, the very tiling you have expressed. But all this
is very wrong ; we Iiave relieved each other by a mutual ao-
knowledgment, and now let us never i-cvert, even in thought, if
possible, to the subject."
Carohne willingly acquiesced, for it was far from agreeable,
Mr. Hamilton's prepai-ations, meanwhile, rapidly progressed.
He imparted his wishes for a companion willing to remain in
the island, till young Wilson should be prepared for the mi-
nistry, both to Mr. Howard and Mr. Morton, (the latter still re-
maned in his desolate parish, still more isolated in feeling from
the loss of both his parents, and Percy's absence,) and both,
especially Morton, gave him every hope of obtaining the cha-
racter he wanted. His nest inquiry was at Dartmouth for
strong, well-built vessel, fitted to encounter the stonny seaa
between Scotland and Feroe, determining to do all in his power
to provide some means of regular communication between him-
self and tlie beloved inmates of his home. Wick, in Caithness,
was the farthest post town to which letters could be addressed.
Every ten days or fortnight communications were to he sent
there, and the Siren, after conveying him to Feroe, was regu-
larly to ply between Samboe and Wick, bringing from the
latter place to Mr. Hamilton the various letters that had aceu-
mulated there, should unfavorable winds have lengthened the
voyage, and forwarding his through that post to his home. By
this means, he hoped to hear and be heard of regtdarly ; an
intense reUe^ if it really could be so aeeomphshed, to his wife.
As soon as a ship, a competent captain, mate, and crew were
obtained, Mr, Hamilton set off for Oxford and London, wishing
ill the latter flace to see his friend Grahame, and ia the former
fo pass a few days with his sons, who, knowing nothing of his
summons, received him with unbounded delight Their regret^
when they heard the cause of his visit, was as great as their joy
had been. Percy, in a desperate fit of impatience, wished Ihe
little island and all itr xmcems at the botton of the sea, the bsst
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244- HOME INFLUENCE.
place ioT such unruly, disagreeable people ; and lie was only
sobered wben \m father put before him Uiat, though it must bt
a veiy heightened individual disappointment, it was the greatest
comfort to him, to think that they would both be with their
mother and sisters the first few months of his absence. Percy
instantly altered his tone.
" You are quite right, my dear father ; I was veiy selfish not
to think of it. Trust me for making my dearest mother- as
cheerful and has happy as I can. Yoa don't know what a
guardian angel the thought of her love has been to me in tempts
ation ! and as for Bertie, if ever I thought he was studying him-
self ill, and not taking the care of himself he ought, or wanted
him to take exercise and recreation, when he thought me a great
bore, the word mother, made liim yield at once."
And Herbert's kindhng eye and cheek bore testimony to the
truth of bis brother's words. His only feeling and exdamation
had been, if he might but accompany his father, and save him
all the trouble he could ; allowing, however, its impossibility,
when the circumstances of his still dehcate health and the
necessity for uninterrupted study, were placed before him.
That visit to Oxford was a proud one for Mr. Hamilton.
His sons held that place in the estimation of the professora,
superiors, and their fellow-collegians, which their early influ-
ences bad promised, and which, as the sons of Arthur Hamilton,
seemed naturally their own. Percy could so combine firmness
in principle, unbending i-eetitude in conduct, with such a spirit
of fun and enjoyment, as rendered him the prime mover of all
sports at Oxford, as he liad been at Oakwood; and Herbert,
though so gentle and retiring as (until Percy's spirit was roused
to shield him) gained him many nicknames and many petty
annoyances, silently and insensibly won his way, and so bore
with the thoughtless, the mirthful, and even the faulty, as at
length to gain him the privilege of being allowed to do just as
he liked, and win, by his extraordinary talents, the admiration
and love of all the professors with whom he was thrown.
Morton had promised to introduce a person to Mr. Kamihon
on his return from Oxford, who, if approved of, would be his
willing, his eager assistant, and gladly remain in the island,
attending to all that was required in its superintendence, and in
the education of young Wilson, till he was old enough and pro-
perly fitted to take his father's place. Great, then, was Mr.
Hamilton's disappqintment, when Morton entered his hbrary,
according to appointment, but quil alone. Still greater waa
his astonishment, when he found it was Morton himself, thus
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME LN'FLUENCE. 245
eagerly desiioas to become his companio.t, urging liia wishes,
his motives, Mr. Howard's sanction, with, such earnestness, such
eriigle-mindednesa of purpose, that every objection which, for
lli[orU)n's own sake, Mr. Hamilton so stranuously brought for-
ward, was overi'uled ; and after a lengthened iaterview, matters
were arranged to tie entire satisfaction of both parties. The
idea of the companionship and aid of such a friend as Morton
bringing as great a relief to both Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, as
their acquiescence filled flie whole heart of the young mission-
ary with the most unbounded gratitude and joy. He suggested
many little things, which, in the agitation of his hasty sum-
mons, had escaped his fKenda, and his whole being seemed
transformed from despondency and lisllsssnesa to energy and
hope. Engrossed as he was, Mr. Hamilton's usual thought for
others had not deserted him, and he remarked that one of his
household, Eobert Langford, so often mentioned, appeared lo
linger in the library after morning and evening service, as if
anxious to speak to himi, but failing in courage so to do. He
thought, too, that the young man seemed quite altered, dis-
pirited, gloomy, almost wretched at times, instead of the mirth-
ful, happy being he had been before. Determining to give
him an opportunity of speaking before his departure, if he
wished it, Mr. Hamilton summoned him to arrange, write a
list, and pack some books, which Morton had selected to take
with him. For some time Eobert pursued his work in perse-
vering silence, but at length fixed his eyes on his master with
such beseeching earnestness, that Mr. Hamilton inquired the
matter at once. It was some aime before the young man couid
Buf&ciently compose himself to speak with any coherency, but
at last Mr. Hamilton gathered the following detfuls.
About five weeks previous (the first day of June) he had
been intrusted, as he had very often before been, by his master,
with certain papers and law articles to convey to Plymouth,
and with a poiiet-book; containing thirty pounds, in two ten
and two five pound notes, which he had orders to leave at some
poor though respectable fttmiliea, whom Mr. Hamiltan waa in
the habit of occasionally assisting, though they were out of his
own domains. The morning he was to have started on this ex-
pedition a cousin, whom he had always regarded as a brother,
came unexpectedly to see him. He had just arrived at Ply-
mouth from a four years' residence with his regiment in Ireland ;
and Robert's glee was so great as to require reiterated com-
mands from the steward to take care of the papers, and not
Bfay at his mother's cottage, where he was to take his cousin,
12
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
1?46 HOHK INFLllEXCE.
later than tJie afternoon. He liagereil s long before he set
off fi-om Oakwood, that ho gathered up all the papers as quickly
as he could, forgot ids' principal charge, so far at least as not
to look to the secure fastening of the pocket-book,' and hastened
with his cousin through the Brushwood and glade we have be-
fore mentioned, to his mother's cotlage. It was very hot, and
the young men, heated and in eager conversation, took off their
coats, threw them loosely over their anus, and proceeded on
their walk without them, much too engrossed with each other
to be aware thai, as they carried their coats, it was tlie easiest
and most natural thing possible for all the smaller contents of
their pockets to fall out, and if not missed directly, from the
winding and rii^ed wood path, not likely to be found again.
A draught of cider and half an hour's rest at Mvs. Lang-
ford's cott^;e sufficiently revived Robert to resume his coat;
he satisfied himself that hia packet of papers was secure, and,
as he imagined from the feel of another pocket, the pocket-
book also.
"What, then, was his consternation, when he approached the
flrst house at which he was to leave ten pounds of the money,
about twenty miles from Oakwood, to discover that the pockelr
book was gone !. and that which, by ifs feel, he believed to have
been it^ an old card-case, . that bis youpg master Percy had
laugliingly thrown at him one day after failing in his endeavor
to eittblaaon it, the sticky materials he had used causing it to
adhere to whatever it touched, and so preserving it in Eebert's
pocket, when almost all the other things had fallen out. He
racked his memory in vain as to what could have become of
it, convinced that he had not left' it at Oakwood, as he flrst
sincerely wished that he had. Two or three other things had
also disappeared, and it suddenly flashed upon him, that when
caiTying his coat over his arm they must have fallen out. He
cursed his thoughtlessness again and again, and would have re-
traced his steps immediately, but the papers with which he was
intrusted had to be dehvered at Plymouth by a certain hour,
and he could not do it. The intense heat of the day gave
place in the evening to a tremendous stom of thunder and
lightning, wind, and very heavy raiu,'which last continued u'a-
abated through the night. He returned home, or rather to l.ia
mother's cottage, the next day, in a state of mind little re-
moved from distraction ; searching the path he had traversed
with his cousin in every direction, but only succeeded in finding
some worthless trifles, aiid the pocket-book itself, but open and
empty ; biif, at a little distance from it one five pound note. In
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HOME INFLUENCE. 247
Ut instanl lie remembered that in his hurty he had failed to see
to its proper fastCLingj if he Lad, all would have been right,
for the wiud and rain would hardly have had power to open it,
and diaperae its contents. Hour after hour he passed in the
vain search for the remainder ; the storm had rendered the path
more intricate ; the ground was slimy, and quantities of dn'ed
sticks and broken branches and leaves almost covered it. He
told his tale to his mother in the deepest distress ; what was he
to do ? She advised him to tell the steward the whole story,
and to request him to keep baek the sum she was in the habil
of receiving quarterly, till the whole amount could he repaid.
Robert obeyed her, but with most paiiiful reluctance, though
even then he did cot imagine aJI the misery his carelessness
would entail upon him. Morris, as was natural, was exceed-
ingly displeased, and not only regroved him very severely, hut
let fall suspicions as to the ti'uth of his story ; he knew nothing
of his cousin, he said, and could not gay what company he might
have been, led into. If the notes had fallen out of his pocket
during his walk, they must be found j it was all nonsense that
the wind and rain could so have scattered and annihilated them,
as to remove all traee of them. He would not say any thing to
his master, because it would only annoy him, and the charities
he would give liimself, not from Mrs. Langford's allowance, but
from Eobert'a own wages, which he should certainly stop till
the whole sum was pid ; he should take care how lie intrusted
such a responsible office to him again.
Eobert was at first iiidignant, and violent in his protestations
of the truth of his story ; but as it got wind in the sorvants'
hall, as he found himself suspected and shunned by almost all,
as days merged into weeks, and there was no trace of the notes,
and Morris and Ellis both united in declaring that, as no
strangers passed through that part of the park, if found they
must have been heard of, the young man sunk into a state of
the most gloomy despondency, longing to tell his kind master
the whole tale, and yet, naturally enough, shrinking from the
head of hia suspicion of his honesty, as more terrible than all
the rest.
But Mr. Hamilton did not suspect him, and so assured him
tt hb firm belief in his truth and innocence, that it was with
great difficulty poor Eobert refrained from throwing himself at
hia feet to pour forth Lis gratitude. He was so severely pun-
ished from hia heedlessness, that his master would not say much
about if, and soon after dismissing him, summoned Morris, and
talked with him some time on the subjecl, declaring he would
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2i8 HOME rSFLUENCE.
as soon suspect Lis own son of dishonesty as the boy wTio had
grown up under bis own eye from infancy, and the son of such
a mother. li was very distressing foe Mrs. langford certainly,
the old steward allowed, and she looked sad enough ; but it was
o use, hp. had tried hard enough to prevent his suspicions, but
they woii d come. None but the servants and the woodmen
and gardeners went that path, and if the notes had. been drop-
ped there, they must have been found ; and it. was a very hard
thing for the other servants, as none knew who might he sus-
pected of appropriating them. His master was much loo kind
in his opinions, but he must forgive him if he continued to keep
a sharp look out after the young man. Morris was very old,
and somewhat opmioaated; so all that his master could suc-
ceed in, was to insist ihat he should only keep back half of
Eobert's wages, till the sum was paid.
"Take away the whole, and if he have been unfortunately
led into temptation, whichi do not believe he has, you expose
him to it again," was his judicious command. " It is aU right
lie should return it, even though lost only by carelessness ; hut
I will not have him put to such straits for want of a little
money, as must be the case if you deprive him of all his wages ;
and now, my good Morris, if you cannot in conscience repeat
my firm opinion of this lad's innocence to the servants, I must
do it myself."
And that very evening after prayers, when the whole house-
hold were assembled in the library, Mr. Hamilton addressed
them simply and briefly, mentioning that Robert Langford had
himself told his tale to him , and that it was his own opinion, and
that of their mistress, that he did not deserve the suspicions at-
tached to him, and that his fellow-servants would all he acting
more charitably and religiously if they believed his story, uniil
they had had. some strong proof to the contrary; he could not,
of course, interfere with private opinion; he could only tell
them his own and their lady's. He acknowledged it was a very
unpleasant occurrence, but he begged them all to dismiss the
idea that suspicion could be attached to either of them ; he felt
too convinced that had, any one of his household chanced to find
the missing notes, they would at once have mentioned it to the
steward or housekeeper, more especially since Robert's loss had
been known among, them only a few days after it had occurred.
Appropriation, he need not teil them, in such a case was theii,
and of that sin, he was perfectly certain, not one present would
be gu'Jty. He allowed that it would be much more satisfactory
to have the tangible proof of Robert's innocence by discoverina
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HOME INFLUENCE. -'49
3ome trace of them, but it was not unlikely the heavy wind and
ram had destroyed the thin material of the notes cr home them
into the brambly brushwood, where it waa scarcoly possible
th !y could be found.
If the attention of Mrs. Hamilton, her daughters, and Miss
Hiircourt had not teen naturally riveted oa Mr. Hamilton's ad-
dress, and its effect on tJie servants, especially Kohert, whose
emotion was almost overpowering, they must have remarked
that Ellen had shrunk into the shade of the heavy curtains fall-
ing by one of the windows, and had unconsciously grasped the
oaken back of one of the massive chairs ; lipSj cheek, and brow,
white and rigid as sculptured marble. An almost supernatural
effort alone enabled her io master the crushing agony, sending
the blood up to her cheeks with such returning violence, that
when she wished her aunt and uncle good night, she might have
been thought more flushed than pale; hut it passed unnoticed
Mis. Hamilton too much annoyed on Mrs. Langford's account
to think at that moment of any thing but how she could best set
the poor mother's heart at rest. It was very evident that though
some of the domestics, after their master's address, came up to
Robert, shook hands with him and begged his pardon, the greatei
number still aided with Morris, and retsuned their own less fa-
vorable opinion, and she could weD imagine what Mrs. Lang-
ford's sufferings must be. It only wanted five days to that
fixed for Mr. Hamilton's departure, wind permitting; and there
were so many things to think of and do foY him, that his family
could have little thought of any thing else ; but Mrs, Hamilton
assured her husband she would leave no means uafiied to pi-pve
Robert's innocence.
For nearly an Lour that same night did Ellen, after her
attendant had left her, sit ci-ouched by the side of her bed as
if some bolt had strack and withered her as she eat. One word
alone sounded and resounde^ in her ears; she had known it,
pronounced it to be such to herself numbers of times, but it had
never mocked and maddened her as when spoken in her uncle's
voice, and in his-deepest, most expressive tone r" theft!" And
she was the guilty one and she must see the innocent bear-
ing the penalty of her crime, suspicion, dislike, avoidance, for
she dared not breathe the truth. Again came the wild, almost
desperate, resolve to seek Mrs. Hamilton that very moment,
avow herself the criminal, implore her to take back every
trinket belonging to her, k replace it, and do with her what she
would. But if she did confess, and so draw attention to her,
how could she keep her brother's secret? Could she have firm-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
230 HOME INFLUENCE.
[less lo bear all, rather than betray it? Wlmt proof of liei
inwiii'd wretctedness and remorse could there be in the mere
conf jKsion of appropriation, when the use to whicli she had ap-
pliel that money and all concerning it, even to the day it was
found, must be withheld, lest it should in any way be connected
with her letter fo her brother. She must h,e silent; and the
only prayer which, night and morning, ay, almost eveiy hour,
rose from that young heart, was for death, ere it was too lafe
for God's foi^iveness.
CHAPTER IV.
THE BKOKEN DESK.
The many secret wishes for an unfavorable wind, that Mr.
Hamilton might stay at Oakwood still a little longer, were not
granted, and he left his family the very day he had fixed, the
14lh of July, just three weeks after his summons, and about
ten days before his sons were expected home. "Without him
Oakwood was strange indeed, but with the exception of Emme-
Une, all seemed determined to conquer the sadness and anxiety,
which the departure of one so beloved, naturally occasioned.
Emmeline was so unused to any thing like personal sorrow,
that she rather seemed to luxuriate in its indulgence.
" Do you wish to both disappoint and displease me, my dear
Emmeline ? " her mother said, one day, about a week after her
husband had gone, as she entered the music-room, expecting to
find her daughter at the harp, but perceiving her instead, lisl
less and dispirited, on the sofa. "Indeed, you will do both, if
you give way to this most uncalled-for gloom."
" Uncalled for," replied Emmehne, almost pettishly,
" Quite uncalled for, to the extent in which you are indulg
ing it ; and even if called for, do you not think you would be
acting more correctly, if you thought more of others than your-
self, and tried to become your own cheerful self for their sakes ?
It is the first time you have ever given me cause to suspect
you of selfishness ; and I am disappointed."
"Selfishness, mamma; and I do hate the thought of it so
Am I selfish ? " she repeated, her voice faltering, and her eyea
filling fast with tears.
" I hope nof, my iove ; but if you do not try to shake ofi'
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HOME jnflucscl;. 2oI
this depression, we must believe you to be so. Yiur fatliei's
absaaco is a still greatei- tviaJ to Caroline than it is lo you, for
it compels a very bitter disappointment, as well as tbe loss of
his society' ; and yet, tliough she feels both deeply, she has ex-
erted herself moi'e than I ever saw her do befoi-e, and so proves,
more than any words or tears could do, how much, slio loves
both him and me."
" And do you think 1 iove yoa both, less thaii she does ? "
loplied Emmeline, now faii'ly sobbing.
" No, dearest ; but I want you to prove it in the same admi-
rable manner. Do you think I do not feel your father's ab- _
eeace, Emmeline ? but would you like to see me as sad and
changed as you are ? "
Emmehne looked up in' her faee, for there was something ir.
the tone that appealed to her better feelings at once. Throw-
ing her arms round her, she sobbed
" Dear mamma, do forgive me. I see now I have been very
selfish and very weak, but I never, never can be as firm and
solf-eootrolled as you and Caroline are."
" Do not say npver, love, or you will never try to be so. I
am quite suie jou nould not'like to be one of those weak, self-
ish dlar^efera, who lay all their faults, and all the mischief
then faults produce, oa a supposed impossibility to become like
others I know your disposition is naturally less strong and
firm thin youi sister's, but it is more elastic, and still more
joyous , and so had you not too weakly encouraged your very
natui-al sorrow, you would have been enabled to throw it off,
and in the conrfort such an exeitioa would have brought to us,
fully recompensed yourself."
" And if I do try now ? "
"I shall be quite satisfied, dearest ; though I fear you will
find it more diflicult than.had you tried a few days ago. Con-
fess that I am right. Did you not, after the first two or- three
days, feel that you could have been cheerful again, at least at
times, but that you fancied you had not felt sorry enough, and
so increased both sorrow and anxiety by determinedly dwell-
ing on 'them, instead of seeking some pui'suit ? "
" Dear roamma, shall I never be able to hide a feeling from
you ? " answered Emmeline, so astonished, that her tears lialf
dried. " I did not know I felt so myself till you put it before
me, and now I know that I really did. Was it very wrong ? "
'I wiil answer your question by another, love. Did you
dad such pertinacious indulgence of gloom help you to bring
the object of your regret and anxiety, and of your own grieS
before your Heavenly Father ? "
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
252 HOME JNFLUENCB.
Emnieline hesitated, but only for a minute, tiien answered,
with a crimson blush
" No, mamma ; I could not pray to God to protet deai
pap J, or to ^Te lue His blessing, half as earnestly and believ-
tagly as whea I was happier ; the more I indulged in gloomy
thoughts, the more difficulty I had to turn them to prayer, aud
the last few days, I fear, I have not fevea tried."
" Then, dearest, is it necessary for me to answer your former
question ? I Bee by that cceiscious look that it is not. You have
always trusted my experience and affection, ray Emmeline,
ti-ust them now, and try my plan. Think of your dear father,
whom you cannot love too well, or' whose craapelled absence
really regret too much ; but so think of him, as to pray conti-
nually in spirit to your gracioua Grod, to have him always iu
His holy keeping, either on sea or-laod, in storm or calm, and
BO prosper his undertaldng, as t6 permit his return to us still
sooner than we at present expect. The very constant prayer
for this, will make you rest secure and happy in the belief that
eur God is with him wherever he is, as He is with us, and so
^ve you cheerfuliiess and courage to attend to your daily duties,
and conquer any thing hke too selfish sorrow. Will you try
this, love, even if it be more difficult now than it would have
been a few days ago ? "
"I will indeed, mamma," and she raised her head from her
mother's shoulder, and tried to smUe, "When you first ad-
dressed me to-day, I thought you were almost harsh, and so
cold so you see even there I was thinking wrong and now
I am glad, oh, so glad, you did speak to me I "
" And I know who will be glad too, if I have prevented his
having a Niobe for his Tiny, instead of the Euphrosyne, which
I believe he sometimes calls you. I thought there was one par-
ticular duet that Percy is to be so charmed "with, Emmy. Sup-
pose you try it now." And, her teai-s all checked, her most
unusual gloom dispersed, Emmeline obeyed with alacrity, and
finding, when she had once begun, so many things to get perfect
for the gratification of her brothers, that nearly three hours
slipped away quite uneoiKciously ; and when Caroline returned
from a walk, she was astonished at the change in her sister, and
touched by the affectionate selt-rcproaoh with wliich Emmeline,
looking up in her face, exclaimed
" Dear Caroline, I have been so pettish and so cross to you
since papa left, that I am sure yon must be quite tired of me i
but I am going U be really a heroine now, and not a sham
sentimental one ; and bear the pain of papa's absence as bravelj
as you do."
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HOME INFLUENCE. 253
And sLe did so ; though at first it was, aa her molner had
wiinied her, very difficult to compel the requisite exertion,
wi-.ieh for employment and cheerfulness, was now needed ; but
when the will ia right, there is little fear of feiiure.
As each day passed, so quickly merging into weeks, that five
had now slipped away since that fatal letter had been sent to
Edward, the difficulty to do as she had intended, entreat Mrs.
Langford to dispose of her trinkets and watch, became to Ellen,
either in reality or seeming, more and more difficult. Her
illness had confined her to her room for nearly a week, and
when she was allowed to take the air, the statfl of nervous de-
bility to which it had reduced her, of course prevented her ever
being left alone. The day after Mr. Hamilton's appeal to hia
domestics, she had made a desperate attempt, by asking per-
mission to be the bearer of a message from her aunt to the
widow ; and as the girls were often allowed and encouraged to
visit their nurse, the request was grafted without any surprise,
though to the very last moment she feared one of her cousins
or Miss Harcourt would offer to accompany her. They were
all, however, too occupied with and for Mr. Hamilton, and she
sought the cottage, and there, with such very evident mental
agony, besought Mrs. Langford to promise her secrecy and aid,
that the widow, very much against her conscience, was won over
to accede. She was in most pressing want of money, she urged,
and dared not appeal to her aunt. Not daring to say the whole
amount which she so urgently required at once, she had only
brought with her the antique gold cross and two or three smaller
ornaments, which had been among her mother's trinkets, and a
gold locket Percy had given her. Mrs. Langford was painfully
startled. She had no idea her promise comprised acquiescence
and assistance in any matter so very wrong and mysterious aa
this ; and she tried every ai^ument, every peranaaion, to prevail
on EUen to confide all her difficulties to Mrs. Hamilton, urging
that if even she had done wrong, it could only call for tempo-
rary displeasure, whereas the mischief of her present proceed-
ing might never come to an end, and must be discovered at last ;
but Ellen was inexorable, though evidently quite as miserable
s she was firm, and Mrs. Langford had too high an idea of the
solemn nature of a pledged word to draw back, or think 0/
betraying her. She said that, of course, it might be some weeks
before she could succeed in disposmg of them all 5 as to offer
them all .together, or eveat one place, woull be exposing hev-
)eif to the mwit unpleasant si
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
254 HOv;. i:fluf.kcf,.
OnB step was thus gained, but nearly a foi-tiiight had passed,
nnd elie heai'd nothing from the widow.
" "Will they never come ? " esdaimed Emiaeline, in mirthfuj
impatience, one evening, about four days after her conversation
with her mother ; " it must be past the hour Percy named,"
" It still wants half an hour," replied Mrs. Hamilton ; add'
ing, " that unfortunate drawing, when will it succeed in ob-
taiaing your undivided attention?"
".Certainly not this evening, mamma; the only drawing I
feel inclined for, ia a sketch of my two brothers, if they would
oniy have the kindness to sit by me."
"Poor Percy," observed Caroline, diyly; "if you ai-e to be
as restless as you have been the last hour, Emmeline, he would
not Je very much Mattered by hia portrait."
"Now that is very spiteful of you, Caroline, and all because
I do not happen to be so quiet and sober as you are; though I
am sure all tliis morning, that mamma thought by your unusu-
ally long absence that you were having a most persevering
practice, you were only collecting all' Percy's and Herbert's
favorite songs and pieces, and playing them over, instead of
"Why, it only proves that your thoughts are quite as much
occupied by them as. mine are, though you have so disagreeably
read, studied, worked, just as usual, to make one believe you
neither liought nor cared any tiling about them,"
"And so, because Caroline can control even joyous anticipa-
tion, she ia to be thought void of feeling, Emmy, I really can
pronounce no such judgment ; so, though she may have settled
to her usual purauils, and you have literally done nothing at all
to-day, I will not condemn her as loving her brothers less."
" But you will condemn me as an idle, unsteady, hair-brained
girl," replied Emmeline, kneeling on the ottoman at her mother's
feet, and looking archly and fondly in her face. Then do let
me have a fellow-sufferer, for I cannot stand condemnation
alone. Ellen, do put away that everlasting sketch, and be idle
and unsteady, too I "
"It won't do, Emmy; EUen has been so pereeveringly in-
dustrious since her illness, fiat I should rather condemn her for
too much application than too great idleness. But you really
liave been stooping too long tliis warm evening, my love," she
added, observing, as Ellen, it seemed almost involuntarily,
looked up at her cousin's woi-ds, that her cheeks were flushed
almost painfully. "Oblige Emmeline this once, end be as idle
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HOME ISFLUKKCE. SSiJ
as she is; come and talk to me, I have Ecai'cely heard a wortl
from yo.i io-day; you have been more silent than ever, I think,
iiiuK yuur uncle left us ; but I must have no gloom to greet
your cousins, Ellen."
There was no rejomdei- to these kind and playful words.
Ellen did indeed piit aside her di'aning, but instead of taking a
teat near her aunt, which in former days slie would have been
only too happy to do, she walked to the farthest window, and
ensconcing herself in its deep recess, seemed determined to hold
communion widi no one. Miss Harcourt was so indignant as
scarcely to be able to contain its expression. Caroline looked
astonished and provoked. Emmehne was much too busy in
flying from window to window, to think of any thing else but
her brothers. Mrs. Hajnilton was more grieved and hurt than
Ellen had scarcely ever made her feel. Several times before, in
the last month, she had fancied there was something unusual in
her manner; but the many anxieties and thoughts which had'
engrossed her since her husband's summons and his departure,
had prevented any thing, tiH that evening, but momentary sur-
prise. Emnieline's exclamation that she was quite sure she
heai-d the trampling of horses, arid that it must he Percy, by
the headlong way he rode, ' prevented any remark, and bi'ought
them ail to the window ; and she was right, for in a few minutes
a horseman emerged from some distant ti'ees, tirging his horse
to its utmost speed, waving his cap in all sorts of mirthful gesti-
culation over his head, long before he could be quite sure that
there was anybody to see him.. Another minute, aiid he had
flung the reins to Eobert, with a laughing greeting, and spring-
ing up the long flight of steps in two bounds, was in the sitting-
room and in the arms of his mother, before either of his family
imagined be could have had even time to dismount.
"Herbert?" was the first word Mrs, Hamilton's quivering lip
could speak,
" Is quite well, my dearest mother, and not five minutes' ride
behind me. The villagers would flock' round us, with such an
hurrah, I thought you must have heard it here ; so I lefl^ Bertie
to play the agreeable, and promised to see them to-morrow,
and galloped on here, for you know the day we left, I vowed
that the first-born of my mother should have her first kiss."
" Stfll the same, Percy -~r not sobered yet, my boy ? " said his
mother, looking at him with a proud smile ; for while the tone
and manner were still the eager, fresh-feeling boy, the face and
dgure were that of the fine-giiDwing, noble-looking man.
"Sobered! why, mother, J never iniord to be," he answered.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
256 HOME rSFLUESCE.
joyously as iie alternately embraced Lis sisters, Miaa Harcourt,
and Elitin, who, fearing to attract notice, had emerged from htsr
hidiBg-pl^e ; " if the venerable towers of that most wise and
learned town, Oxford, and all the grave lectures and Iig faces
of sage professors have failed to tame me, there can be no hope
for my sobriety; but here comes Herbert, actually going it
almost as fest as I did. Well done, my boy 1 Mother, that
is all your doing ; he feels your infiuence at this distance.
Why, all the Oxonians would fancy the colleges must be tuna-
bling about their ears, if they saw the gentle, studious, steady
Herbert Hamilfon riding at such a rate." He entered almost
as his brother spoke ; and though less boisterous, the intense
delight it was to him to look in his mother's face again, lo be
surrounded by all ho loved, was as visible as Percy's ; and
deep was the thankfulness of Mrs. Hamilton's ever ansioua
heart, as she saw him looking so well so much stronger than
in his boyhood. The j6y tJ that evening, and of very many
succeeding days, was, indeed, great; though many to whom
the sanctity and bliss of domestic affection are unknown, might
fancy there was little to call for it ; but to the inmates of Oak-
wood it was real happiness to hear Percy's wild laugh and his
inexhaustible stories, calling forth the same mirth from hi?
hearers the very sound of his ever-bounding step, and his
Doisterous career from room to room, to vbit, he declared, and
rouse all the bogies and spirits that must have slept while he
was away : Herbert's quieter but equal interest in all that had
been done, studied, read, even thought and felt, in his absence :
the pride and deUght of both in the accounts of Edward, Percy
insisting that to have such a gallant fellow of a brother ought
to make Ellen as lively and happy as Emmeline, who was
blessed nearly in the same measure looking so excessively
mischievous as he spoke, that, though hia sister did not at first
understsUid the inference, it was speedily discovered, and called
for a laughing attack on his outrageous self-conceit. Herbert
more earnestly regretted to see Eilen looking as sad and pale
as when she was quite a little girl, ajiii took upon himself
gently to reproach her for not being, or, at least, trying to make
herself more cheerful, when she had so many blessings around
her, and was so superlatively happy in having such a brave
and noble-hearted brother. If he did not understand her man-
ner as he spoke, both he and the .less observant Percy were
destined to be still more puzzled and grieved as a few weeks
passed, and they at first fancied and then were quite sure that
she was comp'etcly altered, even in her manner to their mother
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME ISfLUENCB. 25*
Instead of being^o gentle, so submissive, so quietly happy to
iesej-ve tiie smallest sign of approval from Mrs. Hamilton, she
now seemed completely to shrink from her, either in fear, or
that she no longer cared either to please or to obey her. By
imperceptible, but sure degrees, this painful conviction pressed
itself on the minds of the whole party, even to the light-hearted,
unsuspicious Emmeline, to whom it was so utterly incompre-
hensible, that she declared it must be all femcy, and that they
were all so happy that their headd must be a little turned.
" Even mamma's ! " observed Caroline, dryly.
" No ; but she is the only sensible person among us, for she
has not said any thing about it^ and, therefore, I dare say does
not even see that which we are making such a wonder about."
" I do not agree with you, for I rather think she has bofli
seen and felt it before either of us, and that because it so
grieves and perplexes her, she cannot speculate or even speak
about it as we- do. Time will explain it, I suppose, but it is
very disagreeable."
It was, indeed, no fancy; but little could these young ob-
servers, or even Mrs. Hamilton, suspect that which was matter
of speculation or grief to them, was- almost madness in its agony
of torture to EUen ; who, as weeks passed, and but very trifling
returns for her trinkets were made her by Mrs. Langford, felt
aa if her brain must fail before she could indeed accomplish her
still ardently desired plan, and give back the missing sum ti
Robert, without calhng suspicion on herself. She felt to her-
self as changed as she appeared to those (hat observed her; a
black impenetrable pall seemed to have enveloped hor heart
and mind, closing up both, even from those affections, those
pursuits, so dear to her before. She longed for some change
from the dense impenetrable fog, even if it were some heavy
blow tangible suffering of the fiercest kind was prayed for,
rather than the stagnation which caused her to move, act, and
speak as if under some fatal spell, and look with such terror on
the relation she had so loved, that even to be banished from
her presence she imagined would be less agony, than to asso-
ciate with her, as the miserable, guilty being she had becoroe.
Mrs. Hamilton watched and was ajixious, but she kept both
her observations and anxiety to herself, for she would not throw
even a temporary cloud over the happiness of her children. A
fortnight after the young men's arrivsd, letters came most unex-
pectedly from Mr. Hainilton, dated twelve days after he had
Isft, and brought by a Scottish trader whom they had encoun-
leied near the Shetir.nd Isles, and who had faithfully forwnrded
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
SB8 HOME INFLUENCE.
Hien. from Edinburgh, aa he had promised. The voyage hail
been most dchghtful, and they hoped to reach Feroein another
week. He wrote in the highest terms of Morton; the comforl
of such companionship, and the intrinsic worth of his character,
which could never be known, until so closely thrown together,
" I may thank our Percy for this excellent friend," he wrote.
" He tells me his brave and honest avowal of those verses',
which had given him so much pain, attracted him more toward
me and mine, than even my own efforts to obtain his friendship.
Percy little thought when he so conquered himself the help he
would give his father so little do we know to what hidden
good, the straightforwao'd, honest performance of a duty, how-
ever painful, may lead."
" My father should thank you, mother, not me," was Percy's
rejoinder, with a flushed cheek and eye sparkling with anima-
tion, as his mother read the passage to him.
" No such thing, Percy; 1 will not have yon give me all the
merit of your good deeds. I did but try to guide you, my boy ;
neither the disposition to receive, nor tlie fruit springing from
the seeds I planted, is from me."
" They are, mother, more than you are in the least awari,
of! " rephed, he, with even more than his usual impetuosity,
for they happened to be quite alone ; " I thought I knew all
your worth before I went to Oxford, but I have mingled with
the world now ; I have been a silent listener and observer of
such sentiments, such actions, as I know would naturally have
been mine, and though in themselves perhaps of little moment,
saw they led to irregularity, laxity of principle and conduct,
which now I cannot feet as other than actual guilt; and whal
saved me from the same ? The principle which from my in-
fancy you taught. I have questioned, led on in conversation,
these young men to speak of theii boyhood w.d their homes,
and there were none guided, loved as I was ; uono whose pa-
rents had so blended firmness with indulgence, as while my
wild, free spirits were unchecked, prevented the ascendency of
evil. I could not do as they did. Mother! love yo* more,
perhaps, I cannot, but every time I join the world, fresh from
this home sanctuary, I must bless and venerate you more I To
walk through this world with any degree of security, man nmsi
have prindple based on the highest source ; and that principle
can only be instilled by the constant example of a mother and
the associations of a home!" Mrs. Hamilton could not an-
swer, but a very unusual sign of weakness with her tears
of tie most intense happiness poured down on the cheek of hei
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME JNt'LUENCE, 269
(on. as in his impecaosity he kuelt before ber, and ended bis
very unusually grave appe^ by tbe same bvirig caresses he
was wont to lavish on her, in his infancy and boyhood.
The letters from Mr, Hamilton, of course, greatly, increased
the general hilai'ity, and the arrival of Mr. GrahaJne'a family
about the same time, added fresh zest to youthful enjoyment.
In the few months she spent at Moorlands, Annie actually eon-
descended to tie agreeeble. Percy, and some of. Percy's boy-
ish friends, now young men, as himself, were quite different to
her usual society, and as she very well knew the only way to
win Percy's even casual notice was to throw off her affectation
and superciliousness as much aa possible, she would do so, and
be pleasing to ao extent that surprised Mrs. Hamilton, who,
always inclined to judge kindly, hoped more regarding Annie
than she had done yet. Little could her pure mind conceive
that, in addition to the pleasure of flirting with Percy, Annie
acted in this manner actually to throw her off her guard, and so
give her a wider field for her machinations when Caroline
should enter the London world ; a time to which, from hei
thirteenth year, she had secretly looked as the opportunity to
make Caroline so conduct herself, as ffl cover her mother with
shame and misery, and bring her floe plans of education to
failure and contempt.
Mrs. Greville and Mary were also constantly at the Hall, or
having their friends with them ; Herbert and Mary advandng
in words or feelings not much farther than they had ever done
as boy and gii'l, but still feehng and acknowledging to theiv
mutual mothers thai, neiel to them, they loved each other bettoi
than ail the world, and enjoyed, each other's society more than
any other pleasure which life could offer. Excursions by land
or water, sometimes on horseback, sometimes in the carriages,
constant little family reunions, either at Oakwood, Moorlands,
or Gtreville Manor, passed days and evenings most delightfully,
to al! but EUen, who did not dare stay at home as often as in-
clination prompted, and whose foroed gayety, when in society,
did but inci-ease the inward torture when alone. Mrs. Hamil-
ton had as yet'refrained from speaking to her still trying to
believe she must be mistaken, and there really was nothing
strange about her. One morning, however, about a month
after the young men had been at home, her attention was un-
avoidably arrested by hearing Percy gayly ask his cousin
"Nelly, Tiny wrote me such a description of your birthday
watch, that I quite forgot, I have been dying to see it all the
time I have been at home; show it me now, there's a dear; il
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iSfiO HOME INFLUENCE.
cmmot be mucsh use to you, IhtU's certain, for I have neT er seeii
you tali e it from ita hiding-place."
Ellen answered, almost inarticulately, it ivas not in her power
lo show it him.
"Not in your power ! You must be dreaming, Neli, aa I think
jou are very often now. Why, what do you wear that chain,
and ^eal and key for, if you have not your watch on too?"
" Where is your watch, EUen ? and why, if you are not weai--
ing it, do you make us suppose you are?" interrupted Mrs.
Hamilton, startled out of all idea that Elien was changed only
Ellen was silent, and to Percy's imagination, so sullenly and
insolently so, that he became indignant.
" Did you hear my mother speak to you, Elien ? Wliy don't
"Because 1 thought my watch was my own to do what I
liked with, to wear or to put away," was the reply; over nei-
ther words nor lone of which, had she at tliat Bjoment any con-
trol, for in her agoniaed terror, she did not in the least know
what she said.
"ilow dare you answer so, Ellen? X^eave the room, or ask
my mother's pardon at once," replied Percy, his eyes flashing
wijh such unusual anger, that it terrified her still more, and
under the same kind of spell she was turning to obey him, with-
out attempting the apology he demanded.
"Stay, Ellea; this extraordinary conduct must not go on any
longer without notice on my part. I have borne with it, 1 fear,
too long already. Leave us, my dear Percy ; I would rather
speak with your coosin alone."
"I fear it wiU be useless, mother; what has come over Ellen
I easinol imagine, but I never saw such an incomprehensible
change in my life."
He departed, unconscious that Ellen, who was near the door
Iransflied at her aunt's words, made a rapid movement as to
catch hold of his arm, and that the words, "Do not go, Percy,
for pity's sake ! " trembled on her pale lips, but they emitted no
sound.
What passed in the interview, which lasted move than an
hour, no one knew; but to the watchful eyes of her affecfionate
children, there were traces of very unusual disturbance on Mrs.
Hamilton's expressive countenance when she rejoined them;
and the dark rim round Ellen's eyes, the deadly pallor of hec
cheeks and lips seemed to denote that it had not been deficient
in suffering lo her; tliough not one sign of penitence, ono word
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
eOJlE INFLUENCE. 261
of a jkuowledgmsat tbat she was, and had been for some weeks
ia error, by her extraordinary conduct not even a Bofbeniog
tear could her aunt elicit. She had never before so failed
never, not evea when the disappearance of her allowance had
caused extreme displeasure, had Ellen evinced such an ap-
parently suUen spirit of determined hardihood. She would not
attempt defeace or reply to the acted falsehood with which she
was chai'ged, of appearing to wear her watch when she did not,
or to say what she had done with IL Mrs. Hamilton spoke to
her till she was almost exhausted, for her own disappointment
was most painful, and she had not a gleam of hope to urge her
on. Her concluding words were these
"That you are under the evil influence of some anconfessed
and most heinous fault, Ellen, I am perfectly convinced; vi'hat
it is time will reveal. I give you oae month to decide on your
course, of action ; subdue this sullen spirit, confess whatever
error you may have been led into, and so change your conduct
as to be again the child I so loved, spite of occasional faults and
errors, and I will pardon all that is past. If, at the end of a
month, I find you persisting in the same course of rebelbon and
defiance, regardless alike of your duty to your Giod and to me, I
shall adopt some measures to compel submission. I had hoped
to bring up all my children under my own eye, and by my own
efforts ; but if I am not permitted so to do, I know my duty too
well to shrink from the alternative. You will not longer remain
under my care ; some severer guardian and more rigid discipline
may bring you to a sense of your duty, I advise you to think
well on this subject, Ellen ; you know me too well, I think, to
imagine-that I speak in mere jest."
She had left Ihe room as she spoke, so, that if Ellen had in-
tended reply, there was no time for it. But she could not have
spoken, * Go from Oakwood, and in anger 1 Yet it was but just ;
it was better, perhaps, than the lingering torture she was then
enduring better to hide her shaiiie and misery among strangers,
than remain among the good, the happy the guilty wretch she
was. She sat and thought till feeling itself became utterly ex-
hausted, and again the speU, the stupor of indifference, crept
over her. She would have confessed, but she knew that it could
never satisfy, as the half confession she would have been com-
pelled to make it, and the dread of herself, that she should
betray her brotlier, sealed her lips.
Eobert's story, and the strange disappearance of the notch.
had of course been imparted to Percy and Herbert. In {:u:L
(he change in the young man, from being as light-hearted as his
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202 HOME INFLUEKCE.
young msister li:mself, to gravity and almost gloom for 'ho
convicfion of hia master and mistress, as to his innocence, couW
not cheer him, while suspicion against him still actuated Morris,
and many of the other servants would have called the young
men's attention toward him at once. The various paths and
glades between the Hall and Mrs. Langford's cottiige had been
so searched, that unless the storm had destroyed thom or blown
the notes very far away, it seemed next to impossible, that they
could not be found. Mr. Hamilton knew the number of each
note, had told them to his wife, and gave notice at his banker's
tJiat though he did not wish them slopped, be should lilie to
tinow, if possible, when they had passed. No notice of such a
thing had been sent lo Oakwood, and it seemed curious that, if
found and appropriated, they should not yet have been used, for
fen weeks had now shpped away since their loss, and nearly
nine since the letters had been sent to Edward and his captain,
answers to which had not yet been received ; but tliat was
nothing remarkable, for Edward seldom wrote above once in
three or four months.
It was nearing the end of August, when one afternoon Mrs.
Hamilton was prevented joining her children in a stul up the
Dart, though it had been a long promise, and Percy was, in
consequence, excessively indigntmt ; but certain matters relative
to the steward's province demanded a reference to his mistress,
and Morris was compelled to request a longer interview than
usual. Ellen had chosen to join the aquatic party, a decision
now so contrary to her usual habits, that Mrs. Hamilton could
hot help fancying it was to prevent the chance of being any
time alone with her. There had been no change in her man-
ner, except a degree more care to control the disrespectful or
pettish answer ; but nothing lo give hope that the spirit was
changing, and that the hidden error, whatever it might be,
would be adaiowledged and atoned. Mrs. Hamilton was nerv-
ing her own mind tor the performance of the alternative she
had placed before her niece, passing many a sleepless night
in painful meditations. If to send her from Oakwood were
necessary, would it produce the effect she wished ? with whom
could she place her ? and what satisfactory reason could she
assign for doing so ? She knew there would be a hundred
tongues to cry shame on her for sending her orphan niece from
her roof, but that was but one scarcely-tasted bitter drop in the
many other sources of anxiety. But still these were bit her
nightly soiTows ; she might iiave been paler when she rose, but
though her children felt quite sure that Ellen was grieving her
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME IKFLUESCE. 263
cxceedii'-gly, her cheerful aympathy in tlicir onjojments aud
pursuits nevei waned for a moment.
Morris left her at six o'cbck, all his husiiiess so satisfactorily
accomplished, that the old man was quite happy, declaring to
Ellis, he had always thought his mistress unlike any one else
befote ; but such a clear head for reducing difficult accounts
and tangled affairs to order, Le bad never imagined could either
be possessed by, or was any business of, a woman. Not in the
least aware of the wondering admii-atioa she had excited, Mrs.
Hamilton had called Robert and proceeded to the school-room
lo gbt a pattern of embroidery and a note, which Caroline had
requested might be sent lo Annie Grahams that evening ; the
note was on the table, but the pattern and some silks she had
neglected to put up till her brothera were ready, and they so
hurried her, that her motherhad promised she would see to it
for her. The embroidery box was in a panelled closet of tlie
echbol-i-oom, rather high up, and ia taking especial care to bring
it safely down, Eobert loosened a desk from its equihbrium,
and it fell to the ground with such force as to break into se-
veral pieces, and scatter all its contents over the floor. It was
EUen's I the pretty rose-wood desk which had been her gift,
that memorable New Year's Eve, and was now the repository
of her dread secret It was actually in fragments, especially
where the ink-stands and pens had been, and the spring broken,
Ihe secret drawer burst open, and all its contents were dis-
closed. Robert was much too concerned to think of any thing
but.his own extreme carelessness, and his mistress's reprimand ;
and he busied himself in hastily picking up the contents, and
placing them carefully on the table, preparatory to their ar-
rangement by Mrs. Hamilton in a drawer of the tabic which
she was emptying for the purpose. She laid them carefiillyin,
and was loolang over a book of very nicely written French
themes, glad there was at least one thing for which she might
be satisfied with Ellen, when an exclamation
"Why, there is one of theml I am so glad," and as sudden
a stop and half-checked groan from Eobert startled her. She
looked inquiringly at bim, but be only covered bis face with
one hand, while the other remained quite unconsciously cover
ing the secret drawer out of which the contents had not fallen,
but were merely disclosed.
" What is the matter, Eobert ? what Iiave you found to cause
diich' contradictory exclamations? Speak, for God's sake!"
esiaped from Mra. Hamilton's lips, for by that lightning touch
if association, memory, thought, whatever it may be, wliicU
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264 HOME INFLUENCE.
joins events together, and unites present witli. past, so tliat
almost a life seems crowded in a moment, such a suspicion
flashed upon her as fo make her feel sick and giddy, and turn
so unusually paJe, as effectuaUy to rouse Robert, and make Lim
spring up ti get her a chair.
"Nothing, madam, indeed it can be nothing I must be
mistaken I am acting hkea fool this afternoon, doing tbe
most unheard-of mischief, and then frightening yau and myself
at shadows."
"This evasion will not do, Eobert; give me the papers at
which you were so startled."
He hesitated, and Mrs. Hamilton extended her hand to take
them hersel
path, permitting mo to believe you guilty of heavier sins than
may be the case in reality. Listen to me, Ellen ; it is more
than time this . interview should cease, but I wUl ^ve you one
i;hance more. It is how half-past seven " she took the watch
from her neck and laid it on the tabJe "I will remain here
one half-hour longer : by that time this sinful temper may have
[)assed away, and you will consent to ^ve me the cotfession I
demand. I cannot believe you so altered in two months as to
choose obduracy and misery, when pardon, and in time coii
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HOME INFLUENCE. 311
fideiice and love, are offered in their stead. Get up from that
crouching posture, it can be but mo^k bumiHty, and so only
AggmvaXes your sin."
Ellen rase slowly and painfully, and seating herself at the
table, some distance from her aunt, leaned her arms upon it,
and buried her face within them. Never before, and never after
did half an hour appear so interminable to either Mrs. Hamilton
or Ellen. It was well for the ;QrmnesB of (he former, perhaps,
that she could not read the heart of that young girl, even if the
cause of its anguish had been still concealed. Again and again
did the wild longing, turning her actually lajnt and sick with
its agony, come over her to reveal the whole, to ask but rest
and mercy for-herscF, pardon and security for Edward; but
then clear, as held before her in letters of Are, she read eveiy
word of her brother's desperate letter, parlicuiarly " Breathe
it to my uncle or aunt, for if she knows it he will, and you will
never see me more." Her mother, palHd as death, seemed to
stand before her, freezing confession on her heart and lips, look-
ing at her threateningly, as she had so often seen her, as if the
very thought were guilt. The rapidly advancing twilight, the
large and lonely room, all added to that fearful illusion, and if
Ellen did succeed in praying, it was with desperate fervor, for
strength not to betray her brother. If ever there were a martyr
Spirit, it was enshrined in that young, fi:ail form.
Bat how could Mrs. Hamilton imagine this ? How could
her wildest fancy bring Edward r the brave, happy, eager Ed-
ward, of whom captain, officers, and crew wrote in such terms
of praise and admiration, who had never given cause for anxi-
ety, and who was so far distant. as the uniting link lo this
terrible mystery ? Was it not more natural that he should not
enter the incongruous and painful thoughts floating through her
br^n, save as her last resource, by his influence, to obtain the
truth from Ellen ? The more she thought, the more agonizing
her thoughts became ; what could induce this determined silence,
but a conviction of deeper guilt, and what could that guilt be s
The most terrible suspicions crossed her mind ; she had heard
though she had scarcely believed in them, of entanglements.
even where the guardianship had been most rigid. Ojuld one
30 young, seemingly so innocent, have fallen into the power of
some desperate character, who was working on her thus ? How
ould she be sure she intended to take her trinkets to Mrs.
Laugford ? Her choosing that forbidden path which was uever
by any chance trodden hy the family or their friends, her con-
stant desire lately not to join them in their eitursions, prefer-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
Ii72 HOME IKFLUENCE.
ring, and often finding some excuse to remaia alone all caina
to Jlrs. Hamilton's mind, with such an overpowering sensation
of dread and misery, that the worst guilt Ellen could have
avowed would scarcely have been worse than anticipation
pictured; and yet every thought was so vague, every fajicy so
undefined there was nothiag slie could grasp at as a saving
hope, or in the remotest degree excusing cause ; such obdurate
silence in one so yeung, generally so yielding, could and must
conceal nothing but still more fearful sin. The darkness which
had gathered round them, save' -the brightening light of the
harvest moon, suddenly awakened her to the lapse of time.
The moonlight fell full on the face of the watch, which was a
repeater. It wanted but three minutes more, and Mrs. Hamil-
ton watched the progress of the hand with such sickening dread,
that when it reaehed the hour, she had scarcely strength to
strike it, and so give notice for words she had none that
the hour of grace had passed. But she conquered the power-
lessness, and those soft chimes, which, when Ellen first came to
Oakwood, had been such a constant source of childish wonder
and dehght, now rang in her ears louder, hoarser, more fear-
fully distinct, than even those of the ancient time-piece in the
liall, which at the same moment rang out the hour of eight.
The sound ceased, and with heightened .dignity, but ia per-
fect silence, Mrs. Hamilton rose, passed her niece, and had
nearly reached the door, when she paused, and turned toward
Ellen, as if irresolute. Ellen's eyes had watched her as in
fascination, and the pause endowed her with just sufficient
power to spring forward, tling herself at her aunt's feet, and
clasping her knees with all her little remaining strength, pas-
sionately implore
"Aunt Emmeline, atint Emmeline, apeak to me but one
word, only one word of kindness before you go, I do not ask
for mercy, there can be none for such a wretch as I am ; I will
bear without one complaint, one murmur, all you may inflict
you cannot bo too severe. Nothing can be such agony as the
utter loss of your affection ; I thought, the last two months, that
I feared you so much that it was all fear, no love, but now,
now that you know ray sin, it has all, all come back to make
me still more wretched." And before Mrs. Hamilton could
prevent, or was in the least aware of her intention, Ellen had
obtained possession of one of her hands, and was covering it
with kisses, while her whole frame shook with those convulsed,
but completely tearless sobs.
" Will yen confess, Ellen, if I stay? Will you give me tli
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
nOME INFLUENCE. 273
proof tiiat it is such agony to lose my aiFection, tiat you dc
live me aa you profess, and that it is only one sin -nhich haa
BO changed you ? One word, and, tardy as it ig, I will hslen,
and, if I can, forgive."
Ellen made no answer, and Mrs. Hamilton's newly-raised
hopes vanished ; she waited full two or three minutes, then
gently disengaged her hand and dress from Ellen's still convul-
sive grasp ; the door closed, with a sullen, seemingly unwilling
sound, and Ellen was alone. She remained in the same pos-
ture, the same spot, till a vague, cold terror so took possession
rf her, that the room seemed fiUed with ghostly shapes, and all
the articles of furniture suddenly transformed to things of life !
and springing up, with the wild, fleet step of fear, she paused
not tin she found herself in her own room, where flinging her-
self on her bed, she buried her face on her pillow, to shut out
every object oh, how she longed to shut out thought I
It was such a different scene, such a fulness of innocent joy,
on which Mrs. Hamilton entered, that though she thought her-
self nerved to control all visible emotion, the contrast almost
overpowered her; knowing, too, that the fatal effects of one
person's sin mast banish that innocent enjoyment, and would
fall on them all as some fearful, joy-destroying blow. The
room, one of the least spacious, was cheerfully lighted, the um
hissing upon the table, at which Caroline, as usual, was presid-
ing, only waiting for her mother's appearance, to satisfy Percy,
who was loudly declaring he was famished ia two senses for ,
want of his mother's company, and of some reaforative for his
craving appetite. He was lounging on the sofa, playing with
Emmeline'a flowing ringlets, as she sat on a low stool by his
side, chatting with him, in as discursive a strain as his fancy
willed. Herbert and Miss Harcourt were stOl in earnest dis-
'ussioa on their poem, from which Herbert was occasionally
reading aloijd such beautiful passages, and with such richness
of intonation, and variety of expression, that Caroline, and even
Percy and Emmeline, would pause involuntarily to listen.
"At length ! " eselaimed Percy, springing up, as did Herbert
at the samo momont, to get their mother a chiur, and place her
comfortably as usual in the midst of them. "Mother, I reaOy
did begin to think you intended to punish my impalience by not
joining us at all to-night."
"I did not know you were impatient, my dear boy, or per-
haps I might have done so ! " was her quiet, and even smiling
reply. " I fear, indeed, waiting for me so long after a water-
escusion, must have caused you to be impatient in another
aense."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
274 BOME ISFLUENCE.
" Wliat ! tliat we must be all famished ? I assiu-e you, wc
are, and the loss of your society sharpened the pangs of hunger.
I owe Morris a grudge, and will certainly serve him out one
day, for detaining you so long when I wanted you,"
" It was not Morris that detained me," answered Mrs. Ha
Jiilton, somewhat hurriedly. " I had done with him by sis
clock ; but come, fell me something about your excursion,"
she added, evidently anxious to elude farther remark, and per-
ceiving at once that Misa Harcourt and Herbert, both looked at
her very anxiously. " How did your boat go, and how did
Caroline's voice and your flute sound on the water, Percy?
Herbert, I Bee, has found poetry, as usual, and made Miss Har
coui-t his companion ; you must tell me what verses our beauti-
ful river recalled this afternoon ; and you, Emmy, have you any
more sketches to flU up ? "
Her children eagerly entered on their day's enjoyment
Herbert, conquering his anxiety, to emulate his mother's calm-
ness, hut Miss Harcourt had been too psunfully startled by the
unusual expression of forcibly-controlled suffering on her friend's
face, to do so with any success. Weariy an iour, however,
passed animatedly as usual ; each found so much to tell, and
Percy was in such wild sphits, that it was utteriy impossible for
there to be any thing like a pause. Tea had always been a
favorite meal at Oakwood, as bringing all the family together
after the various business of the day, and it continued to be so.
They had lingered over it as usual, when Caroline suddenly
excltumed
" What has become of Ellen ? I had quite forgotten her till
this moment ; how neglectful she will think us ! Do ring the
bell, Percy, that we may send and let her know."
" If she has no recollection of ineal-time, I really think- we
need not trouble ourselves about her," was Percy's half-jesting,
half-earnest reply, for Ellen's changed manner to his mother
had made him more angry with her, and for a longer time
together, than he had ever been with anybody, especially a
woman, in his life. He stretehed out his hand, however, to ring
the bell, but Mrs. Hamilton stopped him.
" You need not, Percy ; your cousin will not wish to join us,
she said ; and her tone was now so expressive of almost an
guish, that every one of that happy party start^led and lo'jked
at her with the most unfeigned alarm, and Percy, every thcnght
of jest and joyousness checked, threw his arms round her, ex-
Qiaiming
'.' Mother, dearest ! what has happened ! that tmhappy girl
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE, 273
ag^n ! I am sure it is. Why do you not cast her off Jironi
rour heart at once ; she will bring you nothing but sorrow for
all your love,"
"Percy, how caa you be bo harsh? how unlike you I"
exclaimed Emmeline, indignantly, as Mrs. Hamilton's head, for
a few niinutes of natui-al weakness, sunk on her son's encircling
arm, "We have all given mamma trouble and pain enough
one time or other, and what would have become of us if she
had cast us off? and Ellen, has no mother, too for fchame ! "
" Hush ! " answered Percy, almost sternly, for there were
times when he could quite throw off the boy. " This is no
light or common matter, to affect my mother thus. Shall we
send for Mr Howard, mothei ' " he continued, fondly ; " in my
(iither's ab'-euLe he is your ableit fiicnd we can only feel, not
counsel."
But there are tunes when feehng can aid in bi-inging back
control and strength, when counsel alone would seem so liarsli
and cold, we can only weep befoie it; and- the fond affection
of her children, the unusual issumption of protecting manliness
in Percy, so tfiuchmgly united with the deep respect that pre-
vented the least intrusive question as to the cause of her distress
till she chose to reveal it, gave her power to send hack the tears
that had escaped at first so hot and fast, and though stiU holding
his hand, as if its very pressure was support, she was enabled
calmly to relate the fatal discovery of ttat evening. Its effect
was, in truth, as .if a thunderbolt had fellen in the midst of
them. An execration, forcibly checked, but passionate as his
nature, hurst from the lips of Percy, as he clasped his arm
close round his mother, as thus to protect her from the misery
he felt himself. Herbert, with a low cry of pain, buried his
face in his hands. Caroline, shocked and hewiidered, but her
first thought for her mother, could only look at, and feel for her,
quite forgetting that her every prejudice against Ellen did in-
deed seem fulfilled, Emmeline at first looked stunned, then
sinking down at Mrs. Hamilton's feet, hid her face on herlap,
and sobbed with such uncontrolled violence; that it might have
seemed as if she herself, not Ellen, were the guilty cause of all
this mbery. Miss Harcourt, hte Caroline, could only think
end feel for Mrs. Hamilton ; for she knew so well all the hope,
Interest, and love which Ellen had excited, and what milst be
ihe bitter suffering of this fearful disappointment.
" Do not weep thus, love," Mrs. Hamilton said, addressing
Emme'ine, after nearly a quarter of an hour had passed, and
Uie various emotions of eaah individual had found vent in words
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
Z'6 HOME INFLUENCE.
well illustrativt" of tlieir respective characters ; all but Emmeline,
who continued to sob so painfully, that lier mother successfully
forgot her own sorrow to comfort her. "Ellen is still very
youug, and tiijugh she is giving ks ail this misery and diaap-
pointmcHt now, sbe may become all we can wish her, bj-and-by.
We must not give up all hope, because now all my cares seem
so blighted. There is some fatal mystery attached to her con-
duct ; for I am indeed deceived if she' is cot yery wretched, and
(here is some hope in that."
"Then why does she not speak?" rejoinedPercy,impetuous-
ly; for when he found liia mother resuming controland firmness,
he had given vent to his indignation by striding hastily up and
down the room. "What but the most determined hardihood
and wickedness can keep her silent^ when you promise forgive-
ness if she will but speak ? . What mystery can there, or ought
there, to be about her, when she has suet an indulgent friend
as yourself to bring all her troubles to ? Wretched 1 I hope
she is, for she deserves to be, if it were only for her base in-
gratitude."
"Percy! dear Percy! do not speak and judge so very
harshly," inlerposed Herbert, with deep feeling; "there does,
indeed, seem no eicnse for her conduct, but if we ever should
find that there is some extenuating cause, how unhappy we
shall be for having judged her still more harshly than she
deserved,"
"It is impossible we can do that," muttered Percy, continu-
ing his angiy walk. "Nothing but guilt can be the cause of
her keeping any thing from my mother. EUen knows, as we
all know, that even error, when confessed, has always been for-
given, Borrow always soothed, and every difficulty removed.
What can her silence spring from, then, but either defying
obstinacy or some blacker sin?"
" It does seem, lite it, unhappily," rejoined Caroline, but very
sorrowfully, not at all as if she tiiumphed in her own previous
peneti-ation ; "but she eaanot persevere in it long. Dear
mamma, do not look so distressed; it is impossible she can
resist you for any length of lime."
" She has resisted every offer of kindness, my dear child,
and it is the difficulty as to what course to pursue, to compel
submission and confession, that so grieves and perplexes me."
"Let me seek Mr. Howard, dearest mother," answered Her-
bert; "ho is so good, so kind, even in his severest judgments,
that I really think Ellen will scarcely be able to persevere in
her mistaken silence, if he speak to her,"
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HOME ISFLUENCE, 277
Mra. Hamilton paused for some momenta in thought.
" I believe you are right, Herbert. If I must have counsel
Diit of jny own family, I cannot go to a kinder, wiser, or more
silent fnend. If the fearful shame which I must inflict on
Ellen to-night of proving Robert's innocence before my whole
household, by the denouncement of her guilt, have no effect in
Boftening her, I will appeal to him."
"Oh, mamma, mast this be can you not, will jou not
spare her this ? " implored Emmeline, dinging to her mother,
in passionate entreaty ; " it would kill me, I know it would.
Do not do not expose her lo such shame."
"Do you think it is no suffering to my mother to be called
iSpon to do this, Emmeline, that you add to it by this weak in-
terference?" replied Percy, sternly, before his mother could
reply. " Shame ! she has shamed us all enough. There
wants Uttle more to add to it."
But Emmeline's blue eyes never moved from her mother's
face, and Miss Harcourt, lon^ng to spare Mrs. Hamilton the
Buffering of such a proceeding, tried to persuade her to evade
it, but she did not succeed.
" One word of confession one evidence that her sin ori-
ginated in a momentary temptation, that it conceals nothing
darker one real proof of penitence, and God knows how
gladly I would have spared myself and her ; hut as it. is, Lucy,
Emmehne, do not make my duty harder."
Few as these words were, the tone that spoke them was
enough. No more was said, and Mrs. Hamilton tried, but with
very little success, to turn her children's thoughts to other and
pleasanter things. Time seemed to lag heavily, and yet when
the prayer-hell sounded, it fell on every heart as some fearful
knell which must have been struck too soon.
All were assembled in the library, and in their respective
places, all but one, and Herbert waited her appearance,
" Tell Miss Fortescue that we are only waiting for her to
commence prayers ; " and Fanny, the young ladies' attendant,
depai-ted to obey, wondering at Miss Ellen's non-appearance,
but hearing nothing unusual in her mistress's voice. She re-
turned, but stiU they waited ; agaJa the door unclosed, and
Emmeline bent forward in an attitude of agony and shame,
unable even to look at her cousin, whose place was close beside
her; but the words she dreaded came not then Herbert, at
his mother's sign, commenced the service, and it proceeded as
usual. The fearful struggle in Mrs, Hamilton's gentle bosom,
who might read, save the all-pitying God, whom she so fer-
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S78 HOME INFLUENCE.
veiitly addressed for etrengtli and guidance? The voice cf liet
son ceased, and the struggle was over,
"Before we part for to night," she said, when all but one
had arisen, "it is necessaiy that the innocent shoiUd be so justi-
fied before you all, that he should no longer be injured by
suspicion and avoidance. It is nearly two months since your
master assured you of his own and of my perfect conviction
that Eobert Longford had told the truth, and that the missing
notes had been unfortunately lost by him ; not appropriated, aa
I fear most of you have beKeved, and are still inclined to do.
The complete failure of every search for them has induced a
very uncomfortable feeling among you all as to the person on
whom suspicion of finding and appropria;tJng them might fall,
none but the household fi^equenting that particular path, and
none being able to suppose that tbe storm could have so dis-
peraed as to lose all trace of them. I acknowledge it was
unlikely, but not so imlikely as that Eohert Langford should
have failed in honesty, or that any of my household should have
appropriated or concealed them. All mystery is now, how-
ever, at an end ; the missing noies have been traced and found ;
and that all suspicion and discomfort may be removed from
among you, it becomes ray duty to designate the individual
who has thus transgressed every duty to God and man, not by
the sin alone ; but by so long permitting the innocent to suffer
for the guilty, inore especially as that individual is one of my
own family" for one moment she paused, whether to gain
strength, or to give more force to her concluding words, no ono
could tell "Ellen FortescdeI"
CHAPTER VL
THE SEHTENCB, AND ITS EXECtJTIOH.
The excitement which reigned in the servants' hall, after
they had withdrawn, in the moat respectful silence, from Ihe
library, was extreme. Robert, utterly unable to realize reEef
in this proof of his own innocence, could only pace the hall in
agony, deploring his mad carelessness, which, by exposing to
temptation, had caused it all ; and Morris and EUis deepened
the remorse by perfectly agreeing with him. Before they sepa-
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HOME INFLUENCE. 279
K ted, the old steward called tlietn all together ; and, hia voice
trombling wilh agitation, the fears actually runping down his
furrowed cheeks, toid them that even as their mistress bad done
her duty (o the utmost, ay, more than the utmost by them for
it must have well-nigh broken her heart to do it a solemn duty
was demanded from them to her, and that if either man, woman,
or child failed in it, he should know that they had neither feel-
ing, honor, nor gratitude in their hearts, and deserved and
should be scouted by them ail ; and that duty was never to let
the event of that night pass their lips, even to eaeh other. It
was enough that all mystery and suspicion had been taken from
them, and that time would. clear up tte remainder'; he never
would believe the grandchild of bis mistress's father, one she
had so loved and eared for, could wilfiiUy act as appearances
seemed to say ; that he was sure, one day or other, they would
al! find there was much more to pity timn to blame ; and till
then, if they had the least spark of generous or grateful feeling,
they would forget the whole affair, and only evince their sense
of their mistress's conduct, by yet greater respect and attention
to their respective duties.
The old man's speech was garrulous, and perhaps often
faulty in grammar, but it came from the heart, and so went to
the heart at once, and not one held back from the pledge of
silence he demanded. There are some who imagine that the
refinement of feeling which alone could actuate Morris's speech,
and its warm and immediate response, is only to be found
among the educated and the rich ; how little those who thus
suppose understand the human heart ! ; Kindness begets kind-
ness ; and if superiors will but thick of, and seek the happiness,
temporal and eternal, of their inferiors wUl but prove that
they are considered as children of one common Father there
needs no equality of rank to create equality of happiness, or
equality of refined, because true feeling.
The next morning, when Mrs. Hamilton had occasion to
speak to Morris about some fann receipts, which had not been
forthcoming the preceding day, she recalled him as he was
departing ; but the words she had to say seemed unusually
difficult, for her voice audibly faltered, and her face was com-
pletely shaded by her hand. It was simply to ask that which
Morris's loving reverence had already done ; and when the old
man, in-those earnest accents of heartfelt respect and kindness,
which never can be mistakan, related what had passed, his
mistress hastily extended her hand to him, saying, in a tDe he
tiever forgot
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
B80 HOME ISFLUKSCE.
" God bless yoa, Morris ! I ought to Lave known your Iota
for jour master's house would have urged tliis, without any re-
quest from me. I cannot thank you enough." The kiss ha
ventured to press upon the delicate hand which pressed liio
rough palm, was not unaccompanied, though he did force ha^b
the tear, and most respectfully, yet very earnestly, heaeech hia
mistress not to take on too mtich. There must he Bome cause,
some mystery ; no one belonging to her could so bave'acted
without some very fearful temptation, some very powerful rea-
son, and It would all come straight one day.
But whatever the future, the present was only sfFering ; for
to obt^ a full confession from EUen, Mrs. Hamilton felt so
absolutely incumbent on her, that she steadily refused to listen
U- either pity or affection, which could shake her firmness ; and
the opinion and advice of Mr. Howard strengthened the deter-
mination. . He had a private interview with EOeo, but it was
attended with so very little success, that he left her far more
bewildered and grieved thau he had sought her ; but fully con-
vinced it was mere hardihood and obstinacy, which caused her
mcomprehensible and most guilty silence. Not even allowing,
as Mrs. Hamilton had, that there was any evidence of misery
and remorse ; perhaps she had been more quiet, more resolutely
calm, and if it had not been for the strong appearances against
her, he sureiy must have seen it was the strength and quiet of
despair, not the defiance he believed.
" This rebelhous spirit must be conquered," he said, on rejoin-
ing Mrs. Hamilton, who, with her children and Miss Hareourt,
had most anxiously and yet hopefully aw^ted the result of his
interference. "We should actually be sharing her sin, if we
permit her to conquer us by obduracy and self-will. Solitary
confinement and complete idleness may bring her to a better
temper, and, in fact, should be persisted in, till a ftdl confession
bo made. If that faO, my dear Mrs. Hamifton, your niect
should be banished from Oakwood. She must not remain here,
a continual source of anxiety and misery to you, and of success-
ful hardihood to herself; but of that there will be time enough
to think when you have an answer from Mr. Hamilton; his
judgment from a distance may be wiser than ours on the spot,
and irritated as we are by such unaccountable obstinacy in one
we have always thought almost too yielding."
And it was this incomprehensible change of character, in
seeming, that still more perplexed Mrs. Hamilton, and so made
her believe there must be some worse fault, or dangei-ous
entanglement, demanding such resolute pertinacity ia conceal-
ment.
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HOME INFLTIEK-CE. 2S1
Closely coauccted with Ellis's private apai'tmeiits, and having
neither inlet nor outlet, save throiigh the short passage opening
fri)m;her sitting-room, were two small but not uncomfortable
apartments, opening oiie into the other, and looking out on a
very pretty but quite unfrequented part of the park. They had
often bean used when any of Elhs's children or grandehildren
came to see her, and were in consequence almost sufficiently
habitable, without any further preparation, except the turning
one info a sitting-room, which Ellis's active care speedily ac-
complished. Her mistress inspected them, at her desire, sug-
gested one or two additionsil ebmforts, and then held a long
confidential conversation with her. She had such perfect con-
fidence in her (for Ellis had been from a child married, and
become mother and widow, and married her children - all as an
inmate of the Hamilton family, and had held the confidential
post of housekeeper for sixteen years) that she did not hesitate
one moment to cominit Ellen entirely to her care, at least till
she could receive an answer about her from her husband. She
depended on her to watch over her health, to see that she took
daily exercise with her, in those parts of the park where she
was not likely to attract notice, as being with her instead of with
any member of her family, and that she took her regular meals ;
to be with her whenever she took them, and at casual times in
the day, not so as to remove the impression of solitude and dis-
gi'ace, but to he enabled to watch her closely, and the least
symptom of a softening spirit to report instantly to her.
" She will, of course, join us in the hours of devotion, though
not occupying her usual place, for she who has lowered herself,
in the sight of Grod and man, beneath the humblest of my do-
mestics, may no longer kneel above them," she said in conclu-
sion. "But of ray determination on the point she is already
aware ; and she will go with us as usual to church; I will have
no remark inade, fuilher than I can avoid. Be aa kind to her
as you can, Ellis, consistent with your character as a wise and
watchful guai-dian. God in mei'cy grant that her heart may
be, so softened, that you will not fill that painful position long.
Ajid now to see her."
But Percy's watchful care had so quietly interposed, that his
mother found herself in their usual sitting-room, and in the midst
of them all, before she could seek EOen : and when, with half
reproach, she told him, that she liad still a most painful duty lo
accomplish, therefore he ought not to have prevented it, he an-
Hwered impetuously
"Mother, you shall not see Ellen any more alone! shehaa
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362 HOME INFLUENCE.
made you miserable enough akeady, and each time that slie
Bees you, her deceitful appearance of remorse and suffering, for
they cannot be real, or she would speak, but add to it ; send for
her here, and fell her your decision before us all."
And Mrs. Hamilton comphed, for she felt as if her firmness
would be less likely to fail, than if Ellen attempted any thing
like supplication with her alone. But not a word of eupplica
tion came. Ellen had answered the summons, by quietly ac
companying Ellis, who had been sent for her, to her aunt's pre
sence, pale, indeed, as marble, but so tearless and still, as to
seem unmoved. An expression of actual relief stole over her
features as she heard her sentence, undisturbed even when told
that this would only be, till Mr, Hamilton's sentence tame; as,
if she continued silent until then, of course whatever severer
measures he might dictate would be instantly obeyed. But
when Mrs. Hamillon proceeded to say that she intended writ-
ing the whole affair to Edward, that his influence might awaken
her to a sense of the fearfully aggravated guilt she was incurring
by her silence, an expression of the most intense agony suc-
ceeded the previous calm, and sinking down before her, Ellen
wildly implored
" Oh, aunt Emmehiie, in mercy spare him ! do not, oh, do
not throw such shame upon him, he who is so brave, admired,
honored ! do not, oh, if you have any pity left, do not make him
hate me, loathe me too, my own only brother I he must throw
me off. How can he bear such shame upon hia name ! Oh,
do, with me more than you have said, any thing, every thing,
but that. Spare him I "
" Spare him yourself," interposed Percy, sternly. (He was
standing, with his anas crossed, by a window ) Herbert was
leaning at the back of Mrs. Hamilton's chair ; Caroline and
Miss Harcourt trying very steadily to work, and Emmeline
bending over a drawing, which her tears were utieriy spoiling.)
" If the knowledge of your sin make him miserable, as it
must, be yourself the one to save him you alone can. Speak ;
break this determined and most guilty silence, and his influ-
ence wilt not be needed, and my mother wUl be silent to him
(/oncerning what has passed, now and forever, as we will aU.
If yon so love him, spare him the shame you have brought on
ill of us; if not, it is mere words,.as must be the love you have
professed all these years for my mother."
Ellen turned her feee towaii him for a single minute, with
bucIl an expression of anutterable misery, that he turned haftily
away, even his anger in part subdued, and Mi-s. Hamilton could
scarcely reply.
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HOME INFLUENCE. 283
" I oaniiot gi'ant your request, Ellen, for lo I'efuse il, appears
w me the only means of softoning you. It may be a full forf-
night before I can write to Edward, for we must receive letters
first. If during that interval you choose to give me the only
proof of repentance that can satisfy me, or bring the least
hope of returning happiness to yourself, I shall now know how
to act. I would indeed spare your brother this bitter shajne,
but if you continue thus obdurate, no entreaties will move me.
Rise, and go with Ellis. Punishment and misery, repentance
and pardon, are all before you ; you aloae can choose. I shall
interfere no more, till your uncle's sentence comes." And long-
ing to end this painful scene, for her mistress's sake, Ellis led
Ellen, from the room, and conducted her to the apartments as-
signed her. She felt much too angry and annoyed at the pain
and trouble Ellen was giving her mistress, to evince any thing
like kindness lowai^ her at first, but she had not been under
her care above a week before her feelings underwent a, com-
plete change.
Suffering as she was enduring, more especially from, the con-
viction, that to every one of those she loved (for affection for
esich one of the family had now returned with almost passionate
violence) she must be an object of hate and loatiiing, yet that
her sin was knowu, was a reUef so inexpressibly blessed, she
felt strengthened to endure every thing else. She knew, and
her God knew, the agonized temptation to the momentary at,
and the cause of her determined silence. She felt there was
strange comfort in that ; though she knew no punishment could
be loo severe for the sin itself, and she prayed constantly to be
enabled to bear it, and still not to betray her brother ; and the
consequence of these petitions was a calm, gentle, deeply sub-
missive demeanor. Not a munnnr ever passed her lips, and
Ellis scarcely ever saw the signs of tears, which she longed for ;
for the quiet, but feavfully intense suffering, Ellen's very evi-
dent daily portion, alarmed her for its effect upon her always
delicate health. As yet, however, there was no outward ap-
pearance of its failing, it rather bore up, from the cessation of
the nervous dread and constant terror, which she had endured
before ; and before Mr. Hamilton's letter arrived, a month after
the fatal discovery, Ellis had drawn her own conclusions, and
her manner, instead of being distant and cold, had become so
excessively kind and feeling, that the poor girl felt some heavy
shange must be impending, she dared not look to the continu-
ance of such comfort.
But Mrs. Hamilton never saw her n ece, save when no words
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iio4 HOME INFLUEKCE.
could pass between them ; aad she could not judge as EUis did.
She could only feel, as each day passed, without hringing the
desired proof of sorrow and ameudmeut, more and more bewil-
dered, and very wretched. Though, for her children's sake,
she so conquered the feeUng as, after tJie first week, lo restore
cheerfulnees, and promote the various amusements they had
all so enjoyed. Ellen's disappearance had of course to be ac-
counted for, to the intimate friends with whom they so con-
stantly were ; but her acknowledgment that she had been dis-
appointed iu her, and that her conduct would not allow he.r
any soial or domestic indulgence, at leaat for a time, satisfied
the elder members. Annie, for the first time, discovered that
Caroline was her match in cleverness, merely from her exces-
sive truth and simplicity, and that, manceuvre as she might, she
could not discover the smallest clew to this sudden mystery.
And Mary, for the first time, and on this one subject alone,
found Herbert and Emmeline ynpenetrably reserved.
As soon as Sirs. Langfof d had been informed by her son, at
his mistress's desire, of the unanswerable proof of his innocence,
6he hastened to the Hall, and requesting a private interview
with Mrs. Hamilton, placed at once in her hands all the trinkete
and watch, with which she had been at different times intrusted ;
related all that had passed between her and Miss Fortescue,
the excessive misery she seemed lo be enduring ; and confessed
that the few pounds she had given her, as the sums obtained
by the sale of the trinkets, she had advanced herself, having
resolved that nothing should induce her to dispose of them ;
aad that of course it was the difficulty she had in advandng
their light value, which had occasioned the length of time that
had elapsed since Ellen had first sought her.
" Would it not go far to prove she really did wish to return
the money ? " Mrs. Hamilton thought, long after the widow had
loft her, and the sums she had advanced returned with interest.
" Was it to return the fatally appropriated sum, or because she
needed more ? Ellen had so positively, and with such agony
asserted the first, that it was scarcely possible to disbelieve
her i but what was this fearful dif&culty, this pressing demand
by one so young for so much money? Why, if it were com-
paratively innocent, would she not speak?" The more she
(bought, the more perplexed and anxious she seemed to become.
The act itself of endeavoring to dispose of the trinkets, espe-
cially those tliat had been given and received, as doubly valua-
ble because they had been worn by her mother, would have
been sufficiently faulty to have occasioned natural di ! pleasure-
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HOME INFLUENCE. 385
but compaied with other known and unknown faults, it sunk
into almost nothing. Mrs. Hamilton collected them all together,
Uiosrj Mrs. Langford had returned, and the few remaining in
her uiece's drawer, and carefully put them away, till divsura-
stances might authorize her returning them to Ellen, and de-
termined on saying notliing more on tb.o subject ither to Ellen
or her own femily.
One thing Ellis reported to her regarding Ellen, which cer-
tainly seemed hke a consciousness of the wrong she had doLO
Robert, and a wish to atone for it. She begged Ellis so earn-
estly that she might see him, if it were only for five minutes,
that she could not resist her ; and when he came, she implored
him so touchingly, so pleadingly to forgive her long silence
himself, and entreat his mother to do so too assuring him, that
it was the hope, of being able to restore the notes to him, with-
out revealing her identity, which had caused tlie silence that it
was scarcely possible to listen to her unmoved. It was no
false humility, but the deepest, most unfeigjied contrition for
having been the cause of injury.
Ten days after Ellen's imprisonment,' the letter arrived from
Sir Edward Manly, which Mrs. Hamilton had alluded to as
necessary lo be received, before she could write to her nephew,
and tiie news it brought, though somewhat alloyed, would at
another time have been received with the greatest delight. Ed
ward was returning. In three weeks, or a month at the utmost^
after the receipt of his commander's letter, he might be wit!
tliem all ; invalided home for a three or four months' leave-
There had been another, and wther severe engagement, in.
which young Fortescue had still more distinguished himself;
hut from his headlong courage had been severely, hut not at all
seriously hurt. Sir Edwai-d intended sending the pirate frigate
which they had taken to England, as she was a tight-built, well
looking craft enough, he wrote, if manned with honorable men
instead of desperafo villains ; ^d had nominated Haiding and
Fortescue to accompany the second lieutenant, as her officers.
The name of Harding produced no disagreeable reminiscence
in Mrs. Hamilton's mind. It had been so very long since Ed-
ward had even mentioned him, that she had almost forgotten
his early fancy for hiin. Her only thought now was thankful-
ness that her gallant nephew had been preserved, and that he
was coming hoine. It could scai-cely be pleasure she felt,
though all the young pai-ty did, for there was such an excite-
ment in Edward's courage, and in his having been in two des-
perate engagements, and seen so much, that, with the buoyaticj
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28fi HOME INFLUENCE.
hajiplly nail i'al to well-disp03ed youth, they could only think
and talk of bis return, forgetting the alloy that must cloud it.
Percy and Herbert hoped he would arrive within the three
weeks^ as then they should be with him at least a weelt or ten
days. If delayed, he would very provokingly just aifive as they
would be returning to college.
After much painful deliberation, Mrs. Hamilton determined
on makiog Herbert her messenger with these unexpected tid-
ings to EOea ; hoping more than she expressed that his gentle
/eloquence in bringing before her the misery to which she must
condemn her brother if she would persist ia this silence, and so
compel an appeal to him, would have some effect ; especially
as she chained him to impress upoa her that even now confes-
sion should hrjng pardon, and concealment of ail irom Edward. ,
Herbert gladly undertook the mission, and so feelingly, so earn-
estly discharged it, that poor Ellen felt more heart-broken than
she had done yet, and almost uicapable of retaining her firm-
ness, Bt she did ; for danger to Edward seemed more immi-
nent now that he was coming home, to the very vicinity of his
dreaded uncle, than when he waS at a distance. She could
only feel thankful if concealment were indeed ao absolutely
necessary as he had declared it to be that Mr. Hamilton was
Btill fixim home, and might continue to be so during Edward's
visit. It was difficult to repress the sickening shudder, when
Herbert chanced to mention that Harding was her brother's
companion in his voyage home, and difficult, not to express
more disappointment than the occasion warranted, that Edward
had not answered her last letter. He must have received it,
Herbert said, for Sir Edward acknowledged his father's in
which hers to Edward had been inclosed. He left her, after a
very long interview, deeply grieved at the failure of all his per-
suasions, aU his remonstrances, but compelled, he could not sa-
tisfactorily explain why, either to himself or to his family, to
pity far more than blaine. Percy declared, as did Caroline and
Miss Harcourt, that it must be only his own too kind and gentle
disposition, which never could blame anybody or any thing.
Mrs. Hamilton was bitterly disappointed; Mr. Howard insisted
that such obduracy demanded nothing but the sternest treat-
ment, and he only wished Mr. Hamilton's letter could arrive at
once. He saw Ellen again himself twice in the five weeks,
which elapsed between the discovery of her sin and the anival
of Mr. Hamilton's answer; but if kindness had so failed, it was
comparatively easy to resist his well-intentioned, but in this case
utterly mistaken sternness. He was in general so kind even iji
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME rNFLUENCE. 287
lih judgments, that Mrs. Hamilton tliouglit he muat have some
cL'Ason to believQ Ellen so thoroughly hardened, and from hia
report of her was enabled to impart her husband's sentence wiili
more firmness, than had she listened to her own kind, still lov-
It was as she and Mr, Howard had both expected, Ellen
iv:is no longer to remain at Oakwood, but to be placed under
the care of a maiden lady, living in Yorkshire, a relation of
Mr. Hamilton, and one who had occasionally visited Oakwood,
and was, therefore, well known to Mrs, Hamilton, and to Ellis
too, and regarded with such dislike by the latter, as to make
her actually venture to entreat her mistress not to send Miss
Ellea to her ; she was sure it would break her heart- Now
Miss Seidon was one of the worthiest women that ever breath-
ad honest, straightforward, truth-speaking literally to a fault,
but as hard as she was true. Whether she ever had any feel-
ings or not, Mrs. Hamilton, with all her penetration, never
could discover ; but the good she did was immense in practical
benevolence, though the quick sympathy, the kindly word, the
indulgent thought, seemed utterly unknown. She had no pity
for faults or failings, always declaring forbearajice and love
were all folly; "if a branch were in the shghteat degree de-
cayed, cut it off; if the blight extend to the root, destroy it,"
she was fond of saying. As for youthful follies or errors, she
had no patience with tkem, for never having been, or rather
felt young herself, she could not understand the age in others.
Ellis had not discrimination enough to discern the good which
lay under this very disagreeable exterior; Mrs. Hamillon had;
and suffering as she knew a residence with her must be to
Ellen, if indeed she were really the character she had seemed
in childhood though the last few months had. so contradicted
it she felt her husband haddecided wisely, spite of themiseiy
which still even the very thought of sending her orphan niece
KO completely from her, was to herself. Mr. Hamilton's letter
read harshly, but his wife knew his high, almost stem princi-
ples; he had rot seen Ellen's evident anguish; he could only
judge from the relation which had been, sent him, and all which
that told was indeed against her. Of course he said, if she had
confeaaed, and her confession in any degree pleaded for her,
hia wife would use her own judgment as to the period ,of her
banishment; but he could not imagine any cause fcr her con-
duct sufficiently excusing, as to demand the avoidance of his
f 'ntence altogether.
Miss Seldon's last visit to Oakwood was sufficiently well
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
288 HOME INFLUENCE,
remejnbcred bj the yoimg Hamiltons (thougli it was before
their cousins liad arrived from India) for tiieni all even Percy
and Caroline, the most indignant against Ellen to think of
their father's sentence with'the deepest. regret, and with almost
dreftd for its effect oe Ellen.
" If she did but know her, she must speak," was Emmeline's
exclamation. '"I did not feel quite sure that I was my own
happy self, all the time she was with us."
"The atmosphere was frozen twenty degrees below zero in
all the rooms she frequented, though it was otherwise a hot
sumraer," rejoined Percy; "and in Yorkshire "
" Pray do not joke, dear Pei-cy ; I cannot bear to think of
Ellen going away from us at all, much less to such a guai-dian,
though I know she is very good," answered Herbert,
"Now, my good fellow, do not attempt to say a word for
Nancy Seldon ; she was the only person, in the world I ever
heard you acknowledge you disliked; so what must she he?
Worthy ! no doubt, or my father woi:ld not have trusted Ellen
to her, but for any thing else "
" Poor Ellen ! she little knoiTs to what her obstinacy is con-
.demning her," rejoined Caroline j I wish she did, and then she
might spare herself and mamma, too ; though I fear even con-
fession would not help her much now."
Mrs. Hamilton might and did think with them aU, but she
could not swerve from her duty. She wrote at ouce to Miss
Seldon, not entering into particulars, but merely asking if she
would consent to take charge of a relative, whose conduct de-
manded more rigid watchfulness and care, and an entire cessa-
tion of indulgence, than could be the case in the fajnily circle at
Oakwood. She and her husband bad such pei-feet confidence
in her, she said, that if she could oblige thtim by undertaking
the duty, they knew, without any assurance oa her pari, that
she would discharge it faithfully. The yearly swm they offered
was large, because they wished their young relative to have
all the comforts and appurtenances of a gentlewoman, and the
advantages of the best education, the city near which she re-
sided, could afford. Mrs. Hamilton had no doubt of the affirm-
ative nature of the reply, for Miss Seldon owed the recovery
of her fortiine and position entirely to the exertions of Mr.
Hamilton; and she had told him, once for all, that if she could
but serve or obUge him in any way, great or smaU, it would
make her far happier than she had ever been, or was likely tn
be in her solitary life. The letter written and despatched
Mrs. Hamilton summoned Ellen once more to her presenc*.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 289
TJie scene was again the library, where she had been wilt-
ing, and the time nearing the short twilight of October. It
was three weeks, rather more, since Sir Edward Manly 's letter
had been received, and Edward was, therefore, almost daily
expected. The feelings with which his unhappy sister looked
to his return it would be a vain attempt to define. At times
the intense longing to see him again caused a wild, almost sick
feeling of pleasure, that she might, perhaps, so soon do so ;
then came all that had passed, and she pictured hia anger, his
loathing true it had been for him, but he bad not thought of
such a deed. He would, be must hate and spurn her, too ; and
the idea of meeting him became absolute agony. Then and
she shuddered in dread would be think that be must acknow-
ledge it was for him she bad thus acted ? and, if so, had she not
betrayed instead of saving him ? Incident after incident in
their childhood rose before her, to give her hope that he would
be silent now as then, and not betray himself; but these con-
tending terrors, united wifh the constant though silent suffering
of her banishment from all she loved, the utter hopelessness as
to the end of this trial, had not been without effect on the out-
ward frame. Ellis did not see it, from so constantly watching
iier, and from Ellen never refusing ^ take the exercise she
desired her, and not making a single complaint as to the pain
it was sometimes to walk, and always to swallow her meals ;
but as she stood opposite to her aunt^ in the full light of the
oriel window her approacli had been so noiseless, Mrs. Ha^-
milton, who was bending over some papers, did not see her till
she chanced to look up the attenuation of form and feature
was 60 very visible, that her aunt could not prevent herself
from starting painfully, and the words witii which she had in-
tended to address her froze on her Ups. It was with the utmost
difficulty she refrained from folding her to her heart, and try-
ing, by every means affection could devise, to soothe or remove
that anguish, whatever its nature, far too deep and constant
for one so very young; hut how dared she do this, when, by
this determined silence, Elien so defied her authority, and
seemed so resolved that neither severity nor kindness, nor her
own siifieringa should bumble her spirit, though they had even
affected her frame ?
Conquering with a powerful effort the pleadings of affection,
Mrs. Hamilton calmly entered on the subject for \ihich she
bad. summoned her, reading to her a greater part of her uncle's
letter, hoping that its severity would spare her the pain of any
additional remarks. Every word sf;emed to bum itself on
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aOO HOME rai'LUENCE.'
Klltiii's bi-aia. What she had hoped she knew not, for eha
I liought she had never hoped at all ; but the words, " No cause
cau be excusing enough to justify the entire setting aside this
sentence," seemed by its agony to tell her that the thought had
entered her mind, if the real cause were by any chance dis-
covered would she be forgiven, and in time restored to con-
fidence and love? And now it was over, even that hope was
lira. Hamilton paused for a reply or an observation, but none
came, and she continued impressively "I can scarcely hope,
Ellen, that as even the idea of sparing yoar only brother shame
and misery, on his return home, expecting nothing but joy,
after nearly three years' separation and exposure to danger,
has had no effect in softening you, that your uncle's sentence
wOl. Once I should have believed that only the thought of
leaving me, and going to the care of a stranger, would have
urged you to speak directly. I can believe this no longer ; but
as I wish you to be with Edward, at least part of his stay with
us, I shall postpone your leaving ua, one' month from to-day.
If, indeed, Edward's inSuence be such that, for his sake, you
will make me a full confession and answer clearly and distinctly
every question I put to you, your residence with Mrs, Seldon
shall be limited to three, six, ten, or twelve months, according
to the nature of the motive of this incomprehensible and, ap-
parently most sinful conduct. If you leave ua still obdurate,
years will, in all probability, pass before we can feel suificiently
confl.dent in the restored integrity and openness of your cha-
racter to permit your return to us. The pain you are inflicting
upon me it is useless to dwell upon. As the child of my only
and most dearly loved sister, I have loved you, hoped for you,
with iittle less intensity of affection than that I have borne
toward my own ; for 1 felt that, with the sole exception of your
brother, I was the only being you had on earth united to you
by ties of blood. How tbis conduct repays my love and care
you must answer to yourself; I can only be sensible of bitter
disappointment.
Again she stopped, evidently expecting a reply, but Ellen
still remained silent. The short twilight of autumn had set in
so suddenly, that Mrs. Hamilton was not aware her niece's
cheek had become still paler, and that her white lips quivered
repeatedly, as if she several times tried to apeak, but could not.
After a silence of some minutea, she said
" If you are determined not to speak, Ellen, you may retire ;
I have told you all I wished to say, except that till you leave
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUKKCE. 291
as, tbough yoti will stiil occupy your present rooms, and be sfill
under Ellis'a care, you are at liberty to employ yourself, and go
about the house and grounds as usual."
JlUen turned to go, stOJ in that unbroken silence ; she had
i-eached the low step dividing the upper part from the lower
part of the room, and whether she did not see it, or from some
other cause, the room suddenly reeled before her, and she fell
heavily forward. To spring toward her, raise her tenderly,
bear her to the nearest couch, though she so trembled herself
at finding Ellen quite insensible, as to render the task unusually
difficult, and to ring hastily for Ellia, was the work of a minute,
but it was many minutes before their united efibrts could bring
back consciousness.
"I knew it would break her heart, poor lamb!" was Ellis's
exclamation, in a tone of most unusual excitement; "thaijk
Giod, thank God ! Master Edward's coming home, and that she
is not to go till he does,"
"Have you so much confidence in his influence ?" asked her
mistress, as, unable to resist the impulse, she bent down and
repeatedly kissed the cold brow and cheek^ to which she was so
earnestly striving to restore warmth, " Giod in mercy grant you
may be right!"
" Eight ? Dear my lady ! " (whenever Eilis was strongly
moved, she always so addressed her mistress,) "I would st^e
your confidence in me, which is all my life's worth, if Master
Edward is not at the bottom of it all, and that this poor child
is sacrificing herself for some fancied danger to him ! I saw
enough of that work when they were young children, and I have
noticed enough since she has been under my care."
" "Edward!" repeated Mrs. Hamilton, so bewildered, as to
stop for the moment chafing Ellen's cold hand; "Edwai'd!
bearing the high character he does ; what can he have to do
with it?"
"I don't know, my lady, but 1 am sure he has. Young
men, ay, some of the finest and bravest among us, get into diffi-
culties sometimes, and it don't touch their characters as their
officers see them, and Master Edward was always so terrified
at the mere thought of my master knowing any of his faults ;
but hush I we must not let her know we suspect any thjng,
poor lamb ; it will make her still more miserable. Tou are
better now, dear Miss Ellen, are you not?" she added, sooth-
ingly, as EDen feebly raised her hand to her forehead, and then
slowly unclosed her eyes, and beheld her aunt leaning over
her, with that same sxpression of anxious affection, which her
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
making
would make
mploriogly, as
292 HOME INFLUENCE.
Uluess liad bo often caused in her cliildliood. Sense, or rather
memoiy, had not quite returned, and her first words were witli
a faint but liappy smile
" I am better, dear aunt, much better ; I dai-e say I shall
soon be well." But it was only a momentary forgetfulness ;
swift as thought came the whole of what had so lately passed
her uncle's letter, her aunt's words, and i
tone how painfully changed I "I foi^ot forgiY
buried her face in the pillow.
" Ellen, my dear Ellen ! why will you persist
yourself and me so miserable, when a few words v
us happier ? " exclaimed Mrs. Hamilton, almost ii
she bent over her.
" Do not urge her now, dear laj lady, she is not well enough )
give her till Master Edward comes j I am sure she will not
resist him," answered Ellis, very respectfully, though mean-
ingly, as her look drew her mistress's attention to the shudder
which convulsed EEen^ slight frame, at the mention of her
brother.
Pained and bewildered more than ever, Mrs. Hamilton, ailer
waiting till the faintness seemed quite gone, and thinking that
if the restraint of her presence were removed, Ellen might be
relieved by tears, left her, desiring Ellis to let her know in a
short time how she was. The moment the door closed, Ellen
threw her anus round Ellb'a neck, exclaiming passionately
"Take me away talce me away, dear Ellis; I cannot bear
tlua room it seems all full of misery ! and I loved it so once,
and I shaU love it again, when I am miles and miles away, and
cannot see it nor any one belonging to it. Oh, Ellis, Ellis !
I knew you were loo land. I was too glad and contented to be
with you; it was not punishment enough for my sin -and I
must go away and I shall never, never see my aunt again
I know I shall not. Oh ! if 1 might but die first ! but I am too
wicked for that; it is only the good that die."
And almost for the first time since her sin had been discover-
ed, she gave way to a long and violent fit of weeping, which,
though terrible while it lasted, as the anguish of the young
always is, greatly relieved her, and enabled her after that day
not to revert in words (the thought never left her till a still
more fearful, anxieJy deadened it) to her uncle's sentence again.
Mrs. Hamilton sat for a very, long time alone after she had
left Ellen. Ellis's words returned to her again and ^ain so
pertinaciously, that she could not break from them. Edward 1
the cause of it all ^could it be possible ? could it be, thai
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOMJi INFLUENCE. 293
be had plunged Limself into difficulties, and afraid to appeal to
lis uncle or her, had so worked on. EUea as not only to make
her send relief, but actually so to keep his secret, as to endure
every thing rather than betay it? Circumstance after circum-
stance, fbougtt after thought, so congregated upon her, so
seemed to burst. into being, and flash light one from the other,
that her mind ached beneath their pressure. Eliea's unhappi-
Bess the day his last letter had been received, her sudden ill*
nesa had it (aken place before or after Robert had lost the
money ? She could not satisfy herself, for her husband's sud-
den summons to Feroe, hasty preparations, and departure, had
rendered all the month confused and unsatisfactory in its recol-
lections. So intense was the relief of the idea, that Mrs, Ha-
milton feared to encourage it, lest it should prove a mere fancy,
and urge softer feelings toward her niece than ought to be-
Even the supposition made her heart yearn toward her wilJi
such a feeling of love, almost of veneration, for the determined
self-devotion, so essentially woman's characteristic, that she
resolutely checked its ascendency. All her previous fancies
that Elien was no ordinary child, that early suffering and neg-
lect bad, while they produced some childish faults, matured and
deepened the capabilities of endurance and control, from the
consciousness (or rather existence, for it was not the conscious-
ness to the child herself) of strong feeling, returned to her, as
if determined io confirm EUis's supposition. The disappear-
ance of her allowance ;. her assertion, that she was seeking
Mrs. Langford's cottage, by that shorter but forbidden path, to
try and get her to dispose of her trinkets, when the wind blew
the notes (o her hand all now seemed connected one with
the other, and confirmed. She could well understand, how in
a monent of almost madness they might have been used with-
out thought, and the after-effect upon so delicate a miad and
conscience. Then, in contradiction to al! this (a mere hypo-
thesis raised on nothing firmer than Ellis's supposition.) came
the constantly favorable accounts of Edward ; his captain's
pride and confidence in him ; the seeming impossibibty that he
could get into such difficulties, and what were they ? The
aame of Harding rushed on her mind, she knew not why or
Iiow but it made her tremble, by its probable explanation of
the whole. A coarse or even less refined mind, would have
either appealed at once to Ellen, as to the truth of this suspi-
cion, or thought herself justified in looking over all Edward's
letters to his sister, as thus to discover the truth; but in Mis.
Hamilton's pure mind the idea never even entered, though all
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
294 HOME INFLCENCE.
her niece's papei-s aud lettera were in her actaa. possesiioii.
She could only feel to ter heai-t's core ivith Ellis, " Tliank
God, Master Edward's coining home ! " aud pray eamesUy that
he might be with tliem, as they hoped and anticipated, in a
few, a very few days.
CHAPTEE VJI.
THE LIGHT GLIMMERS.
The earnest wishes and prayere of Mrs. Hamilton and her
faithful Ellis were disappointed. The latter part of the month
of September had heen exceedingly stormy, and though there
was a lull from about t&e Sd to the 9th of October, the equi-
noctial gales then set In with the utmost fury ; continuing day
after day, night after night, till the ear seemed almost to tire
of the sound, and the mind, ansious for friends at sea, despair
of their cessation. Dining the few calm days, the young party
at Oakwood had scarcely been absent from the windows, or
fi-om that part of the park leading to the Plymouth road, above
an hour at a lime. Percy and Herbert rode over to Plymouth,
bnt were told the frigate could not he m for, a full week. The
late storms must have detained her, though she was a fast-sail-
ing ci-aft; It was a great disappointment to them, for on the
10th of October college term began, and they were compelled
to retiam to Oxford. The cause of their mother's intense desire
for Edward's i-etura, indeed, they did not know j but tliey were
most impatient to see him, and they hoped, they did Hot exactly
know what, with regard to hb influence with EUen. However,
the day of their departure came, and still he had not arrived,
and the storms had recommenced. Percy had gone to say
good-by to EUia, with whom Ellen chanced at that moment to
be. Full of spirits and jokes, he determinately looked away
fi-om his cousin, took both Ellis's hands, and shook them with
his usual heartiness.
" Grood-by, dear Ellis. I wonder if I shall ever feel myself
a man when, talking to you. How many tricks I have played
you in this room, and you were always so good-natured, even
when one of my seat-crackers set youv best gown on fire, and
quite spoiled it ; do you remember it ? I do think you were
nearly angry then, and quite enough to make you ; ind papa
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 29.5
made me save up my money to buy you a new dress. I did
not play such a practical joke in a hurry E^aia"
Ellis Jaugfied, and perfectly remembered it, and with another
hearty good-by he turned away.
" You have forgotten your cousin, Mr. Percy," she said, dis-
regarding EUcn's imploring look.
" "When she remembers her duty to my mother, I will re-
member that she is my cousin," was his hasty answer, and he
hurried from the room as Herbert entered. His good-by to
Ellis was quite aa warm as Percy's, and then turning to Ellen,
he put his ana round her, kissed her cheek, and said, witb im-
pressive earnestness
" God bless you, dear Ellen ! I hope you will be happier
when we meet again, and that it will not be so long before we
do, as we fancy now ; " and, affected almost to teai'S at the
grateful, humble look she raised to his, he left her.
Overcome as much by the harshness of the generous, warm-
hearted Percy,-whom she bo dearly loved, as by the gentle
kindness of Herbert, Ellen remained for several minutes with
her arms on the table, her face hid upon them. She thought
she was quite alone, for Ellis had gone about some of her busi-
ness, when she was startled by Percy's voice.
"I am a brute, Ellen, nothing less; forgive me, and say
good-by. I can't understand it at all, but angry as I am with
you, your pale face haunts me Hke a spectre, so we must part
friends ; '4 and as she looked hastily up, he kissed her warmly
twice, and ran away without another word.
Days passed heavily, the gales seeming to increase in vio-
lence, and causing Mrs. Hamilton more terrible anxiety and
vague dread than she aUowed to be visible. The damage among
the shipping was fearful, and the very supposed vicinity of the
frigate to the Channel increased the danger. The papers every
morning presented long lists of ships wrecked, or fatally dis-
mantled, loss of crews or part of them, mails and cargoes due
but missing ; and the vivid recollection of the supposed fate of
her own brother, the wretchedness of the suspense before the
fate of his vessel was ascert^ned, returned to heighten the
fears that would gain ascendency for her nephew, and for the
effect of this terrible suspense on EUen, more especially if
indeed she had endured all these weeks, nay, months, of misery
for bun.
At first Eilen seemed unconscious that thei"e was any thing
renaarkable in the delay, the thought of her own departure
bsing upj3rmost; but when the thought did press upon her,
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
296 HOME IKFLnENCE.
feow it came she knew not that of the given month the weeks
were passing, and Edward had not aiTived, and that there
muat be some re,TSonfor the long delay storm, shijiwreck
death, all flashed apon her at once, and ahnost maddened her.
The quiet cahn of endurance gave way. She could not sleep
at night from the tremendous winds ; not even when EUis had
a bed put up in har room, and remained with her all night her-
self; she neper complained indeed, but hour after hour she
would pae her room and the passage leading to Ellis's, till
compelled to cease from exhaustion ; she would try steadily to
employ herself with some difBcult study, and succeed, perhaps,
for half an hour, but then remain powerless, or recommence
her restless walk. Mrs. Hamilton made several attempts with-
out any apparent interference on her part^ to get her lo si
occasionally with her and Miss Harcourl, and her cousins, bul
she seemed to shrink from them aU. Emmeline, indeed, when
once aware of the terrible trial she was enduring, would sit
with h^r, drawing or working as if nothing had ocpurred to
estrange them, and try to cheer her by talking on many topics
of interest, Caroline would speak to her kindly whenever she
saw her. Miss Harcourt alone retained her indignation, for
no suspicion of the real cause of her silence ever entered her
Poor Ellen felt that she dared not indulge in the comfort this
change in her aunt's and cousins' manner produced. She wajited
to wean herself quite from them, that the pang of separation
might be less severe, but she only seemed to succeed in loving
them more. One thought, indeed, at length took such entire
possession of her mind, as to deaden every other : it was the
horrible idea that, as she had sinned to save Edward, perhaps,
from merited disgrace, he would be taken fi-om her ; she never
breathed it, but it iaunted her night and day. Mr. Maitland
saw her continually, but ho plainly told Mrs. Hamilton while
the cause of an^idety and mehtal suffering lasted he could do
her no good. It was a constant alternation of fearful excitement
and complete depression, exhausting the whole system. Eepose
nnd kindness alas ! the latter might be given, but tlie former,
io.the present position of affairs, how could it be insured?
The month of grace w^ waning ; only two days remained,
and Edward had not arrived, and how could Mrs. Hamilton
obey her husband whose every letter reiterated his hope that
she had not been prevmled on to alter his sentence, if Ellen
BtJU remained silent and send her niece from her? She cama
ftt length to the determination, that if another week passed and
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HOME ISFLUENCE. 297
6tUI (bere veve no tidings, not to let this fearful self-sairiflce,
if it really were such, last any longer, but gently, cautioiisly,
tenderly as she conld, prevail on Ellen to confide all to her,
and promise, if Edward really had been erring and in difficulties,
oil should be forgiyen for her sake, and even his uncle's auger
avei-ted. Once her determination taken, she felt better enabled
to endure an anxiety which was injuring her almost as much as
Ellen ; and she turned to Ellis's room, which she had lately
very often frequented, for she scarcely felt comfortable when
Ellen was out of her sight, though she had full confidence in
EUia'a caxe.
, EUen was asleep on a sofa, looking so wan, ao hazard so
altered from the Ellen of five short months back, that Mrs.
Hamilton eat down by her side, pondering whether she was
doing right to wait even another week, before she should try
to bring relief by avowing her suspicions but would it bring
relief? and, after all, was it for Edward? or, had she been
allowing affection and imagination to mislead and soften, when
sternness might still be needed?
Ellen woke with a start as from some fearful dream, and
gazed at Mrs. Hamilton for a full minute, as if she did cot
know her,
"My dear Ellen, what is it? You have been' sleeping un-
comfortably surely you know me?"
"I thought I was at at Seldon Grange are you sure I
am not? Dear aunt Emmeline, do tell me I am at Oakwood,
I know I am to go, and very soon ; but I am not there now,
am I?" and she put one hand to her forehead, and gazed hur-
riedly and fearfully round her, while, with the other, she held
tightly Mrs. Hamilton's dress. There was something alarming
both in her look and tone.
"No, love, you are with me still at Oakwood, and you will
not go from me till you have been with Edward some litlla
time. You cannot think I would send you away now, Ellen?"
The soothing tone, her brother's name, seemed to disperse
(he cloud, and bursting into tears, she exclaimed
"He will never come I know he will never come my
sin has killed him ? "
"Your sin, Ellen, what can that have to do with Edward?'
"Because," the words "it was for him" were actually on her
lips; but they were checked, and, in increasi^lg excitemrnt, she
eontinuedl "Nothing, nothing, indeed, with him what could
ithave? But if he knows it oh, it will so grieve him; per-
haps It would bo better I should go before he comes and
then, then, he need not know it; if, indeed, he ever comes."
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298 HOME INFLUENCE.
'I do not think you quite know what you are saying, lay
dear Ellen; your uncomfortable dream has unsettled you. Try
and keep quiet for an hour, and you will be better. Remember,
suffering as this dreadful suspense is, your brother is still in a
Father's gracious keeping ; and that He will listen to ycur
prayera for hia safuty, and if it be His good pleasure, still
restore him to you."
"My prayers," answered Ellen, fearfully. "Mr. Howard
said, there was a barrier between Him and me, while I would
not confess ; I had refused Hia mercy."
"Can you confess before God, Ellen? Can you lay your
whole heart open before Him, and ask Him in his infinite
mercy, and for your Saviour'a sake, to forgive you?"
"I could, and did do so, answered Ellen, returning Mrs.
Hamilton's earnestly inquiring look, by raising her large, ex-
pressive eyes, steadily and fearlessly, to her face; "but Mr.
Howard told me it was a mockery and sin to suppose God
would hear me or forgive me while I refused to obey Him, by
being silent and obdurate to you. That if I wished Hia for-
giveness, I must prove it by telling the whole to you, whom
His commandnienla desired me to obey, and and as I dared
not do that, I have been afraid to pray." And the shudder
with which she laid her head again upon the pillow, betrayed
the misery of the fear.
"And is it impossible, quite impossible that you can confide
the source of your grief and difficulty to me, Ellen ? WUl you
not do so, even if I promise foi^iveness, not merely to you, bat
to all who may have erred? Answer me, my sweet child; your
silence is fearfully injuring your mind and body. Why do
you fancy you dare not tell me ? "
" Because, because I have promised ! " answered Ellen, in a
fearful tone of returning excitement, and, sitting upright, she
clasped her hands convulsively together, while her cheek burned
with painful brilliancy. "Aunt Emmeline oh, do not, pray
do not speak to me in that kind tone I be harsh and cold again,
I can bear it bettor. If you did but know how my heai-t and
brain a^he how they long t tell you and so rest but 1 can-
not 1 dare not I have promised."
' 'And you may not tell me whom you Lave promised ? " re-
plied Mrs. Hamilton, every former thought rendered apparently
null and vain by these words, and pwnfully disaj- pointing her;
but the answer terrified her.
"Mamma I protfiised her, and she stands by me so pali,
BO grieved, whenever 1 think of telling you," answered Ellen.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME IKFLL'tXCE. 299
olin^iig to Mrs. Hamilton, but looking with a straLied gaze of
terror oa vacanej. "I thought I must liaye told jcu, when you
said I was to go to go lo Seldon Grange but she stood by
tne and laid her hand on my head, and it was so cold, so heavy,
I don't remember any thing more till I found you and Ellis
leaning oyer me; but I ought not to tell you even this. I know
I ought not for look look, aunt Emmelinel don't you
Bee mamma there quite close to me ; oh, tell her to forgive
me I will keep my promise," and shuddering convulsively,
die hid her fece in her aunt's dress.
Mrs. Hamilton was dreadfully alarmed. Whatever the
foundation, and she had no doubt that there was some, and that
it really had to do with Edward and his poor mother's mistaken
partiality, EUen'3 imagination was evidently disordered. To
^ittempt obtaining the truth, while she was in this fearful state
of excitement, was as impossible aa cruel, and she tried only to
soothe her to composure ; speaking of her mother as happy and
in Heaven and that Ellen had thought of her so much, aa was
quite natural in her sojtow, that she fancied she saw her.
"It is not reality, love ; if she could see and speak to you, I
am sure it would be to toll you to confide all your sorrow to
me, if it would make you happier."
"Oh, no, no I should be very wicked if it made me hap-
pier; I ought not even to wish to tell you. But Mr. Myrvin told
me, even when, mamma went to Heaven, she would still see me,
and know if I kept my promise, and tried to win her love, by
doing wliat I know she wished, even after she was dead ; and it
was almost a pleasure to do so till now, even if it gave me pain
and made me unhappy; but now,now, aunt Emmeline, I know
you must bate me ; you never, never can love me again and
that that is so hard to bear."
" Have you forgotten, my dear Ellen, the blessed assurance,
iJiere is more joy in Heaven over one sinner that repenteth,
than over ninety-and-nine who have not sinned ? and if our
Father in Heaven can so feel, so act, are His creatures to do
icss? Do you think, because you have given me pain, and
farouble and disappointment, and compelled me to use such ex-
treme severity, and cause you so much suffering, that it will be
quite impossible for me to love you again, if I see yoti do all
you can to win back that love ? "
EUea made no answer ; but the alarming excitement had so
far subsided, as to raise the hope that quietness would subdue
it altogether. Mrs. Hamilton remained with her till she seem-
ed quite cahn, and would not have left her then, but she had
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
SOO HOME ISFLUEtiCE.
promised Caroline to diive with her into T that afteriwion,
to maie some purchases ; Emineline and Miss Ilarcourt wera
spending the day at Greville Manor, and her daughter depend-
ii^ oa her, she did not like to disappoint her. But the difficulty
to think of other things, and cheerfully conyerse on comparar-
tively inditferent to^cs, was greater than she had ever found it.
That Ellia'a surmise was correct, she had no longer the smallest
doubt. EUen was sacrificing herself, not merely for the love
she bore her brother, but from some real or imaginary promise
to her poor mother. What its exact nature was, she could not
indeed satisfy herself, but that it had something to do wilJi con-
cealing Edward's faults seemed to flash upon her, she hardly
knew how. Ellis's words " that she had seen enough of that
work when they were children," returned to ber, and various
incongruities in Ellen's character and conduct which she had
been unable to reconcile at the time, all seemed connected with
it. But to arrive at tlie truth was much more difficult than
ever ; still, how could she send EUen away ? and yet, if stiil
silent, would mere surmise satisfy her husband ? There was
but one hope, one ray of light Edward's own honor, if indeed
he were permitted to return ; and even while driving and talk-
ing with Caroline, her heart was one fervent prayer that this
might be, and the fearful struggie of her devoted EUen cease.
Her aunt's gentle and unexpected kindness had had sueh a
heneficial effect on Ellen, that, after her early dinner, about
three o'clock, she told Ellis she would go in the school-room,
and try and read there for an hour ; she knew all the family
were out, and therefire would be quite undisturbed. Ellis
wiUingly acquiesced, rejoicing that she should seek any change
herself, and advised her, as it was such a mOd, soft aiternoon,
after the late storms, to take a turn on the terrace, on which a
glass-door from the school-room opened ; it would do her good.
Ellen meant to take her advice, hut as she looked out from a
window over a well-remembered landscape, so many painful
thoughts and recollections crowded on her, that she lost all in-
clination to move. She had not stood there for many weeks,
and it seemed to her that the view had never looked so very
lovely. The trees all had the last glories of iutumn for it
was early in November the grass was of that bcsutiful
humid emerald which always follows heavy rain, and rhough
the summer-flowers had all gone, the sheltered beds of the
ffardea, lying beneath the terrace, presented many very beauti-
ful still. The end of the terrace, a flight of stone steps, over-
looked the avenue, leading from the principal lodge to the main
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. SOI
entrance, and wliere EUen stood, she could distinguish a few
yards of the path where it issued from some distant trees. She
gazed at first, conscious only that she was hanished from it all,
and that, however long her departure might be deferred, she
must go at last, for her uncle's mandate could not he disobeyed ;
but gradually her eye became fixed as in fascination, A single
figure was emerging from the trees, and dressed in the uniform
of a midshipnian she was sure it was I hut it was a figure so
tall, so slim, his step so lingering, it could not be Edward, most
likely some one of his messmates come to tell his fate. He was
laller even than Percy, but so much slighter, so different to the
hoy from whom she had parted, that, though her heart bounded
and sunk till faintness seemed to overpower her, she could not
convince herself it was he. With an almost unconscious effort
she ran out, through tlie glass-door to the steps of the terrace
she could now see him distinctly, but not his face, for his cap
was low over his forehead j but as he approached, he paused,
as if doubting whether to go up to the hall door, or the well-
known terrace, by which he had a!#ays rushed into the school-
room, on his daily return from Mr. Howard's ; and as he looked
hastily up, his cap felt back, and his eyes met Ellen's. A wild
but checked scream broke from her lips, and all was an im-
penetrable mist till she found herself in her brother's arms, in
the room she had quitted, his lips repeatedly pressing her cheek
Pud forehead, and hia voice, which sounded so strange it did
not seem like Edward's, it was so much more deep and manly
entreating her to speak to him, and teU him why she looked so
iU ; but still her heart so throbbed she could not speak. She
could only cling close to him and look intently in his faee, which
was so altered fi-om the happy, laughing boy, that had he not
been, from hia extreme paleness and attenuation of feature,
still more like their mother when she was ill, his sister would
scarcely have known him.
" Dearest Ellen, do speak !o me ; what has been the matter,
that you look so pale and sad ? Are you not glad to see me ? "
" Glad I oh, Edward, you cannot know how glad ; 1 thought
you would never, never come, (he storms have been so terrible ;
I have been ill, and your sudden appearance startled me, for I
had thought of such dreadful things, and that was the reason I
could not speak at first ; but I am sure you are as pale as I am,
deal', dear Edward ; you havii been wounded have you not
recovered them yet ? "
" My wounds, Ellen ! oh, they were sUght enough ; I wished
and tried for them to be severer, to Lave done for me at pnnft
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
"802 HOME INFLUENCE.
bi!t tliey would not, tliey only bought me praise, praise which
maddened me ! "
" Sir Edward," mui-mured Ellen, in a low, fearful voice, " how
did he part with you ? "
"As he has always treated me, a kind, too kind father 1 oh,
Ellen, Ellen, if he did but know tlie deceiriug villaia that I
" Would he indeed not forgive, Edward, if he so loves you ?
not if he knew all, the temptation, the "
" Temptation, Ellen ! what excuse ought there to be in
temptation ? Why was I such a fool, such a madman, to allow
myself la be lured into error again and again by that villain,
after I had discovered his double face, and I had been warned
againat him, too ? Why did I sq madly disregard Mr. How-
ard's and my uncle's warning letters, trusting my self-will and
folly, instead of their experience ? Brave I I am the veriest
coward that ever trod the deck, because I could not bear a
"And he? are you still" within his power?" inquired Ellen,
shrmlcing in terror from the expression of her brother's face.
" No, Ellea, no ; God forgive me I have tried not to re-
joice ; the death was so terrible, so nearly my own, that I stood
appalled, and, for the first time these two years, kuelt down to
my God for pardon, mercy to repent. The lightning struck him
where he stood, struck him beside me, leaving the withering
smile of derisive mockery, with which he had that moment been
regarding me, still on his Kps, Why, and where had he gone ?
he, who denied Gd and hia holy Word, turned the solemn
service into mockery, and made me hke himself and why was
I spared ? Oh, EUen, I have no words to describe the sensation
of that moment ! " He stopped, and shuddered, then continued,
hurriedly, " Changed as I am in appearance, it is nothing to the
change within. I did not know its extent till now that I am
here again, and all my happy boyhood comes before me ; aunt
Emmeline's gentle lessons of piety and goodness oh, Ellen,
Ellen, what have been their fruits ? For two years I have
given myself up to passion, unrestrained by one word, one
thought of prayer ; I d^'ed, sinful madman as I was, to make
a compact with my own conscience, and vow, that if I received
the relief I expected from you, and was free from Harding, I
would reform, would pray for the strength to resist temptation,
wliich I had not in myself; and when, whea the man that was
despatched by Sir Edward from the shore, with the letters for
the crew, sunk beneath the waves, bearing every despatch along
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HOME INFLUENCE, 303
wilU him, I cursed tim, and the Fate, whicK had oi'dained his
death, Ellen, Ellen ! why was I saved, and Harding killed ? "
"And jou never received my letter, Edward P Never knew
if I had tried to relieve you from Harding's power ? " answered
Ellen, becoming so deadly pale, that Edward forced hiraself to
regain composure ; the nature of his Laformation causing such
a revulsion of feeling in his sister as to deadea her to the horror
of his words. For what had all this suffering been ?
" I was sure you had, EUen, for you always did, and I could
trust you as I could myself. A sudden squall had upset the
boat, and the man was so encumbered by a large great-coat,
every pocket filled with letters and papers, that he sunk at once
though every help was offered. I threw myself into the sea to
save him, and Lieutenant Morley praised my courage and bene-
volence little did he know my motive I Besides, Sir Edward
told me there was an Inclosure for me in my uncle's to him, and
regretted he had not kept it to give it me himself would to
Heaven he had? Till Harding's death I was in his power;
and he had so used it, that I had vowed, on our anival in Eng-
lanl to abscond, hide myself forever, go I cared not where,
m what character ! But he is dead, and I am free ; my
a n d be told to none, and if I can I will break from this
a a p U, and redeem the past ; but it seems, as if fienda
u dm still to the path of evD I Would that I had but co-
ag 11 all to Mr. Howard, I should be safer then ; but I
a cannot the risk is too great Carriage wheels ! "
he added, starting up "my aunt and Caroline; oh, howl re-
joiced when they told me at the lodge that my uncle was not
here ! " And in his extreme agitation at the thought of meet-
ing his aunt, he forgot his sister, or he might have been slartlea
at the effect, oi" his words.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE BTE0GGLE.
Mrs. Hamilton had been told at the lodge of her ne phew'a
arrival, and so powerful was her emotion, that she leaned bak
in the carriage, as it drove rapidly from the lodge to the Hall,
without the power of uttering a word. Caroline was surprised,
.V Google
804 HOME INFLUEXCE.
for hia return seemed to her only a cause of rejoicing ; sLe had
no idea of the mingled dread and joy, the trembling, lest Ed-
ward had indeed deceived them aU, and, if he tad not, the re-
doubled mystery of EDen's conduct While he was absent she
could thmk calmly on him as the cause of all, but now that he
was retamed, her heart seemed to turn sick with apprehension,
and she had hardly strength to inquire where he was, and great
was her surprise when she found hie arrival was still unknown.
Caroline's joyful exclamation as she ran into the school-room
to put away some of her purchases, drew her there at once ;
and for the first five minutea the intense thankfulness that he
was indeed safe and comparatively well that whatever might
be the secret change, his affection for her, to judge by the
warmth and agitafiott of his embrace, was unchanged, and she
had that to work on, alone occupied her mind and enabled her
to regain her calmness.
"You do indeed look as if you wanted English air and home
nursing, my dear boy," she said, after some little time had
elapsed, and Edward had seated himself by her, his hand still
(dasped in hers; "Sir Edward was quite right to invalid you.
Emmeline does nothing but talk of your wounds as making you
a eomplet* hero; I am unromanlic enough to wish that you had
brought me home more color and more flesh, and less glory;
but, I suppose from being so pale, you are more like your poor
mother than ever;" and she looked at him so earnestly, that
Edward's eyes, spite of all his efibrts, sunk beneath hers. He
answered gayly, however, and, in reply to Caroline's numerous
queries, entered into an animated description of their voyage
home and the causes of their detention, in their being so often
compelled to put into port from the fe^ful storms they had
encountered, and time slipped away so fast that the dinner-bell
rung before any one was prepared.
That Ellen should look paler than even when she had left
her in Oie morning, and be still more silent, did not astonish
Mrs. Hamilton ; the agitation of meeting her brother was quite
enough lo occasion it; and she advised her to remain quiet
while they were at dinner, that she might rejoin them afterward.
She looked as if she had been so very lately ill, that Edward
was not surprised at her having dined stlready; but many little
things that occurred during the evening her excessive quiet-
ness, the evident restraint between her and Caroline, and, he at
first fancied, and then was quite certain, between her and his.
aunt, startled and perplexed him. She seemed restrained and
shy, too. with him, as if in coostant terror. Poor child! hef
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HOME IKFLUENCE. 305
Ruut had advised quietness wliile alone, and her hrotlier'a words
mng ia her ears, till repose seemed farther off than ever. After
all she had suffered befbre, and after the sending that fittal let-
ter, it had never reached him: she had utterly failed in her at-
tempt to save him. If she had, indeed, confided at first in Mrs.
Hamilton, measures would have been taken, she was sure, to
have secured him the necessary rehef, for whenever her uncle
had sent him his allowance it was through Sir Edward, not en-
countering the risk of the loss of the letter. There had been
times when, in the midst of her sufferings, Ellen could realize
a sort of comfort in the idea that she had saved Edward and
kept his secret; but where was this comfort now? All she had
endured, all. she was still to endure, was for nothing, worse than
nothing; for if Edward knew her sin, feeling that it had brought
him no good, and given up, as she felt he must be, to unrestrain-
ed passion, or he could not have given vent to such fearful sen-
timents, she actually trembled for its effect upon him and his
anger on herself. She had sometimes fencied that, perhaps, hia
errors were not so great as he believed them, that he would
confess them when he found only his kind, indulgent annt at
home, and so peace and hope gradually- dawn for bofli him and
her. All her wish, her hope now was that Mrs. Hamilton
could be prevailed upon not to tell him what she had done, for
whether it made him think he ought'to confess himaeff its cause
or not, its effect on him would be so terrible, that she felt any
additional suffering to herself could be better borne.
With these thoughts, no wonder she was silent, utterly un-
able to subdue them as she wishec), and evince natural interest
in all that had occurred to Edward ; and tell him aU that had
happened to herself during their long separation. Caroline,
however, was so animated; and when Emmeline and Miss
Harcourt returned, unable to comprehend what they could pos-
sibly be sent for a full hour earlier than usual, the astonishment
and delight at seeing Edward, prevented any thing like a pause
in conversation, or unnatural restraint. His cousins found so
much to tell as well as to listen to, about Percy and Herbert,
OS well as themselves ; and Emmeline made Edward tell her
BUch minute particulars of their engagements with the pirates,
and how he was wounded, and what Sir Edward said to him,
that Mrs. Hamilton, anxious as she was for the longer she
was with her nephew, the more convinced she was that he
nould not meet her aye, and that his gayety waa not natural
could not help being amused id spite of herself
Engrossed with thought how to arrive at the trnlh, for which
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
806 HOME INFLUENCE.
she ardently longed, sie entered' the library, when the prayer-
bell rung, with ier children ; quite forgetting, till she bad taken
the place at the reading-desk, which, in the absence of her
husband and sons, she always occupied herself, that she had
intended to desire Ellen to resume her usual place by Emme-
line, wishing to spare her any additional Suffering the first
night of Edward's return, and to prevent any painful feeling on
his part, It was an oversight, btit it vexed her exceedingly.
She looked hastily round, in the hope of being in time, but
Ellen was already in her place, though she had evidently
shrunk still more into the recess of the lower window, as if
longing for its massive curtains to hide her, and her face was
buried in her hands. Mrs. Hamilton would have been still
more grieved, if she had seen, as Ellis did, the beseeching,
humble look, which, as they entered, Ellen bad iixed upon her,
and that her pale lips had quivered with the half-uttered sup-
plication, which she fiuled in courage to ftiUy pronounce. Ed-
ward appeared too 'wrapped in his own thoughts to notice it
then ; and as his aunt's gentle but impressive voice fell on his
ear, the words, the room, the whole scene so recalled the
happy, and coniiaratively innocent past, that it was with difii-
culty be could restrain his feelings, tiD the attitude of kneeling
permitted them full vent in tears, actual tears, when he baiJ
thought he could never weep again. The contrast of his past
and present self, rendered the one more brightly happy, the
other more intensely dark than the actual reality. The un-
checked faults and passions of his early childhood had been the
sole cause of his present errors ; but, while under the gentle
control of his aunt and uncle, and Mr. Howard, he had not
known these faults, and, therefore, believed they had all come
since. He longed intensely to confide all his errora, all his re-
morse, to Mr. Howard, whom he sdll so dearly loved; but he
knew he had not courage to confess, and yet hated himself for
his cowardice.
Only too well accustomed to control he banished every trace
of tears (from all save the eye rendered even more than usual-
ly penetrating from anxiety) as he arose, and became aware,
for the first lime, that Ellen was not where he was accustomed
to see her. He kissed her fondly as she hurriedly approached
him; but perceiving she left the room with merely a faint
good-night to the rest of the family, and no embrace, as usual,
from Mrs. Hamilton, he darted forward, seized his aunt's hand,
and exclaimed
" What is the mattei . -.tb Ellen, aunt Emmeline ? Why is
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HOME mi'LUENCE. 307
Bhe so changed, and why is your mannet to her so cold and
distant ? and why did she kneel apart, as if unworthy to join
us even in prayers ? Tell me, for pity's sake 1 "
"Not to-night, my dear Edward. It is a long tale, and a
p^ful one, and I rely on you to help me, that Ellen and my-
self may be again as we have been. It is as ranch pain to me
as to her that we are not. To-morrow, I promise you, you
shall know all. You have had excitement enough for !o-day,
and after your exhausting voyage must need rest. Do not
fancy this an evasion of your request; I have longed for your
return to influence Ellen, almost as much as for the happiness
of seeing you again."
Edwai-d was compelled to he satisfied and retire ; but though
he did feel snfBcient physical exhaustion, for the comfort of hit,
room to be unusually luxurious, his sleep was r^tlcss and dis
turbed by frightful dreams, in which, however varied the posi-
tion, it always seemed that he was in danger, and Eilcn sacri-
ficing herself to save him.
On retiring for the nighty Mrs. Hamilton discovered a note
on her dressing-table. She thought she knew the wi'iling, but'
from tremulousness it was so neai'Iy illegible, tliat it was with
great difliculty she deciphered the foDowing words :
"I am so conscious I ought not to address you, know so well
that I have no right to ask any favor from you, when I have
given you so much ti'ouble and pain, that I could not have
asked it, if you had not been so very, very kind this morning.
Oh ! aunt Emmeline, if indeed you can foel any pity for me,
do not, pray, do not tell Edward the i-eal reason of my banish-
ment from Oakwood ; fIl him I have been very wicked havfe
refused to evince any real repentance but do not tell him
what I have done. He is ill, unhappy at Laving to resign his
profession even for a few months. Oh ! spare him the misery of
knowing my sin, I know I deserve nothing but severity from'
you I have no right to ask this but,ohI if you have ever
loved me, do not refuse it. If you would but grant it, would
but say, before I go, that in time you will forgive me, it would
be sudt comfort to lie miserable Ellen."
Mrs. Hamilton's eyes filled with tears; the word "i/our"
had evidently been written originally, but partial y erased, and
" the " substituted in its stead, and she could not read the utter
desolation of one so young, which that simple incident betrayed,
without increase of pain ; yet to grant her request was impossi-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
BOS aOME fflFLUKKCE.
ble. It puzzled her for why should she so persist in tie
wish expressed from the heginniog, (hat Edwfird should not
know it ? unleea, indeed and her heart hounded with the
hope that she feared it would urge him to confess himself
the cause, and her sacrifice he nseJess. She locked up the
note, which she would not read again, fearing its deep humility,
its earnest suppUcation, would turn her from her purpose, and
in praying fervently for guidance and fitful sleep, hei night
passed.
For some time after hreakfast the following moroing, Ed-
ward and his aunt were alone together in the library. It was
with the utmost difficulty, he suppressed, sufficiently to conceal,
the fearful agitation which thrilled through every nerve as he
listened to the tale he had demanded. He could not doubt
the use to which that money had been applied. His sister's
silence alone would hare confirmed it ; but in that hour of
madness for wliat else Is passion unrestrained by principle
or feeling ? he was only conscious of anger, fierce anger,
against the unhappy girl who had borne so much for him. He
had utterly forgotten the desperate woi-ds he had written. He
had never received the intended reiief. Till within a week, a
short week of his return, he had been in Harding's power, and'
as Ellen's devotion had saved him nothing, what could it weigh
against fie maddening conviction, (hat if he had one spark of
honor remaining, he must confess thai, he had caused her sin ?
Instead of saving, she had betrayed him ; and he left hia aunt
to seek Elien, so evidently disturbed and heated, and the inter-
view itself had been so little satisfactory in softening him, as,
she had hoped, to win hitn to confession at once, for she had
purposely spoken as indulgently of error and difficulty as she
could, without betraying her strengthened suspicions, that if she
liad known how to do so, she would have forbidden his seeing
Ellen till he was more calm.
Unhappily, too, it was that part of the day when Ellis was
always most engaged, aad she was not even in her own room,
so that there was no check on Edward's violence. The control
he had exercised while with his aunt but increased passion
when it was removed. Ho poured forth the bitterest re-
proaches asked how she could dare hope relief so obtained,
would ever have been allowed to reach him ? what had she
done but betrayed him ? for how could he be such a dishon red
coward as to let her leave Oakwood because she would not
sfeak ? and why had she not spoken ? why not b itrayed him
tU once, and not decoyed him home (o disgrace a.id misery ?
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HOME INFLUENCE. 309
Passion had sc maddened him that he neither knew what he
said himself, nor heard Jier imploring entreaties not to betray
himself and she never would. She clung to his knees as she
kneeled before him, for she was teo powerless to stand, reite-
rating her supplication in a tone that ought to have recalled
him to his better self, but that better self had been too long
silenced, ajid infuriated at her convulsive efforts to detain liim,
he struck her with sufficient force to make her, more by the
agony of a blow from him, tban the pain itself, loose her hold
at once, and dartd from the room.
The hall door was open, and he rushed through it nnseen
info the park, flying he neither knew where nor cared, but
plunging into the wildest part. How' he arrived at one par-
ticular spot he knew not, for it was one which, of all othere, in
that moment of excitement, he would gladly have avoided. It
was a small glade in the midst of the wood, shelving down to
the water's edge, where he and Percy, with the assistance of
Eobert, had been permitted to erect a miniature boat-house,
and where Edward liad kept a complete flotUla of tiny vessels.
There were the trees, llie glade, the boat-house still, ay, and
the vessels, in such beautiful repak and keeping, that it brought
back the past so vividly, so overpoweringly, from the voiceless
proof which it was of Uie affectionate remembrance with which
he and his favorite tastes had been regarded, even in his ab-
sence, that he could not bear it. He flung himself full length
on the greensward, and as thought after thought came back
upon him, bringing Ellen before him, self-sacrificing, devoted,
always interposing between him and anger, as she had done
from the first hour they had been inmates of Oakwood, the
thought of that craven blow, those mad reproaches, was insup-
portable ; and he sobbed for nearly an hour in that one spot,
longing that some chance would hut bring Mr, Howard to him,
that he might relieve that fearful remorse at once ; but utterly
unable to seek him of himself.
Edward's disposition, like his mother's, was naturaUy much
too good for the determined pursuit of evil. Hia errors had
actually been much less grave, than from Harding's artful repre-
sentations he imagined them. He never indulged in passion
without its being followed by the most agonized remorse ; but
from having pertinaciously banished the religion which his aunt
had so tried to instil, and been taught by Harding to scoff at
the on]y safe guide for youth, as for every age, God's holy Word,
he had nothing whereon to lean, either as a comfort in his remorse,
a hope fjr am.endment, or strength for seif-conquett ; a id terrii
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HOME lilFL-OENCK.
stronger.
Two liours after he had quitted his aunt, he i-ejoined the
family, tranquil, but bearing such evident traces of a mental
struggle, at least so Mrs. Hamilton fancied, for no one else
noticed it, that she stiU hoped ehe did not exactly know what,
for she failed in courage to ask the issue of his interview with
Eilcn. She contented herself with desiring Emmeline to tell
hep cousin to bring her work or drawing, and join them, and
she was so surprised, when Emmeline brought back woi'd that
EUen had said she had much rather not, that slie sought her
herself.
Ellen's cheeks, in general so pale, were crimson, her eyes in
consequence unnaturally hrilhant, and she looked altogether so
unlike herself, that her aunt was more anxious than ever; noi
did her manner, when asked why she refused lo join them,
when Bdwai-d had so lately returned, tend to deci-ease the
" Emmehae did not say you desired it, or 1 should have known
better than disobey," was her reply, and it was scarcely disre-
speclful ; the tone seemed tliat of a spirit, crushed and goaded
to the utmost, and so utterly unable to contend more, though
every nerve was quiveringwith pain. Mrs. Hamilton felt bitter
pain that EUen at length did indeed shrink from her; that the
disregard of her entreaty concerning her brother appeared so to
have wounded, that it Imd shaken the affection which no other
Buffering had had power to move.
" I do not desire it, EUen, though I wish it, she replied,
mildly ; " you are of course at liberty to act as you please,
though I should have thought it most natural that, not having
been with Edward so long, you should wish to he with him as
much as possible now he is at home."
" He will not wish it ; he hates me, spurns me, as I knew he
would, if he knew my sia ! To-day I was to have gone to
Seldon Grange ; let me go at once ! then neither he, nor you,
nor any one need be tormented with me any more, and you will
all be happy again ; let me go, aunt Emmeline ; what should I
stay for?"
"If you wish it, EUen, you shall go next week. I did not
ima^ne that under any circumstances, you could have expressed
a desire to leave me, or suppose that It would make me par-
ticularly happy to send you away."
"Why should it not? you must hate me, too, or or you
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HOME INFLUENCE, 311
would not have refused the only only favor 1 asked you before
I went," answered poor Elian, and the voice, which had been
unnaturally clear, was choked for the moment with sobs, which
she resolutely forced back. Mrs. Hamilton could scarcely bear
it; faking her ice-cold hands in hoik hers, she said, almost
tenderly
"You hav3 reason to condemn me as harsh and cruel, Ellen;
but time will perhaps explain the motives of my conduct, as I
trust and pray it will solve the mystery of yours ; you are not
well enough to be left long alone, and Ellis is so much engaged
W-day that I do wish you to be with me, independent of your
brother's society. If you so much prefer remaining here, I will
stay with you, though of course, as Edward has been away
from us so long, I should wish to be with him also."
It was almost the first time Mrs. Hamilton had ever had
recourse in the management of her family to any thing that was
not perfectly straightforward ; and though her present motives
would have hallowed much deeper atratagems, her pure mind
shrunk from her own words. She wished Elien to be constantly
in Edwai-d's presence, that he might not be able to evade the
impulse of feelijig and honor, which the sight of such suffering,
she thought, must call forth; she could not bear to enforce thi-
wish as a command, when she had already been, as she felc if
EUen'a silence were indeed self-devotioa, not guUt so cruelly
and so unnecessarily severe. Ellen made neither reply nor
resistance, but, taking up her work, accompanied her aunt to
the usual morning-room, from which mauy a burst of happy
laughter, and joyous tones were echoing. Carohne and Emme-
line, were so full of enjoyment at Edward's return, had bo many
things to ask. and teD, were so perfectly unsuspicious as to his.
liaving any concern with his sister's fault, that if they did once
or twice think him less lively and joyous, than when he lefl
home, they attributed it simply to his not having yet recovered
the exhausting voyage and his wounds. Miss Hai-court, just as
unsuspicious, secretly accused Ellen as the cause of his occa-
sional abstraction : her conduct was not likely to pass nnfelt by
one so upright, so honorable, and if he had been harsh with her,
as from Ellen's fearfully shrinking manner, and complete silence
when they were together, she fencied, she thought it was so
deserved, that she had no pity for her whatever.
The day passed briskly and happily enough, in seeming to
Mrs. Hamilton and Edward, in reaMty to all the other members
of the party but one. The great subject of regret was Mr.
Howard's absence; he might be back at the rectory that eve-
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0V2 HOME INFLUENCE.
ning, and Emmeliim waa sure he would come to see Edward
directly. As the hours waned, Ellen became sensible of a sharp
and most unusual pain darting through her temples, and gra-
dually extending over her forehead and head, till she could
scarcely moFe her eyes. It had come at first so suddenly, and
lasting so short a time, that she could scarcely define what it
was, or why she should have felt so suddenly sick and faint
but it increased, till there was no difficulty in tracing it, and be*
fore prayer-time, had become such fearful agony, that, if she
had not been inured to psun of all kinds, and endowed with
extraordinary fortitude and control, she must more than once
have betrayed it by either giving way to faintness, or scream-
ing aloud. She had overheard Mrs. Hamilton desire Kobert
to request Mr. Maitland to come to Oakwood as soon as be
could, and not hearing the reply that he was not expected
home till late at night, expected him every moment, and
thought he would give her something to relievo it, without her
complaining.
Edward had asked his cousins for some music, and then to
please Emmeline, had sketched the order of their engagement
with the pirates, and no one noticed her, for Mrs. Hamilton's
heart was sinking with disappointed hope, as the hours passed,
and there was no sign to prove that her surmise was correct,
and if it were, that the truth would be obtained.
The prayer-bell rung, and as they rose, Edward's eyes", for
the first time since she had joined them, sought and fixed them-
selves on his sister's face. The paroxysm of pain had for a
few minutes subsided, as it had done alternately with violence
all day, but it had left her so ghastly pale, that he started in
actual terror. It might have been fancy, but he thought there
was the trace of his cowardly blow on her pale forehead, raised,
and black, and such a feeling of agony and remorse rushed
over him, that it was with difficulty he restrained himself from
catching her iii his arms, and beseeching her forgiveness before
them all; but there was no time then, and they proceeded U
the library. Every step Ellen took appeared to bring back
that fearful pain, till as she sat down, and then knelt in her
place, she was sensible of nothing else.
The service was over ; and as Mrs. Hamilton rose from the
private prayer, with which each individual concluded his devo-
tions, her nephew stood before her, white as marble, but with
an espression of fixed resolution, which made her heart bound
up "vrith hope, at the very moment it turned sick and faint wilh
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HOME INFLUENCE. 313
Several of lUe lower domestics liad quitted, the library before
Edward regained voice, and his first word, or rafter action, was
to desire those that remaiied to stay.
"My sister liaa been disgraced, exposed before you all," he
exclaimed, in a tone of misery and determination, that so start-
led Miss Harcourt and his cousins, they gazed at him bewilder-
ed, "and before you all must be her exculpation. l was less
for her sia than her silence, and for the increased guilt which
that appeared to conceal, you tell me, she has been so severely
treated. Aunt Emmeline, Jam the cause of her silence I
was the tempter to her sin I have deceived my commander,
deceived my officers, deceived you all and instead of being
what you believe me, am a gambler and a villain. She has
saved me again and again from discovery and disgrace, and but
for her sin and its consequences would have saved me now.
But what has sin ever done but to betray and render wretched ?
Take EUen back lo your love and care, aunt Emmehue, and
tell my uncle, teU Sir Edward the wretch I am ! "
For a full minute after these unexpected, startling words
there was silence, for none could speak, not even Emmehne,
whose first thought was only joy, that Ellen's silence was not
so guilty as it seemed. Edward had crftssed Lis arms on the
reading-desk, and buried his face upon them. The instantane-
ous change of sentiment which his confession excited toward
Ellen in those most prejudiced can scarcely be described ; but
Mrs. Hamilton, cow that the woi-ds she had longed for, prayed
for, had been spoken, had scarcely strength to move. Address
Edward she could not, though she felt far more pity toward
him than anger; she looked toward Ellen, who still remained
kneeling, though EUis stood close by her, evidently trying to
rouse her, and with a step far more hurried, more agitatod than
iier children or household had ever seen, she traversed the
long room, and stood beside her niece.
"Ellen," she said, as she ti-ied to remove the hands which
clasped the burning forehead, as if their rooted pressure could
alone stUl that agonizing paia, " my own darling, devoted Ellen !
look up, and Jorgive me all the misery I have ^caused you.
Speak to me, my child ! there is nothing to conceal now, all
shall be forgiven Edward's errors, difficulties, aU for your
sake, and he will not, I know he will not, cause you wretched-
ness again ; look up, my poor child ; speak to me, tell me you
iljr^ve me."
Eilen unclasped her hands from her forhead, and looked up
in Mrs. Hamilton's face. Her lips moved as if to speak, but
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HOME INFLUENCE.
in a moment an expressioa of agony flitted over her face, a cry
brake from her of siich fearful physical pain, that it thrilled
tbrougfi the hearts of alJ who heard, and consciousness desert-
ed her at the same moment that Mr. Maitland and Mr. How^d
entered the room together.
CHAPTER IX.
ILLNESS AND KEfilOKSE.
It was indeed a fearful night which followed the close of our
lafit chapter. Illness, sufBcient to occasion anxiety, hoth in
Herbert and Ellen, had been often an inmate of Oakwood, but
it had merely called for care, and all those kiadly sympathies,
which render indisposition sometimes an actual hlessing, both
to floae who suffer and those who tend. But OIness, appearing
to be but tlie ghastly vehicle of death, clothed in such fearful
pain that no control, even of reason and strong will, can check
its agonized expression, till at last, reason itself succumbs
oeneath it, and bears the mind from the tortured frame, this is
a trial of no ordinary suffering, even when such illness has been
brought about by what may be termed natural causes. But
when it follows, nay, springs fi-om mental anguish, when the
sad watchers feel that it might have been averted, that it is the
consequence of miataten treatment, and it comes to the young,
to whom such sorraw ought to be a thing unknown, was it mar-
vel thaj Mrs. Hamilton, as she stood by EUcn's bed, watching
the alternations of deathhke insensibifity with paroxysms of
pain, which nothing could relieve, (for it was only the com-
mencement of brain fever,) felt as if she had indeed never
known grief or anxiety before. She had looked forward to Ed-
ward's confession bringing hope and rest to all ; that the aehing
head and strained nerves of her poor EUen, only needed re-
turning love, and the quietness of assured, forgiveness for herself
and Edward, for health and happiness gradually to return ; and
the shock of such sudden and terrible illness, betraying, as it did
an extent of previous mental suffering, which she had not con-
ceived as possible in one so young, almost unnerved her. But
hers was not a character to give way ; the anguish she ex-
perienoed miglit be read in the almost stem quiet of her fiice^
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HOME INFLUEKCE. 315
in her gentle bat firm reslstooce to every persuasion lo move
from Ellen's bed, not only through that dreadful. night, but for.
the week which" followed. The idea of death was absolute
agony ; none but her God knew the struggle, day ailer day,
night after night, which she endured, to compel her rebeUioua
spirit to submission to His will, whatever it might be. She
knew earth's dearest, most unalloyed happiness could not com-
pare with that of Heaven, if indeed it should be His pleasure
to recall her ; but the thought would not bring peace. She had
no reason to reproach herself, for she had acted only as impera^
tive duty demanded, and it had caused her almost as much
misery as Ellen, But yet the thought would not leave her, that
her harshness and cruelty had caused all the suffering she be-
held. She did not utter those thoughts aloud, she did not dai'e
give words to that deep wretchedness, for she felt lier only sus-
taining strength was in her God. The only one who would
have read her heart, and ^ven sympalliy, strength, comfoit,
without a word feiam her, her husband, was far away, and she
dared not sink ; though there were times when, heart and fcame
felt 30 utterly exhausted, it seemed as if she must.
Mr, Howard's presence had been an inexpressible rehef.
" Go to Edward, my dear friend," she had said, as he lingered
beside the bed where Ellen had been laid, longing to comfort,
but feeling at such a moment it was impossible; "he wants
you more than any one else ; win him to confide iu you, soothe,
comfort him ; do not let him be out of your sight."
Not understanding her, except that Edward must be natur-
ally grieved at his sister's iilneas, Mr. Howard sought him, and
found him still in the library, almost in the same spot.
" Tliis is a sad welcome for you, Edward," he said, kindly
laying his hand on his shoulder, but do not be too niqch cast
down. Ellen is very young, her constitution, Mr. Maitland as-
sures us, is good,, and she may be spared us yet. I came over
on purpose to see you, for late as it was when I returned from
Exeter, and found you had arrived, I would not defer it till to-
" You thought you came to see the pupil you so loved," an-
swered Edward, raising his head, and startling Mr. Howard,
both by his tone and countenance. " You do not know that I
am the cause of my poor sister's suffering, that if she dies, I
am her murderer. Oh, Mr. Howard," he continued, suddenly
throwing himself in his arms, and bursting into passionate tears,
" wliy did I ever leave you ? why did I forget your counsels,
yoir goodness, throw your warning letter to the winds ? Hato
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31G HOME INFLUENCE.
me :f you will, but listen to me pity me, save me from my-
self/'
Starlled as he was, Mr. Howard, weU. acquainted with the
human heart, its errors, as well as its better impulses, knew
how to answer this passionate appeal, so as to invite its full
confidence and eootUe at the same time. Edward poured out
his whole l^e. It is needless to entr npon it here in. detail ;
suffice it, that the artful influence of Harding, by gradually
undermining the good impressions of the home he had left, had
prepared his pupil for an unlimited indulgence in pleasure, and
escitemeni, at every opportunity which offered. And as the
Prince William was ci-uising off the coast of British America,
and constantly touching at one or other of her ports, whert
Harding, from his seniority and usefulness, and Edward, from
his invariable good conduct were often permitted to go ashore ;
these opportunities, especially when they were looked for and
used by one practised in deceit and wickedness, were often
found. It does not require a bug period to initiate in gambling.
The very compeUed restriunt, in the intervals of its indulgence,
but increased its maddening excitement, and once given up to
its blind pursuit, Harding became more than ever necessary to
Edward, and of course his power over him increased. But
when he tried to make him a sharer and conniver in his own
low pleasures, to teach him vice, cautiously as ho thought he
had worked, he failed; Edwai-d started back appalled, and
though unhappily he could not break from him, from that hour
he misdoubted and shrunk away. But he had given an advan-
tage to his fell tutor, the extent of which he knew not himself.
Harding was loo well versed in art to betray disappointment.
He knew when to bring wine to the bUIiard-table, so to create
such a delirium, of excitement, that Edward was wholly uncon
scious of his own actions ; and once or twice he led him into
scenes, and made him sharer of such vicious pleasures, that se-
cured him as his slave ; for when the excitement was over, the
agony of remorse, the misery, lest his confiding captain should
suspect him other than he seemed, made him clmg to Harding's
promises of secrecy, as his only refuge, even while he loathed
the man himself. It was easy to make such a disposition be-
lieve that he had, in some moment of excitement, done some-
thing which, if known, would expel him the Bavy j Edward
could never recall what, hut he believed him, and became des-
perate. Harding told him it was downright folly to think about
it so seriously. It was only known to'him, and he would not
befi-ay him. But Edwai-d writhed beneath his power; jerpe
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HOME INFLUENCE. 31V
tiiallj lie called on Mm. for pecunisiry help, and when he had
none, Lold him he must write home for it, or win it at the bil-
liard-table, or he knew the consequences ; and Edward, though
again and again he had resolyed he would not touch a ball or
cue, (and the remorse had bo;n such, that he would no doubt
have kept the i-esolve, had it not been for dread of heti-ayat,)
rather than write home, would madly seek the first opportunity,
and play, and win perhapa enough, all but a few pounds, to
satisfy his tormentor, and for these he would appeal to his
sister, and receive them, as we know ; never asking, and so
never hearing, the heavy price of individual suffering at which
they were obtained.
The seven or eight months which had elapsed before his last
fata! appeal, had been occasioned by the ship being out at sea.
Sir Edward had mentioned to Mr. Hamilton, that Edward's
excellent conduct on board had given him a longer holiday on
shore, when they were off New York, to which place he had
been despatched on business to the President, than most of hia
companions. Edward thought himseF safe, for Harding had
been unusually quiet; but the very day they neared land, he
told him he must have some cash, sneered at the trifling sum
Edward had by him, told him if he chose to let him try for it
fairly, they should have a chance at billiards for it j but if that
fail, he must pump his rich relations for it, for have it he must.
Trusting to his luck, for he had often won, even with Harding,
he rushed to the table, played, and as might he expected, left
off, owing his tormentor fifty pounds. Harding's fiendish tri-
umph, and his declaration that he must trouble him for a check
to that amount, signed by the great millionaire, Arthur Hamil-
ton, Esq., goaded him to madness. He drank down a large
draught of brandy, and deliberately sought another table and
another opponent, and won back fifteen ; but it was the last day
of his stay on shore, as his enslaver knew, and it was the wi-etch-
edness, the misery of his heavy debt to the crafty, merciless
betrayer of his youthful freshness and innocence, who had
solemnly sworn if he did not pay it by the next letters from his
home, he would inform against him, and he knew the conse-
quences, which had urged that fearful letter to Ellen, from
which all her suffering had sprung. Edward was much too
young and ignorant of the world's ways to know that Harding
no more dared execute his threat against.him, thanhe could put
his own head in the lion's mouth. His remorse was too deep,
his loathing of his changed self too unfeigned, to beheve that
Siis errors were not of the heinous, fatal nature which Harding
15
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318 HOME INFLUEKCE.
tauglit him to suppose them; and the anguish of a iiatiirallj Bue.
noble, independent spirit may be imagined. All his poor mo-
ther's lepsons of his uncle's excessive sternness, and delerminfid
pitilessness, toward the faults of those less firm and worthy than
himself, returned to him, completely banishing his own expe-
rience of that same uncle's excessive kindness. The one feel-
ing had been insensibly instilled in his boyhood, from as long
as he could remember, till tbe age of twelve ; the other was
but the experience of eighteen short months. Oh, if. parents
would but think and tremble at the vast importance of the first
lessons which reach the understanding of the young beings
committed to their care ! Let them impress teuth, not pre-
judice, and they are safe. Once fix a false impression, and
they know not, and it is well, perhaps, they do not, the misery
that tiny seed may sow.
]Mr. Howard listened with such earnest, heartfelt sympathy,
such deep uoiamiseration, that his young penitent told him
every error, every feeling, without the smallest reserve ; and
in the long conversation which followed, he felt more com-
forted, more hopeful of himself, than he had done for long,
long months. He told, with such a burst of remorseful agony,
his cruelty to his devoted sister, that Mr. Howard could scarcely
hear it unmoved, for on that subject there seemed indeed no
comfort; and he himself, though he would not add to Edward's
misery by confessing it, felt more, painfully self-reproached for
his severity toward her than his conduct as a minister had
ever excited before.
"Be with me, or ratber let me be with you as much as you
can," was Edward's mournful appeal, as their long interview
closed; "I have no dependence on myself -i-a weak, miserable
coward ! longing to forsake the path of evil, and having neither
power nor energy to do so. I know you will tell me, pray
trust. If I had not prayed, I could" not have confessed but
it will uot, I know it will not last."
"It will, while enduring this heavy trial of your poor sister's
terrible illness, and God's infinite mercy may so strengthen you
in tbe furnace of affliction, as to last in returning joy. Despair,
and you must fall ; trust, and you will hope and struggle de-
spite of pain or occasional relapses. Your faults are grtat, but
not so great as Harding represented them n )t so heavy but
that you can conquer and redeem them, and be yet all we have
believed you, all that you hoped for in yourself."
'f And my uncle " said Edward, hesitatingly.
" Must be told; but I ivill answer for him that he will be
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
nOME INFLUENCE. 319
neither harsh nor unjust, nor even severe. I will write U him
myself, and trust to convince him that your repentance, anil re-
solution ai'e sufficiently sincere, to permit you a second trial,
without referring to Sir Edward. Ton have done nothing (o
expei you from your profession ; hut it depends on yourself to
become truly worthy of its noble service."
There was much in the sad tale he had heard to give hope,
and Mr. Howard longed to impart its comfort to Mrs. Hamil-
ton ; but he felt she could not listen. WhUe day after day
passed, and the poor sufferer for another's errors lay hovering
between life and death, reason so utterly suspended, that even
when the violent agoay of the first seven days and nights had
subsided into lethargic stupors, alternating with such quiet sub-
mission and gentle words, that, had it not been for their wander-
ing sense, one might have fancied intellect returning ; still rea-
son was absent and, though none said it aloud, the fear
would gain dominion, that health might i-etum, but not the
mind. The flrat advice had been procured wTiat was dis-
tance, even then, to wealth ? every remedy resorted to. Her
luxuriant hair cut close, and ice itself applied to cool that burn-
ing, throbbing pain ; hut all had seemed vain, till its cessation,
at the end of seven days, somewhat renewed J-Ir. Miutland's
Not one tear had Mrs. Hamilton shed, and go excessive had
been her fatigue, that Misa Hareourt and her children trembled
for her ; conjuring her, for their sakes, for her husband's, to
take repose. Mr. Maitland's argument, that when Ellen re-
covered her senses (which he assured her now he had little
doubt she would eventually,) she would need the soothing com-
fort of her presence still raore than she could then, and her
strength must fail before that if she so exhausted it carried
more weight than all the rest ; and her daughters had the inex-
pressible relief of finding that when, in compliance with their
tearful entreaties, she did lie down, sbe slept, and slept refresh-
ingly, for nature was exhausted. There was much of comfort
in those days of trial, which Mrs. Hamilton fully realized, when
Ellen's convalescence permitted her to recall it, though at the
time it seemed unnoticed. That Caroline's strong mind and
good heirt should urge her to do every thing in her power to
sive her mother troubJe, even to entreat Ellia and Moms to
show her, and let her attend to the weekly duties wiih them,
and accomplish Ihem so earnestly and well, that both theso
faithful domestics ^ere astonished and debghted, was not sur-
prising , lor Iiers was a character to display its bet'er qualitiei
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320 HOME INFLUKNCE,
ill such emergencies. But tliat Emmeline sliould so effe etually
roase herseli' from the overwhelming grief, whicli had at firsl
assailed her at Ellen's fearful sufferings and greai danger, as
to be a comfort alike to her mother and Edward, and assist
Caroline whenever she could, even trying to be hopeful and
cheerful for others' sakea, till she actually became so, vfas so
unexpected, from the grief she had indulged in when she parted
from her father, that it did surprise. To be in the room with
Ellen had so affected her at first, that she became pale, and so
evidently terrified, that Mrs. Hamillon half desired her not to
come, especially as she could do no good ; and Mrs. Greville-
and Hary had tried to prevail on her to stay with them, but
she would not hear of if.
" If I can do no good, can neither help mamma in nursing
Ellen, nor do aa Caroline does, I can, at least, try to comfort
poor Edward, and I will not leave him. If I am so weak as
not to be able to endure anxiety and sorrow without showing
it, it shall not conquer me. No, no, dear Mary ; come and see
me as often as you hke, but I cannot leave home till mamma
and Ellen and we are all happy again ! "
And she did devote herself to Edward, and so successfully
with her gentle sympathy with his grief, her tender feeling to-
ward his faults, her conviction of her father's forgiveness, her
unassuming but heart-breathing piety, which, without one word
unduly introduced of a subject so holy, for she felt herself much
too lowly and ignorant to approach it yet always led up his
thoughts to God, and from one so young, so humble, and, in
general, so joyous, had still greater effect in confirming his re-
turning religious hope, than had hia teachers been only those
who were older and wiser than himself. However miserable
he might be before she came, he looked to her society, her elo-
quence, as comfort and hope ; and soon perceiving this, she
was encouraged to go on, though quit6 astonished for she
coald not imagine what she bad done to deserve such commend-
ation when Mr. Howard, one day meeting her alone, took
both her hands in his, and with even unnsual fervor bade God
bless her! for young, lowly as she was, she not only (omfort-
ed the erring, but raised and strengthened the penitent s trem-
bling faith and hope.
Poor Edward ! harder than all seemed to him his aunt's
silence. He knew his sister entirely engrossed her ill as
Eilen was, it could not be otherwise; but he pashionately
ioijged only for one word from her : that she forgave him the
misery she was enduring, Kot aware that such was his feel
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HOME INFLUENCE. 321
iog', ci'Qscious liereelf that her sole feeling toward hirn was
pity, not anger, and looking to herself alone as the cause of her
poor child's sufferings, she did not think for a moment that he
could imagine her never referring to his confession originated
in displeasure.
Ten or twelve days had so passed, when one afternoon, com-
pletely exhausted with two nights' watchfulness for though
nurse Langford and Fanny were in constant attendance on
Ellen, she could not rest if she heard that harrowing cry for
her, even though her presence hrought no comfort she went
to lie down for a few hours on a conch in her dressing-room.
Cai-oline had taken a book, though with not much inclination
to read, to sit by her, and watch that her sleep should not be
disturbed. How in those moments of quiet did she long for
her father! feeling intuitively how much heavier was her
mother's trisi! without his loved support. He had beenwiitton
to hy them all since Edward's confession. Mrs. Hamilton had
done so in Ellen's room, only to beseech him to write forgiv-
ingly, forbearingly to the unhappy cause of all. She did not
dare breathe her feehngs, even on paper, to him, convinced
that if she did so, control must give way, and she was power-
less at once ; but her hushand knew her so well that eveiy
suppression of individual emotion betrayed, more forcible than
the most earnest words, all she was enduring.
Caroline had kept her affectionate vigil neaa-ly two hours,
when Edward's voice whispered, " Miss Harcourt wants you,
dear Caroline ; let me talce your place, I will he quito as watch-
ful as yourself; only let me stay here, you do not know the
comfort it will be."
To resist his look of pleading wretchedness was impossible.
She left hun, and Edwai-d drawing a low stool to the foot of
the couch, as if not daring to occupy his cousin's seat, which
was close by the pillow, gazed on the miid, gentle features of
his aunt, as in their deep repose they showed still clearer the
traces of anxiety and sorrow, and felt more keenly than evef
the full amount of misery, which his errors and their fata) con-
cealment had created. " Why, js it," he thought, " that man
cannot bear the punishment of his faults without causing the
innocent, the good, to suffer also ? " And his heart seemed to
answer, " Because by those very social ties, the strong im-
pulses of love for one another, which would save others from
woe, we may be preserved and redeemed from vice again, and
yet again, when, were man alone the sufferer, vice would be
Btronger than remorse, and never he redeemed."
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S22 HOME INFLUENCE.
Mrs. Hamilton woke with that painful start which long
WatehJ'ulness always occasions, and missing Caroline, yet feel-
ing aa if she were not alone, her eyes speedily fixed themselvea .
in some surprise on the figure of her nephew, who, unable to
hear the thoughts the sight of her exhaustion produced, had
bent his head upon the couch. Inexpressibly touched, and glad
of the opportunity to apeak to him alone, she called him to her,
and there was something in the tone that encouraged him to
fling himself on his knees by her side, and sob like an infant,
saying, almost inarticulately -
" Can you, will you ever forgive me, aunt Emmeline ? YotU'
silence has almost broken my heart, for it seemed to say you
never could; and when I look at my poor Ellen, and see how
I have changed this happy home into sorrow and gloom, and
sin, for it is all my work mine, whom you have loved, treated,
trusted, a3 a son I fee! you cannot forgive me; I ought to go
fi-om you ; I have no right to pollute your home."
"Hush, Edward! do not give utterance or indulgence tc
any such thoughts. My poor, unhappy boy ! your errors have
brought such fearful chastisement from the hand of God him-
self, it is not for me to treat you harshly. May His mercy
avert yet severer trial ! I will not hear your story now ; you
are too agitated to tell it, and I am not at this moment strong
enough to hear it. I am satisfied that you have confided all to
Mr. Howard, and will be guided by him. Only tell me how
came you first to apply to Ellen? Did the thought never
strike you, that in sending relief to you, she might be exposing
herself to inconvenience or displeasure ? Was there no con-
sideration due to her?"
"I never seemed to think of her, except as glad and willing
to help me, at whatever cost to herself," was his reply. "I feel
now the cruel selfishness of the belief but oh, aunt Emme-
line, it was fostered la me from my earliest childhood, 'grew
with my growth, increased with my years, received strength
and meaning from my poor mother's utter neglect of her, iind
too indulgent thought for me. I never thought so till now, noiv
that I know all ray poor sister's meek and gentle worth, and it
makes me still more miserable. I never cotdd tliink her -my
equal ; never could fancy she could have a will or wish apart
from mine, and I cannot trace the commencetnent^pf the feel-
ing ! Oh ! if we had been but treated alike ! but taught to so
love each other, as to think of each other's happiness &bova
our own, as you taught my cousins ! "
" Do you know any thing of the promise to which poor Ellen
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
IIOMK ISFLUExNCK. 328
80 constantly rtfers?" inquired Mrs. Hamilton, after gently
soothing his painful agitation.
He did not; bnt acknowledged that from the time tlioy had
become inmates of Oakwood, Ellen had constantly saved him
from punishment by bearing the panalty of his faults } recalling
numerous incidents, trifling in themselves, but which had always
perplexed Mrs. Hamilton, as evincing such strange contradic-
tions in Ellen's childish character, and none more so than the
disobedience .which we related in our second part, and whicli
Edward's avowal of having himself moved the flower-stand,
now so clearly explained. He said, too, that Mr. Howard had
thought it necessary, for Ellen's perfect justification, to examine
her letters and papers, but that all his appeals to her had been
destroyed but one his last fatal inclosure, the exact contents
of which he had so utterly foi^otten, written, as they were, in
a moment of madness, that he shuddered himself as he read it.
He placed the paper in Mrs. Hamilton's hand, conjui-ing her
not to recall her forgiveness when she read it; but she must
see it, it was the only amends he could make his poor Ellen, to
exculpate her fully. "Was it any wonder it had almost driven
her wild ? or that she should have scarcely known the means she
adopted to send him the relief, which, as ho deserved, had never
reached him.
Mrs. Hamilton read the letter, and as thought after thought
rose to her mind, connecting, defining, explaining EUen's con-
duct from her fifteenth birth-day, the day she received it, to the
discovery of her sin, and her devoted silence afterward, trifiing
incidents which she had forgotten returned to add their weight
of evidence, and increase almost to agony her self-reproach, for
not seeing the whole before, and acting differently. She re-
membered now Ellen's procrastination in writing to Edward,
the illness which followed, and could well understajid her dread
lest the finding the notes should betraced to that day, and so
throw a suspicion on her brother, and her consetiaent firmness
in refusing to state the day she had found them.
That long interview was one of inexpressible comfort to Ed-
ward; but though his unfeigned I'epentanco and foil confession
gava his aunt hope for him, it did but increase her individual
trial, as she returned to Ellen's couch, and listened to wander'
ings only too painfully explained by the tale she had heard.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUEKCE.
CHAPTER X.
MISTAKEN 1JIPKB33IONS ERADICATED.
It was the eevenleeaith day of Ellen's illnoss, and for six-an i-
Lhirty houiB slie had slept profoundly, waking only at very long
intervals, just sufBeieotly to swallow a few drops of povt wine,
which Mr. Maitlaad had ordered to be adraicistered if she
woke, and sunk to sleep again. It was that deep, still, almost
fearful repose, for it is so like death, which we can scarcely
satisfy ourselves is life, except by holding a glass at intervals
to the lips, to trace if indeed it receive the moisture of the breath.
And nurse Langford, Mrs. Hamilton, and Edward had, through
these long hours, watched and scarcely stirred. For they knew
that on her waking hung Lope or misery, return of intellect, or
its confirmed suspension. Mr. Maitland had particularly wished
Edward to be with her when she recovered her senses, that his
presence might seem as natural as either of her cousins; but he
warned him that the least disphy of agitation on his part, or
reference to the past, in her exhausted state, might he fatal to
her. It was quite the evening. "Widow Langford had lighted
the lamp, and sat down by- the fire, scarcely able to breathe
freely, from the intensity of her hope that Ellen would recover.
And if such were her feelings, what were Edward's and Mrs.
Hamilton's ? The former was kneeling on the right of the bed,
his eyes alternately fixed on his sister, and buried in the cover-
lid. Mrs. Hamilton was on the opposite side, close to Ellen's
pillow, the curttun drawn so far back, that the least change on
the patient's countenance was discernible. Hour after hour
had so passed, the chimes that told their flight were scarcely
heard by those anxious watchers. It was about eight o'clock,
when a slight movement in Ellen made her aunt's heart to
throb, as almost to deprive her of breath; her eyes unclosed,
and a smile, such as Mrs. Hamilton had not seen for weeks,
nay, months circled her lips.
" Dear aunt, have I been ill ? It seems such a long, long
time since I have seen you, and my head feels so strange, so
light ! and this room, it is my own, I know, but I feel as if it
did not belong to me, somehow. Do make mj head clear, ]
comiot think at all."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOSIE INFLUENCE. 32a
" Do not try fo think yet, darling. Tou bave been very, very
ill, and to endeavor to tMnls might hurt you. Strength wiU
BOOK return now, I hope, and then your head will be quite dear
again," returned Mrs. Hamilton, quietly and caressingly, though
she so trembled with the change from sickening dread to certain
hope, tiiat she herself scarcely knew how she spoke at all.
" But what made me so ill, aunt ? I feel as if it were some
great pain ; I cannot remember any thing clearly, but yet it
seems as if I had been very unhappy and that that you
did not love me any more. Did any thing make me ill? Was
it reaOy so ? "
" Tliat I did aot love you, my EUen I Indeed, that was only
fancy. You were very unhappy, as wo were all, for Edward
did not come as soon as we expected him, and the i '
very dreadful, and we feared hia ship might have been wrecked,
or cast ashore, somewhere very far off, where we could not hear
of him ; and when you saw him, and knew he was safe, the
anxiety and pain you had undergone, made you ill ; you know
a little thing will do that, dearest."
"But is he really safe, aunt Emmeline ? Where is he ? "
" Close by you, love. He has been as watchful and anxioi s
a nurse as I have been. Poor fellow, you have given him a
sad welcome, but you must make up for it, by-and-by."
Ellon looked languidly, yet eagerly round, as her aunt spoke,
and her gaze fixed itself on her brother, who was struggling
violently to suppress the emotion which, at the sound of her
Voice, in connected words, nearly overpowei-ed him ; and still
move so, when Ellen said, more eagerly than she had yet
" Dear Edward ! come and kiss mo, and do not look so sad.
I shall soon get weO."
He bent over her, and kissed her repeatedly, trying in vain
fo say something, but ho felt so choked, he could not ; and Ellen
held liis hand, and looked earnestly, searchingly in his face, as
if trying painfully to define the vague thoughts and memories
which seemed all connected with him and with pain, but which
would not take a distinct form. Hor eye waudercd from him
for a moment to nurse Langford, who had come to the foot of
the bed, and that seemed another face connected with the blank
past, and then it fixed itself again on Edward, and her pale
face so worked with the effort of thought, that Mrs. Hamilton
became alarmed. She saw, too, that Edwarc was growing
paler and paler, and trembled for the continual ce of his con-
trol. Taking Ellen's hand gently fi'om his, and arranging liei
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
826 HOME :SFLUENCE.
pillow at tlie same time, bo as to turn her laoe i-atter from liiin,
she said, playfully
" You have looked at Edward long enough, EUen, to be
quite sure he is safe at home. So now I shall be jealous if
you give him any more of your attention and neglect me ; you
must take some nourishment, and try to go to aleep again, for
[ must not have you try your strength too much."
" If I could but remember clearly," answered Ellen, sadly j
" it is all so vague so dark but I do not think it was only
because he did not come, that made me bo unhappy."
" Tou are not going to be disobedient, dearest," replied Mrs.
Hamilton, fii-mJy, though fondly, as slie hastily signed to Ed-
ward to leave the room, which he most thankfully did, never
stopping till he reached his own, and tried 1o thank God for
His great mercy, hut could only uoh. ''I told you not to think,
because to do so might retard return of strength, and indeed
you must try and obey me ; you know I am very peremptory
sometimes." And the fond kiss with which she enforced the
command seemed to satisfy Ellen, whose natural suhmissiveness,
combined with excessive physical weakness, caused her to obey
at once, and not attempt to think any more. She took the re-
quired nourishment with returning appetite, and soon afterward
fell quietly and happily to sleep again, her aunt's hand closely
clasped in hers.
From that day, all fear of disordered intellect departed, and,
gradually, the extreme exhaustion gave way before Mr. MaJt-
land's judicious treatment. Strength indeed returned so slowly
and almost imperceptibly, that it was necessary to count im-
provement by weeks, not days. And when six weeks after her
first seizure, she was thought well enough to be carried to Mrs.
Hamilton's dressing-room, and laid on a couch there, it was a
source of gratitude and rejoicing to all But Mr. Maitland and
Mrs. Hamilton soon saw, with mtenae luiiety (hat with phy-
sical strength, memory and thought had loth fuUy returned,
and lliat their consequence was i depression so deep, as effect-
ually to retard her perfect recovery She seemed to shrink
from all attention, all kindness, m utterly undeserved, even from
her cousins. She would look at Edward for half an hour to-
gether, with an expression of suffering that made the heart
actually ache. At times she would receive Mrs. Hamilton's
eai-essing and judicious tenderness as :'f it were her only com-
fort, at others, shrink from it, as if she Aad no right to it.
" Tlja will never do," Mr. Maitland said, about ten days after
blllcn't^ removal into her daily quarters, and finding shi wa
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME IMFLUENCG. 327
loeing ground; "there is something ou her mind, which rausl
be removed, even if fo do so, you refer io the past. She re-
membere it ail too clearly, I fear, so otir not aUiiding to it does
no good. You must be the physician in this case, my deaj"
Mrs. Hamilton, for I am powerless,"
But though she quite ^reed with hirii, how to approach such
a very painful subject required no little consideration ; but, as
is very often the case, chance does that on which we liave ex-
pended so much thought.
Oaa afternoon EUen lay so still, so pale, on her couch, that
Mrs. Hamilton beat over her to listen if she breathed, saying,
as she did so, almost unconsciously
" My poor Ellen, when shall I have the comfort of seeing you
well and happy again?"
EKen hastily unclosed her eyes, for she was not asleep it
had been only the stupor of pfunfully-engrossing thought, ren-
dering her insensible to all outward things, but her aunt's voice
aroused her, and it seemed an inexpressible relief to feel they
were quite alone. Trying to rise, and clasping her hands, she
said, in a lone of strong excitement
"Oh, aunt Emmeline, how can I bo happy how can I bo
well when I think think that if it had not been for my
sin, and the misery it brought on rae,' Edward might be safe
stm? no one need have known his errors. I tried to save
and and I have only betrayed, and made him wretched. All
I sufFered was for nothing, worse than nothing!"
"Thank God,you have spoken, my dear, child! I felt as if I
dared not introduce the subject; but now that you have your-
self, I think I shall be able, if indeed you will listen to me pa-
tiently, Ellen, to disperse the painful mists, that ate still press-
ing so heavily on this poor little heart and brain," she said,
fondly, though seriously, as she put her arm round EUen, to
support her as she sat up. "I do not tell you it is not a natural
feeling, my love, hut it is a wrong one. Had your sin, in con-
sideration of its being, as I am now convinced it was, wholly
involuntary for in the fearful state of mind Edward's despe-
rate letter occasioned, you could not have known or thought of
any thing, but that relief seemed sent to your hand had it on
that account been permitted so far fo succeed, as fo give him
the aid he demanded, and never have been traced to you, it
would have confirmed him in the pat h of guilt and error, and
poisoned your happiness forever. When you recall the agony,
almost madness you felt, while burdened with the consciousness
of such an act, how could you have borne it, if it had conljiued
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
B28 HOME INFLUracE,
through months, perhaps yeara? Yon shudder; yet this laasl
have been the case, and Edward would have persisted in error,
if your siu bad been permitted to succeed. Its detection, ami
the sufferings thence sprinfpng, terrible as they have been to
you, my poor child, have saved him; and will, I trust, only
bring securer happiness to you."
"Saved him!" repeated Ellen, half starting up, and scarcely
hearing the last words "saved Edward!"
"Yes, dearest, by leading him fo a full confession, and giving
him not CBily the inexpressible comfort of sneh a proceeding,
but permitting him to see, that great and disappointing as bia
errors are, they can he conquered. They are not of tiie irre-
mediable, guilt-confinuing nature, that he was taught to suppose
them from Harding's own most guilty ends, and so giving him
hope and resolution to amend, which a belief that amendment
is impossible, entirely frustrates. Do not fear for Edward, my
own love; he will give you as much pride and comfort as he
has anxiety and grief; and you, under God's merey, will have
been the cause. It is a hard lesson to learn, and yet, Ellen, I
think one day, when you can look bak more calmly on the last
few months, you will acknowledge with me, that great as your
sufferings have been, they were sent in love both fo him and
to you."
"If they have saved him saved him from a continuance
in error, and so made him happy ! Oh, aunt Emmeline, I can
think so now, and I wiU try to bear the rest? but why," she
added, growing more excited, "oh, why have you been so good,
so kind? "Why did you not continue cold and distant? I could
bear it better, then."
" Bear what, love ? What have you more to bear ? Tell me
all without reserve. Why should I be cold, when you deserve
all my love and kindness ? "
"Because because, am I not (o go to Seldon Grange, as
soon as I am strong enough? Uncle Hamilton said, there
could be no excusing cause demanding a complete avoidance of
his sentence. I thought it was pain enough when you first told
me ; but now, now every time I think about it, it seems as if I
could not bear it."
"And you are not called upon to bear it, my dear child. Is
it possible you could think for a moment that I could send you
away from me, when you have borne so much, and been treated
with far too much severity already ? Did I not tell you that,
(he term of ya ir banishment depended entirely on the motive
of your sUence, and do you think there wa.s no excuse in youi
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOllE INFLUENCE. 329
motivt!, my Ellen, mistakea as it was ? Is self-devotion to be
of no more account to me, than it seemed to you ? Come,
smile, dearest; I promise you, in your uncle's name and my
own, you sliaU never leave ua, unless it be of your own free
will and pleasure, a few years hence."
Ellen did try to smile, but she was too weak to bear this
complete removal of a double burden without an emotion that
seemed more like pain than joy. She laid her head on her
aunt's shoulder, and wept without reatrabt. They were the
first tears she had shed since her illness, and Mrs. Hamilton
thanked G-od for them. She did not attempt to check them,
but the few words she did speak, told such affectionate sympa-
thy, such perfect comprehension of that young heart, that Ellen
felt as if a mountain of lead were dissolving from her.
"And now, my Ellen, that I have relieved you of a painful
dread, will you ease my mind of a great anxiety ? " inquired
Mrs. Hamillon, nearly an hour afterward, when EUen seemed
so relieved and calmed, that she could talk to her without fear.
"You look surprised; but it is a subject you alone cao explain,
and till it is solved, I shall never feel that your happiness is
secure. What is this promise, to which in your ilhiesa you so
conafaatly referred, and which, I fear, has strengthened you in
the system of self-sacrifice for Edward's sake, in addition to
your love for him ? "
A deep flush rose to Ellen's transparent cheek and brow, as
she answered, falteringly
"Ought I to tell you, dear aunt? You do not know how
often, how very often I have longed''to ask you, if to keep it
made me do wrong whether I ought te break it? And yet it
seemed so saered, and it gave poor mamma such comfort!"
"When did you make if, love? Its import I need not ask
you, for you betrayed it, when you knew not what you said, and
it was confirmed by your whole conduct. To shield Edward
from biame or punishm.enf, by never revealing his fault-s ?"
"Was it wrong?" murmured Ellen, hiding her conscious
"Wrong in you! no dearest; for you were too young to
know all the pain and evil it was likely to bring. TeU me
when, and howj it was taken ; and I think I can prove to you
that your poor mother would have recalled it, had she had the
least idea of the solemn hold it bad taken upon you."
Tims encouraged, EUeu narrated the scene that had takm
place in widow Moi^an's cottage just before Mrs. Hamilton
nrrived; and her mother's fears for Edward, and dread of Mr
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330 HOME INFLUENCE.
Hamilton, which it was very evident, aad now more tlun ever,
had extended to bo th her children. She sdd that Mr, Myrvin's
Bssurance, that her mother could see, and would love her in
Heaven, directly following the promise, had given it BtU! more
weight and solemnity. That at first she thought it would he
very easy to keep, because she loved Edward so dearly ; but
she had not been long at Oakwood before it made her very
unhappy, from its constant interference witli, and prevention of,
her obedience and duty to her aunt ; that it had often caused
her violent headaches, only from her vain attempts to satisfy her-
self as to that which she ought to do. When Edward first went
lo sea, and all seemed so right and happy with him, of course
she became happier than she had ever been before. Then came
his difliculties, and her conviction that she must save him and
keep his secret. That her reason and her affection often urged
her to confide all ta her aunt, certain that she would not harshly
condemn Edward, but would forgive and help him far more
effectually than she could; but she dared not, for whenever she
thought liius, the figure of her mother rose before her, seeming
to reproach and threaten her for exposing the child she so dearly
loved, to disgi;ace and ruin ; and this was so vivid, so constant,
during his last appeal, that she thought she must be going
mad; that nothing hut the dread of not being firm enough to
keep Edward's secret, had withheld her from confessing her sin
at once to her aunt, especially when her lincle had so solernnly
denounced it as theft, and that when it was discovered it seemed
actual relief, though it brought such severe punishment, for she
knew no aiifferiag for her could be too severe.
The tale, as Ellen told it, was brief and simple enough, and
that there was any merit in such a system' of self-devotion never
seemed to enter her mind for a moment; but to Mrs. Hamilton
it revealed such an amount of suffering and tml, such a quiet,
systematic, heroic endurance, that she unconscbusly drew that
young delicate being closer and closer to hti, as if her love
should protect her in future from any such trial ; and from what
had it all sprung ? the misery of years, at a period when life
should be so joyous and so free, that care and sorrow fiee it as
purely and too briefly happy to approach ? From a few thought-
less words, from a thoughtless, partial mother, whose neglect
and dislike had pronounced that disposition cold, unloving and
inanimate whose nature was so fervid, so imaginative, that thit
utmost care should have been taken to prevent the entrance of
a smgie thought or feeling too precocious, too solemn for hei
years. It may he ui^ed, and with truth, that to an orilinarj
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lIOMK INFLUEKCE. 331
child the promise might have been forgotten, or heedlessly laid
aside, without any haita accruing from it, but it was from not
caring to know the real character of the little being, for -Kaose
happiness and virtue she waa responsible, that the whole mis-
chief sprung ; and it is this neglect of maternal duty against
which we would so earnestly warn, those who may not have
thought about it. It is not enouffh to educate the mind, to pro-
vide bodily necessariea, to be indulgent in the gift of pleasure
and amusement, the Aeort must be won and taught ; and to do
so with any hope of success, the character must be transparent
as the day ; and what difficulty, what hinderance, can there, or
aught there to be, in obtaining this important knowledge to a
mother, from whose breast the babe has received its nonriah-
menf, from whose arms it has gradually slipped away to feel its
own independence, fi-om whose lips it has received its first les-
sons, at whose knee lisped its first prayer ? How comparatively
trifling the care, how easy the task to learn the opening dispo-
eilion and natural character, so as to guide with gentleness and
love, and create happiness, not for chUdhood alone, though that
is much, but for youth and maturity.
All these thoughts passed through Mrs. Hamilton's mind as
she listened to her niece, and looked at the pale, sweet face
lifted np to hers in the earnestness of her simple tale, as if un^
consciously appealing for her protection against the bewildering
and cont^ding feelings of her own young heart. How she
was effectually to remove these impressions of years, indeed she
knew not ; her heart seemed to pray for guidance that peace
might at length be Ellen's portion, even as she heard.
" Tou could scarcely have acted otherwise than you have
always done toward Edward, my dear Ellen, under the influ-
ence of such a promise," she said ; " your extreme youth, na-
turally enough, could not permit you to distinguish, whether it
was called for by a mere impulse of feeling in your poor
mother, or really intended. But tell me, do you think it would
give me any comfort or happiness if I could see Emmeline act
by Percy as you have done by Edward ? To see her sufi'er
pain and sorrow, and be led into error, too, sometimes, to con-
ceal Percy's faults, and prevent their removal, when, by the
infliction of some trifling pain, it would save his exposing him-
self to greater ? "
" But it seems so different with my cousins, aunt ; they arc
nl[ sueh equals. I cannot fancy Emmeline in my place. You
hare always loved them all alike."
'j\nd do you not think a mother pught to do so, doai-est ?
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8M HOME INFLUENCE.
"But how can she, if fheyare not allequallj deserving? i
was so different to Edward j he was so handsome and good,
and so animated and happy ; and I was always fretfui and ill,
and they said so often naughty ; and he used to fondle poor
mamma, and show his love, wWch I was afraid to do, though
I did love her so veiy much, (the tears started to her eyes,) so I
could not help feeling he must be much better ihan I was, just
as I always feel all my cousins are, and so it was no wonder
poor mamma loved him so much the best."
" Have I ever made any difference betweea Edward and
you, Ellen? " asked Mrs. Hamilton, conquering, with no smaD
effort, the emolJon called forth by Ellen's simple words.
" Oh, no, no i " and she clung to her in almost painful emo-
tion. " But you are so good, so kind to everybody ; you would
love me, and be kind to me as poor papa was, because nobody
else could."
" My dear Ellen, what can I do to remove these mistaken
impressions ? I love you, and your father loved you, because
you have quahties claiming our love quite as powerfully as
your brother. You must not imagine because you may be less
personally and mentally favored, (hat you are inferior to him,
either in the sight of your Heavenly Father, or of the friends
and guardians He has given you. And even if such were the
case, and you were as undeserving as you so wrongly imagine
yourself, my duty, as that of your mother, would be just the
same. A parent does not love and guide her children accord-
ing (o their individual merits, my dear Ellen, but according to
the fountain of love which, to enable her to do her duty, God
has so mercifully placed in her heart ; and therefore those who
have the least attractions and the most faults, demand the
greater cherishing to supply the place of the one, and more
careful guiding to overcome the other. Do you quite under-
stand me, bve ? "
Ellen's earnest face, on which joy and hope seemed strug-
gling with doubt, was sufScient answer.
" All mothers do not think of their solemn responsibility in
Ihe same light ; and many causes sad recollections and self-
reproaches for her early life, and separation in coldness from
her father and myself, might all have tended to weaken your
mother's consciousness of her duty, and so, without any fault ir
yourself, my Ellen, have occasioned her too great partiality foi
Edward. But do you remember her last words ? "
Elien did remember them, and acknowledged they bad sc
increased her affection for her mother, as to render the prom isG
blill more saci-ed to her.
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HOME INFLUENCE. S33
" I feared so, dearest ; but it is just the contrary effect which
they should have had. When she called you to her, and bless-
ed and kissed you as fondly as she did Edward, she said she
had done you injustice, had failed in her duty to you, and it so
grieved her, for it was too late to atone for it then ; she could
only pray to God to raise you up a kinder parent. I have
tried to be that, for her sake, as well as your own ; and will
you not acknowledge, that if she tad been spared to love and
know your affection for her, she could no mors have borne to
see you suffer as you have done for Edward, than I could my
Emmeline for Percy? Do you not think, whea she had learn-
ed to feel as I do, which she had already begun to do, that she
would have recalled that fatal promise, and enti-eated you not
to act upon it ? What has it ever done but to make you so
painfully suffer, lead you often into error, and confirm, by con-
cealment, Edward's faults ? "
Ellen's tears were falling fast and freely, but they were hardly
tears of ptun. Her aunt's words seemed to disperse a thick
mist from her brain and heart, and for the first time, to satisfy
her that she might dismiss the painful memory of her promise,
and dismiss it without blame or disobedience to her mother.
Mrs. Hamilton had begun the conversation in trembling, for
it seemed so difficult to accomplish her object without undue
condemnation of her sister j but as Ellen, clasping her arms
about her neck, tried lo thank her again and ag^, for taking
such a heavy load from her heart, saying that she would stiU
help Edward just the same, and she would try to guard him
and herself from doing wrong, that her mother should love her
still, she felt she had succeeded, and silently, but how fervently,
thanked God.
"But will you tell me one thing, aunt Emmeline? Why,
if the promise were mistaken, and poor mamma would have
wished it recalled, did I always seem to see her so distinctly,
and fancy she so desired me to save Edward from my uncle's
" Because 'you have a very strong imagination, my love, in-
creased by dwelling on this subject ; and in your last trial your
inind was in such a fearful and unnatural state of excitement,
that your imagination became actually diseased. It was not at
all surprising ; for much older and stronger, and wiser persona
would have experienced the same, under the same pressure of
grief, and terror, and remorse. But what can I do, to cure
Qiis morbid imagination, Ellen ? " she continued, phiyfully ;
-' sentence you, as soon as you get well to a course of malbe*
matics, six hours each day ? "
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334 HOME INFLUENCE.
" I am afraid my poor head will be more stupid at figurep
ttaii ever," replied Ellen, trying to smile, too.
" Then I suppose I must think of something else. Will you
foKow Emmeline's example, and tell me every thing, however
foolish or unfounded it may seem, that comes into this littU
head whether it worries or pleases you ? You have nothings
and you will have nothing ever again, I tnast, to coneeal from
rae, my dear Ellen ; and if you will do this, yoa will give me
more comfort individually, and more security for the further-
ance of your happiness, as far as my love can promote it, than
any other plan."
Her playfulness had given place to renewed earnestness, and
Ellen, as if in the very thought of such perfect confidence
dwelt security and peace, so long unknown to her, gave the re-
quired assurance so eagerly and gratefully, that Mrs. Hamil-
ton was satisfied and happy.
CHAPTER XI,
I'iiOM that day, Ellen's recovery, though a sad (rial of pa-
tience hoth to the young invalid and her afieclionate nuraes,
was surely progressive, without any of those painful relapses
which had so tried Mr, Maitlahd'a skill hefore. She no longer
elirunk from the society of her relations, receiving Caroline's
and Miss Harcourt's many kind attentions with surprise indeed,
for she could not imagine what could have so altered theii
feelings toirard her, but with that evident gratitude and plea-
sure, which encourages a continuance of kindness. Emmeline
was always kind, but it was indeed happiness to feel she might
talk with and share her amusements, as in former days; and
that, instead of thinking she ought not to receive her aunt's
affection, the only thing she asked in return was her full con-
fidence. The inexpressible rest to poor Ellen which that con-
versation gave is not to be described. It was so blessed, so
soothing, that it seemed too unnatural to last, and the secret
dread that her uncle would not feel toward her and Edward as
her aunt did was its only alloy. Edward, too, was cheerful,
and almost happy when with her; and a long conversation
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HOME INFLUENCE. ^35
wiih Mr. Howaid, which that worthy man insisted upon hftv-
ing as soon as she was strong enough, to remove tho false im-
pressions which his severity had given, and which never ceased
to grieve and reproach him, caused his almost daily visits to be
anticipated by her with as much gladness as they had belbro
brought dread.
"And cow that anxiety for Ellen is at an end, I must have
you take more care of yourseitj Mrs. Hamilton, Your hus-
band's last injunctions were, that 1 should never pass a week
without calling once or twice at Oakwood to know how all was
going on, and what would he say to me if Le-couid see you
"He little thought how my strength would be tried, my good
friend, and so will quite acquit you. I assure you that, phy-
sically, I am perfectly well " (the wortiiy doctor shook his
head most unbelievingly) " but even with one great anxiety
calmed, there remains another, which every week increases.
It is moi-e than double the usual time of hearing from my hus-
band. We have never had any answer to the letters detaihng
Ellen's danger and Edward's return, and the answers have
been due a full month."
" But the weather iias been so unusually tempestuous, it may
have been impossible for the Siren to ply to and fro from Feroe
fo Scotland, as Hamilton wished, and no ships are likely to
touch at those islands in the winter. 1 really think you need
not be anxious on that score ; none but AJthur Hamilton's
head could have contrived your hearing as regularly from such
an outlandish place as you have done. No news is good news,
depend upon it. He may be anxious on your account, and
returning himself."
" God forbid ! " answered Mrs. Hamilton, turning very pale ;
" better the anxiety of not hearing from him than the thought
of his being at sea in this season."
Oakwood had resumed its regular happy aspect, though
Ellen was still up-stairs. Morris and Ellis had once more
the happiness of their beloved mistress's superintendence, and
proud were they both, as if Caroline had. been their own child,
U) show all she had done, and so unostentatiously, fo save her
mother trouble when she had been too anxious to think of any
Ihing but Ellen ; and the mother's heart swelled with a deli-
cious feeling of gratitude to Him who, if in making her so
acutely sensible of her solemn responsibility had deepened and
extended anxiety, had yet in the same measure heightened and
spirilnalized joy. Tte fruit was indeed worth the nurture,
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8SC HOME INFLUENCE
ttough it might have been often washed with teara. Intense(j
anxious as ebe felt herself, as did also Mr. Howard and Mr.
Maitland, end, in fact, all Arthur HamUton's friends, she yet
tried to sustain tie spirits of her children, for the young men
had evidently grown anxious on the subject too. It was not
unlikely that the seas round Feroe, always stormy, should pre-
vent any ship leaving the island, and the young people eagerly
grasped the idea : so painful is it to youth to realize a cause
ibr anxiety ; but even they, at times, grew unconsciously sad and
meditating, as the usually joyous season of Christmas and New
Year passed, and still there was no letter. Ellen and Edward
both in secret dreaded the arrival of the answer to the latter's
confession ; but still their affection for Mrs, Hamilton was too
powerful to permit any thought of self interfering with the
wish that her anxiety might be calmed.
In January the weather changed ; tJie tremendous winds
gava plae to ka. almost unnatural calm, and to such excessive
mildness and closeness of atmosphere, that it affected the health
of many who were strong, and not only made Ellen very lano
guid, but frequently recalled those dreadiul headaches which
were ia themselves an illness. Business called Mr. Howai'd to
Dartmouth near the end of the month, and he prevjuled on Ed-
ward to accompany him, for whenever his sister was more than
usually suffering his gloom redoubled. The first few days were
so fine that the change renovated him ; Mr. Howard declared
it was the sight of old ocean, and Edward did not deny it ; for
though it was good for the permanence of his repentance and
resolution to amend, to have the influence of hia home suffi-
ciently long, hia spirit inwardly chafed at his detention, and
yearned to be at sea again, and giving proof of his determina-
tion to become indeed a British sailor.
The third day of their visit, the lull and heaviness of the air
increased so strangely and closely, for January, as to seem
almost portentous. Edward and Mr. Howard lingered on the
beach ; the wcll-pvactised eye of the former tracing, in many
little things uasecii to landsmen, the slow, but sure approach of
a fearful storm.
" It is strange for the season, but there is certainly electricity
in the air," be said, directing Mr. Howard's attention to ridges
of white-fringed clouds floating under the heavens, whose murky
hue was becoming denser and denser ; and ever and anon, as
lashed by some as yet silent and invisible blast, the ocean
heaved and foamed, and gave sure evidence of approaching
lury ; " there will be, I fear, a terrible storm to-night ; and
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HOME INFLUENCE. 837
look at those birds," (several sea-gulls were skimming along the
waves almost bathing their white plumage in Iha blackened
waters), " Btraoge how they always herald tempest I Emmeline
would call Ihem spirits of the blast, revelling in the destruction
it foretella ! "
"It is approachiog already," rejoined Mr. Howard, as a long
hollow blast moaned and shivered round them, followed by the
roar of a mountainous wave bursting on the beach. " God have
mercy on all exposed to its fury 1 " and he gladly turned more
inland, while Edward remained watching its progress with an
almost pleasurable feeling of excitement, only wishing he
could but be on the sea, to enjoy it as such a sform deserved
to be.
As the day drew to a close it increased, and as darkness set
in, i(s fury became appalling. Blasts, long and loud as the re-
verberation of artillery, succeeded one another with awful ra-
pidity, tearing up huge trees by the roots, and tiles from the
roofe. Now and then, at distant intervals, blue lightning played
through the black heavens, betraying that thunder had mingled
with the wind, though it was impossible to distinguish the one
sound from the other ; and as the gusts passed onward, streaks
of white and spots of strange unnatural blue gleamed through
the gloom for a moment's space, leaving deeper darkness as
they disappeared. The ocean, lashed to wildest fury, rolled in
huge mountains of troubled waters, throwing up showers of
snowy foam, contrasting strangely with the darkness of earth
and heaven, and bursting with a sound that deadened for the
time even the wild roar of the blast. To read or even to con-
verse, in their comfortable quarters in the hotel, which over-
looked the sea, became as impossible to Mr. Howard as to Ed-
ward. About eleven o'clock, however, the wind suddenly veered
and lulled, only sending forth now and then a long sobbing wail,
as if regretful that its work of destruction was even checked ;
but the sea raged with equal fury, presenting a spectaele as
magnificent, as awful, and giving no appearance of a calm. A
sharp report sounded suddenly from the sea whetlier it was
the first, or that others might have been lost in the tumult of
the winds and waves, who might answer? Another, and another,
Bt such rapid intervals, that the danger was evidently imminent,
ftud Edward started to his feet. Again and he could bear it
no longer. Hurriedly exclaiming, '' They are signals of distress
and close at hand ! Something must be done ; no sailor can sit
Btill, and see saOors perish ! " he rushed to the beach, closely
followed by Mr. Howard, who was resolved on preventing any
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
838 HOME mFLUENCE.
mad attempt. Crowds of fishermen and townsmen had con
gregated oa the beach, drawn by that fearful sound, which, by
the hght from the guns seemed scarcely half a mile distant i
and yet so perilous was the present appearance of the ocean,
that to go to their assistance seemed impossible. Suddenly,
however, Edward's voice exclaimed, with the glad and et^er
tone of perfect confidence, " They can be saved ! a strong
boat and two willing rowers, and I will undertake to reach the
vessel, and bring the crew safe to shore. "Who among you," he
continued, turning eagerly to the group of hardy fishermen,
" will he my assistants in this act of common humanity ? who
possesses willing hearts and able hands, and will lend them ? "
" No one who cares for his Hfe ! " was the sullen answer
from one of those he addressed, and the rest stood silent, eye-
ing, half disdainfully half admiringly, the slight figure of the
voung sailor, revealed as it was, in the fitful light of the majiy
corches scattered by the various groups along the beach. "It
is well for boys to talk, we cannot expect old heads on young
Bhoulders ; but not a boat with my consent leaves the harbor
to-night ; it would be wilful murder."
"I tell you I will stake my life on the venture," answered
Edward, his passion rising high, "Am I speaking to sailors,
uid can they hesitate when they hear such sounds ? Give me
but a boat, and I will go by myself : and when you need aid,
may you find those to give it ! you will scarce dare ask it, if
that vessel perish before your eyes. Lend me a boat, 1 say,
fitted for such a sea, and the lender shall be rewarded hand-
somely. If there be such risk, I ask none to share it ; my life
is my own, and I will peril it."
It would have made, a fine scene for a painter, that young,
slight form and boyish face, surrounded by those weather-beaten
men, every countenance expressing some different emotion, yet
almost all unwilhng admiration ; the torches' glare, so lurid on
the pitchy darkness ; the sheets "of foam, rising and falling like
showers of dazzling snow ; the craggy background ; and, out
at sea, the unfortunate vessel, a pei'fcct wreck, struggling still
with the fast-rising waters. Mr. Howard saw all, but with no
thought of the picturesque, his mind was far otherwise en-
gaged.
" By Neptune ! but your honor shall not go alone ! I have
nei^er parent, nor sister, nor wife to pipe for me, if I go ; so
my lilb must he of less moment than yours, and if you can so
peril it, why should not I ? " exclaimed a stalwart young fisher-
man, advancing, and Edward eagerly grasped his rough hand.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
aOME INFLUENCE. S39
conjujing him to get hia boat at once, tliere was net a moment
to lose ; but the example was infectious, and an old man has-
tily stepped forward, declaring the youngsters had taught him
his duty, and he would do it.
" Great Giod ! what do they say ? " exclaimed Edward, as
his younger companion hastened down the heach to bring hia
boat to the leewaid of the cliff, to launch it more securely, and
a rumor ran through the crowds, whence arising it was impossi-
ble to discover. " The Siren Captain Harvey my unde's
ship ! and he must be in her she would never leave Feroe
without him. WJjat foundation is there for this rumor ? let me
know, for God's sake 1 "
But none could tell more than that a vessel, entering the
harbor just before the gale, had hiuled the Siren, about twenty
miles distant, and she seemed laboring heavily, and in such a
distressed state that a very little would finish her. Not a word
escaped Edward's lips, which grew for the moment blanched
as marble, Mr. Howard, to whom the rumor had brought the
most intense agony, foe not a doubt of its truth would come to
relieve him, was at his side, grasping his hand, and murmur-
ing hoarsely
"Edward, my poor boy, must your life be perilled too?
both both this is awful ! "
" Let me but save him, and if I perish it will be in a good
cause. Tell aunt Emmehne, I know she will comfort my poor
Ellen ; and that the boy she has saved from worse misery than
death, did all he could to save her husband ! and if I fail "
he stopped, in strong emotion, then added "give EUen this,
and this," he cut off a loclt of his hfur with his dirk, and placed
it and his watch in Mr. Howard's trembling hand. "And
now, my friend, God bless you and reward you, tool" He
threw himself a moment in Mr. Howard's arms, kissed his
cheek, and, darting down the beach, leaped into the boat, which
was dancing like a nutshell on the water. It was several mi-
nutes, ere they could succeed in getting her off, the waves seem-
ing determined to cast her back ; but they were fairly launched
at length, and then they heeded not that one minute they rode
high on a mountain wave, seeming as if nothing could save
them from being dashed in the abyss below ; the next were
buried in a deep valley, surrounded by huge walls of water,
threatening . to burst and overwhelm them. For a boat to
iive in such a sea at all seemed miraculous; and old Colhns
always declared that unless some angel sat at the helm with
Edward, no human arm could have taken them in safety. If
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840 HOME INFLUE8CE.
it were an angel, it was the pure thought, the faith-wir.geJ
prajer, that he might be the instrument, in the Eiemai's hand,
of turning aside death and misery fi'om that beloved home, ia
which evea his eiTors had been met with love, and conquered
by forgtvBTtess.
With every effort, and they were such as to bid the perspira-
tion stream down the face and arms of those strong men, and
almost exhaust Edward, for he took an oar in turn, it was full
an hour from their leaving the shore hefore they reached the
ship. She had ceased firing, for by tbe lights on shore they
had-^discovered the boat's departure, and watched her progress
by the lantern at her head, as only those can watch who fee!,
one short hour more, and their ship will float no longer 1
Ckillins was spokesman, for Edward, as they grappled the
boat alongside, had sunk down for the moment powerless by
tbe helm ; roused, however, effectually by the answer
"The Siren boiind to Dartmouth from Feroe owner
Arthur Hamilton, passenger now on board nine in crew."
"In with you all then that is Captain Harvey's voice, Til
be sworn; the rumor was only too true,"
"Ay, old Collins!" returned the Captain; "we thought to
periali in, sight of onr own homes; now, Mr. Hamilton, not a
man will stir till you are safe ! "
His companion leaped hito the boat without reply, and, sink-
ing on one of the benches, drew bis cloak closely round his face.
Peril was indeed still around him, but compared wilh the
even to that Heaven-directed heart terrible struggle of be-
holding death, rising slowly but surely round him in the water-
tilling ship, almost within sight 'and sound of his home, his be-
loved ones, the mere h^e of life seemed almost overpowering.
The crew of the hapless Siren quickly deserted her. Captain
Harvey was the last to descend, and, as he did so, a block of
iron, loosened from its place, fell comerwise, and struck sharply
on Edward's forehead, almost stunning him for the moment, as
he watched the Captain's descent. He felt the blood slowly
trickling down his temple and cheek; but he was not one to be
daunted by pain: he resumed his station at the helm in un-
broken silence, only speaking when directions were absolutely
necessary, and then only in a few brief sailor-terms. They had
scarcely proceeded a third of their way, when the waters boiled
and foamed as tossed by some strange whirlpool, and it required
all Edward's address and skill as steersman to prevent the frail
boat from being drawn into the vortex. The cause was soon
displayed, and every heart shuddered, for ten minutes later, and
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HOME INFLUENCE. ail
help would indeed have been in vain. Tiie unfortmato vessel
had sunk been swallowed p in those rashbg watera; the
suction of so large a mass, producing for a brief interval the
effect of a whirlpool. The silence of awe and of intense thank-
fulness, fell on the heart of every man, and more than all on his
who had so far recovered his first emotion as to gaze wonder
iogly and admiringly on the boyish figure at tlie helm, whose
voice was utterly unknown, and whose features the fitful light,
and the youth's steadfast gaze on his rowers, prevented his
tracing with auy certainty.
The crowds had increased on the shore, watching with in-
tense eagerness the return of .the boat; but the expectation
was too deep for sound, silence almost portentous reigned. A
Luge sea had concealed her for several minutes, and Mr. How-
ai-d, who during these two long hours had remained spell-
bound on the beach, groaned aloud in his agony; again she
was visible, driven on with fearful velocity by the tide, nearer,
nearer stilL He thought he could, distinguish the figure of his
friend : he was sure he could hear the voice of Edward, urging,
commandmg, directing a landijig somewhere, in contradiction
to the opinion of others. They were within a dozen yards of
the shore, but stiU not a sound of gratulatlon was heard. Eveiy
eye was fixed, as in the fascination of terror, on a wave in the
distance, increasing in size and fury as it rapidly approaehed.
It neared the boat it stood impending over the frail thing as
a mighty avalanche of waters it burst; the boat was seen no
longer, and a wild and terrible cry sounded far and near along
the beach!
CHAPTEE XII.
FOEBBODIKGS.
The whole of the day Mrs. Hamilton bad vainly tried lo
shake ofi" a most unwonted gloom. Convinced herself that it
was greatly physical, from the unusual oppressiveness of tl
weather relaxing the nerves, which had so many months been
overstrained, yet her thoughts would cling to Mr. Maitlaiid's
words, that her husband might be coming home hirasc If; but
if the accounts of Ellen's danger and Edward's confession had
recalled him, he ought to have arrived full two or three weeka
16
.V Google
S42 HOJIli; INFLUENCE.
previous, . The gale that swept round her the awful an.l un-
natural darkness the remavkablo phenomena, at that seaaon,
of lightning and the long, loud thundei--ciap3 * which inland
could be fearfully distinguished from the ^e, appaUed the
whole household ; aad therefore it was not much wonder that
the vague idea of her husband's having left Feroe, and expo-
sure to such a tempest, should become in that fearful anxiety
almost a certainty of agony. It was well, perhaps, that her
unselfish nature had an object to draw her in some slight degree
out of herself, for her flrmaess, her trust beyond the accidents
of earth, aU seemed about to fail her, and make her for the
time being most wretched. As the storm and closeness in-
creased, so did Ellen's feverish restlessness ; her nerves, not
yet fully restored, felt strung almost to torture With every flash,
and clap, and blast. She tried lo laugh at h6r own folly ; for,
though often terrified, when a little child, at the storms in India,
those of England had never affected her at all, and she could
not iToderstand why she should feel this so childishly. But
argument is of little moment in such cases ; and Mrs. Hamil-
ton, satisfying her that she could no more help her present sen-
sation than her physical weakness, tried to soothe and amuse
her, and in so doing partially cheered bereelf. She did not
leave her till past midnight ; and then desiring Mrs, Langford
to sit up with her till she was comfortably asleep, retired to h&c
own hed-TOom. Never since her husband's absence had its soli-
tude felt so vast so heavily oppressive ; thought after thought
of him thronged her mind till she fairly gave up tlie effort to
struggle mth them. " "Will his voice ever sound here again,
his heart give me the support I need ? " rose to her lips, as she
gazed round her, and the deep stillness, the gloom only broken
by a small silver lamp, and the fitful light of the fire, seemed
but a solemn answer. She buj^ed her face in her clasped hands,
and the clock struck two before that inward conflict permitted
her once more to hfi, up heart an^ brow in meek, trusting faith
to Him who stiU watched over her and her beloved ones ; and
after an earnest, voiceless prayer, she drew her little table, vrith
its books of devotion, to the fire, and read thoughtfully, prayer-
fully, for another hour, and then sought her couch. But she
could not sleep ; the wind had again arisen, and fearing to lie
awake and listen to it would only renew her unusual agitation, she
* Thcae storms, ns oecnrring in Oevonahire, In both Jminnry and February,
KB no creation of the imagioation ] tho author has heard them herself, iinij
more than one oflicsj: m the Preventive Service has menljoneil then: as occur
tinsf during the night-watches, and of anfui violeniw.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. S43
fose at four, dressed herself, and throwing on a large shawl,
softly traversed the passage, and entered her niece's room ;
flndbg her, as she fully expected, as wakeful and rest'esa as
[erself, with the addition of an intense headache. Sle had
persuaded nurse Langford to go to bed, but the pain had come
on since then, and made her more restless and feverish than
before. She could not lie in any posture to get ease, till at
last, about six o'clock, completely exhausted, she fell asleep,
sitting almost upright in her aunt's arms, her head leaning
against her, as she stood by the bed-side. Fearing to disturb
her, Mrs. Hamilton would not move, desiring the morning pray-
ers to he said without her, and Miss Harcourt and her daughters
not to wait breakfest, as she would have it with Ellen when she
awoke. That she was stiff and exhausted with three hours'
standing in one position, she did not heed, perhaps scarcely felt,
for woman's loveliest attribute, that of a tender and utterly un-
selfish nlirse, was hers to perfection. But she did not refuse
the cup of chocolate Cftrohhe brought bet herself, and with
affectionate earnestness entreated her to take.
"Ton look so fatigued and so pale, dearest -mother, I wish
you would let me take your place ! I would be so quiet, so,, gen-
tle, Ellen would not even know her change of nurses."
" I do not doubt your caie, love, but I fear the least move-
ment will disturb this poor child, and she has had such a rest-
less night, I want her to sleep as long as she can. Tour thought-
ful care has so refreshed me, that I feel quite strong again, so
go and finish your breakfast in comfort, deai-est."
Caroline very unwillingly obeyed, alid about a quarter of an
hour afterward, Mrs, Hamilton was startled by the aoimd of- a
carriage advancing with unusual velocity to the house. It
stopped at the main entrance, and she had scarcely time to
wonder who could be such very early visitors, when a load
scream, in the voice of Emmehne, rung in her ears ; whether
of joy or grief she could not distinguish, but it was the voice
of her child, and tJie already tortured nervjs of tte wife and
mother could not bear it without a sensation of terror, amount-
ing to absolute agony. She laid Ellen's head tenderly on the
pillow, watched over her, though her limbs so. trembled she
could scarcely support herself, saw with intense rehef that the
movement had not disturbed her quiet sleep, and, calling Mrs.
Langford from an adjoining room, hastily descended the stairs,
though how she did so, and entered the breaifast-roora, she
always said she never knew. Many and eager and glad voices
were speaking at once ; the very servants thronged the ball uKd
threshold of the room, but a'l made way for her.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
344 HOME INFLUENCE.
"Ai-thur! my husband ! " she did find voice to exclaim
but every object but his figure reeled before her, smd she fajrL^
ed in bis arms.
It was some time before she recovered, for mind and frame
had been too long overtasked ; and Mr. HamiUon, as he clasp-
ed her ia his arms, beseeching her only to speak to him, and
gazed on her deathlike countenance, felt in a moment that great
as his anxiety had been for her, he had not imagined one half
she bid endured. His voice his kiss seemed to rouse the
scattered senses, even more effectually than Miss Harcourt's
anxiously proffered remedies ; but she could not speak, she
only looked up in his face, as if to be quite, quite sure he had
indeed returned ; that her vague fancies of danger, even if Ihey
had foundation, had merged in the most blissful reality, tliat
she was no longer alone ; and leaning her head on his bosom,
was only conscious of a thankfulness too deep for words ; a re-
pose that, since his departure, she had not known for a single
day. Neither she nor her husband could believe that it was
only six mouths since they had been separated. It seemed,
and to Mrs. Hamilton especially, as if she must have lived
through years in that time, it had been so fraught with soriow.
" Not one word, my own dearest ! and only these pallid
cheeks and heavy eyes to greet me. Must I reproach you
directly I come home, for, as usual, not thinking enough of
yourself; forgetting how precious, is that self to so many your
husband above all ? "
" Nay, papa, you shall not scold mamma," said Emmt Jne,
eagerly, as her mother tried to smile and speak in answer,
" yhe ought to scold you, for not sending us one line to prepare
us for your unexpected presence, and fiightening us all by com-
ing so suddenly upoa ua, and making mamma faint, as I never
saw her do before. Indeed I do not like it, mother darling I "
continued the affectionate girl, kneeling down by her mother,
and clinging to her, adding, in a suppressed, teiTified voice,
" It was so like death."
Mrs. Hamilton read in a moment that Emmehne's playful-
oeas was only assumed to hide strong emotion ; that she was
trying very hard for complete conti-ol, but so trembling, that
she knelt down, liteiully because she could not standi It was
Buch a proof of her endeavor to profit by her mother's gentle
lessons, that even at that raomeot it not only gave her the
sweetest gratification, but helped her to rouse herself,
" Indsed, I think you are perfectly right, Emmy," she said,
a jite in her usual voice, as she pressed her child a moment Ui
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 345
her, and kissed her cteek, whicU was almost as pale as her
own. "I will Eot submit to any scolding, when papa himself
is answerable for my unusual weakness ; but as we wanted him
BO very much, why, we will be lenient with him, and only keep
him prisoner with us for some time to come. But get tim
breakfast quickly, Oarohne, love; such an early visitor must
want it. When did you aiTive, dearest Arthur ? " she added,
looking earnestly in his fae, and half wondering at the expres-
sion upon it, it seemed to speak so many things; "surely not
tills morning? You were not at sea in yesterday's awful
storm?"
" I was indeed, my Emmeline ; can you hear to hear it, or
have you been agitated enough already ? I have been in dan-
ger, great danger, but our Father's infinitfl mercy has preserved
me to you all, making the instrument of my preservation so
young a lad and slight a frame, I know not how sufficiently to
bless God, or to thank my preserver."
Mrs. Hamilton's hand closed convulsively on her husband's ;
her eyes riveted on his countenance as if she would grasp hla
whole meaning at once, hut httledid she guess the whole.
" I did not come alone," he added, striving for composure,
and even playfulness, " though it seems I was such an import-
ant personage, as to he the only one seen or thought about,"
"Ey-the-by, I did see, or fancied I saw, Edward," rejoined
Caroline, who, at the news of her father having been in dan-
ger, had lefi the breakfast-table, unable to keep away from
him, even that short distance, but neither she, nor either of the
others, connecting her cousin with Mr. Hamilton's words, and
not quite xinderstanding why he should have so interrupted the
most interesting subject. " He has gone to see Ellen, I sup-
pose, and so we have missed him. Was he your companion,
papa ? How and where did you meet him ? "
" Let him answer for himself I " replied Mr. Hamilton, still
determiuately hiding his feeling under a tone and manner of
jest, and leaving his wife's side for a moment, he drew Edward
from the recess of the window, where all this lime be bad been
standing quite unobserved, and led him fonvard.
"Good heavens! Edward, what have you bern about?"
exclaimed Miss Harcourt, and her exclamation waf echoed by
Caroline and Emmeline, while Mrs. Hamilton gazed at him
in bewildered alarm. He was deadly pale, with every appear-
ance, of exhaustion, and a most disfiguring patch on his loft
brow, which he had tried in vain to hide with his hair.
"Yonhave been fighting."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
Si6 HOME INFLUENCE,
"Ouly witli the elements, Miss Hareourt, and tLey lit.ve
rather tired me, that is all ; I shall bo well in a day or two.
Don't loolc so terrified, dear aunt," he answered, witli the same
attempt at jest as his uncle, and throwing himself lightly oa an
ottdman by Mrs. Hamilton, he laid his head very quietly on
her lap.
"Fighting and with the elements? Arthur, dearest Arthur,
for pity's sake tell me the whole truth at once; it cannot he "
"And why should it not, my beloved?" (there was no attempt
at jest now.) "He to whom your care has preserved a sister
whom your indulgent love has given courage to resolve that
error shall be conquered, and he will become all we can wish
hiai whom you took to your heart and home when motherless
God has mercifully made the instrument of saving your hus-
band from a watory grave, Mid giving back their father to your
children 1 "
" To be associated in your heart with other thoughts than
those of ingratitude, and cruelty, and sin! Oh, aunt Emmeline,
I cannot thank God enough for permitting me this great mercy,"
were the only words poor Edward could speak, when the first
intensity of his aunt's emotion was in some degree conquered,
and she eould look in his young face, though her eyes were
almost blinded with tears, and putting back the bright hair
which the rain and spray had so uncurled, as to lay heavy
and damp upon his pale forehead, she imprinted a long, silent
iiss upon it, and looking alternately at him and her husband,
seemed powerless to realize any other thought.
Mr. Hamiitoa briefly, but most eloquently, narrated the events
of the previous jiight, dwelling only sufficiently on his imminent
peril, to evince the real importance of Edward's extraordinary
exertions, not to harrow the feelings of his listeners more than
need be. That the young officer's determined opposition to the
almost angrily expressed opinions of Captain Harvey and old
Collins as to the better landing-place, had saved them from the
effects of the huge wave, which had burst like a water-spout a
minute after they had all leaped in safely on shore, almost over-
whelming the projecting sand to which Collins had wished to
direct the boat, and so proving at once Edwards's far superior
nautieai knowledge, for had they steered there, the frail bark
must inevitably have been upset, and its crew washed by the
receding torrent back to sea. Harvey and Collins acknowiedged
their error at once, and looked eagerly for Edward to say so to
iura, but he had vanished the moment they had achieved a safe
landing, to Mr. flamilton's annoyance, for he had not the least
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUBNCH. 317
suspieion who he was, and only longed to expi'esa, if he could
aot ofJieriviae evince his gratitude, Collins and Grey rtfusing
the smallest credit, declaring that if it had not been for tliia
voung stranger officer, of whom they knew nofhing, not even
bis name, not a man would have stirred ; that for any fisherman
or mere ordinary sailor to have guided the boat to and from the
would have attempted it; old Collins ending, with the supersti-
tion of his class, by a declaration, that his disappearance con-
rinced his already more than suspicion, that it was some good
angel in & boy's likeness j for Arthur Hamilton would never
have been permitted so lo perish : an explanation, Mr. Hamil-
ton added, laughingly, that might suit his Emmy, but was rather
too fanciful for him. However, his young preserver was no-
where to be found, but, to hia extreme astonishment, and no
little rehef (for now that he was so near home, his anxiety to
hear of all, especially Ellen, whom he scarcely dared hope to
find alive, became insupportable,) Mr. Howard suddenly stood
before him, grasping both his hands, without tlie power, for a
minute or two, to speak. Mr. Hamilton overwhelmed him with
questions, scarcely giving him time to answer one before he
asked another. They had nearly reached the hotel, when Cap-
tun Harvey's bluff voice was heard exclaiming
" Here he is, Mr. Hamilton ; he is too exhausted to escape
aur thanks and blessings now. What could the youngster have
tried to hide himself for ? "
But before Mr. Hamilton could make any rejoinder, save to
grasp the young man's hands strongly in his own, Mr. Howard
said eagerly ,
"Oblige me. Captain Harvey; take that hoy into our hotel.
It is only just round the corner ; make him take off his dripping
jacket, and give him some of your sailor's stuff. He is not
quite strong enough for bis eKertions to-night, and should rest
at once."
Captain Harvey bore him off, almost carrying him, for exer-
tion and a variety of emotions had rendered him faint and
powerless.
** Do you know him, Howard ? who and what is he ? " But
Mr. Howard did not, perhaps could not reply, but hurried his
friend on to the hotel; and entered the room, where, having
called for lights, and all the ingredients of grog-punch, which
ho vowed the boy should have instead of the brandy and water
he had called for, they found Edward trying lo.laugb, and pro-
tasling agtunst all coddlii^; he was perfectly weU, andhe woild
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
848 HOME raFLUENCE.
not 0 to bed, and could not ima^ue what right Captain H:u
vey had to be a sailor, if he thought' so much of a storm, and a
blow, and a wetting.
" Nor should I, if you were sailor-rigged ; but what husinesa
have you with this overgrowu mast of a figure, and a face pale
and delicate as a woman's ? "
And 80 like, his dying mother it was, that Mr. Hamilton stood
for a moment on the threshold, completely stupefied. We leave
our readers to imagine the rest ; and how Captain Harvey car-
ried the seemingly marvellous news that thehrave youngofBoer
was Mr. Hamilton's own nephew, over the town, and in every
fisherman's hut, in a miraculously short space of time.
We may as well state here at once, to save farther retrospec-
tion, that Mr, Hamilton, by the active and admirable assistance
of Morton, had, after a three months' residence at Feroe, per-
ceived that he might return to England much sooner than he
had at first anticipated ; still he did not like to mention even the
probability of such a thing to his family, till perfectly certain
himself. Morton never ceased persuading him to name a pe-
riod for his return, knowing the comfort it would he to his home ;
but Mr. Hamilton could not bear the idea of leaving his friend
in his voluntaiy banishment so many months sooner than they
had reckoned on. When, however, the letters came from Oak-
wood, detailing Edward's return, and" the discoveries thence
proceeding, his anxiety and, let it he owned, his extreme dis-
pleasure against hia nephew, prompted bis return at once.
Morton not only conquered every objection to his immediate
departure, but tried, and in some measure succeeded, to soften
his auger, by bringing before him many points in Mr. Howard's
letter, showing real, good, and true repentance in the offender,
which a first perusal of a narrative of error had naturally over-
looked. The seas, however, were so fearfully tempestuous and
the winds so adverse, that it was impossible either to leave Fe-
roe, or get a letter conveyed to Scotland, for a full fortnight
after the Siren's last voyage. Nothing but the extreme urgency
of the case, increased by the fact that the detention of the Siren
at Wick had given Mr. Hamilton a double packet of letters, but
the second, though dated ten days later, gave the same hopeless
account of Ellen, could have made him attempt a voyage home
in such weather ; yet he felt he could not rest, knowing intui-
tively the misery his wife must be enduring, and scarcely able
to bear even the thought of what seemed most probable, that
Ellen would be taken from her, and the aggravated trial it
would be. The voyage was a terrible one, for length and
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
BOilS INFLUENCE. 349
heavy gales. More than once tiiey wisbed to put into port,
that Mr. Hamilton might continue hiB journey by land, but their
cn!y safety seemed keeping but at sea, the storm threatming
to dash them on rock or shoal, whenever in sight of Jand.
By the time they reached the Land's End they had come
westward of England, instead of eastward, as they weat the
vessel was in such a shattered and leaky condition, that Cap-
tain Harvey felt and acknowledged, she could not weather out
another storm. The calm that had followed the heavy gales,
gave hope to aU ; even though the constant shiftings of the
wind, which was now not more than what, in sailor's parlance
is called a cat's-paw, prevented their making as juueh way as
thgy desired. At length they were within twenty miles of
Dartmouth, and not a doubt of their safety disturbed them, un-
til the darkening atmosphere, the sullen rise and suppressed
roar of the billows, the wind sobbing and wailing at first, and
then bursting into that awful gale, which we have before de-
scribed, banished every human hope at once. The rudder
snapped; every half-hour the water gained upon the bold,
though every man worked the pumps. There was not a shred
of canvas, but the masts, and yards, and stays bent and snapped
like reeds before the blast. To guide her was impossible ; she
was driven oh on till she struck on a reef of rock about a
mile, or less, perhaps from Dartmouth, Then came their sig-
nals of distress, as a last lone hope, for the crew of the Siren
were all too good seamen to dare believe a boat could either be
pushed off, or live in such a sea. Their wonder, their hope,
theii- intense thankfulness, when it was discovered, may be
imagined. The rest is known.
"And how did you get this disfiguring blow, my dear Ed-
ward?" inquired his aunt, whose eyes, it seemed, would turn
upon him, as if impossible to connect that slight figure with
such immense exertions though some time had passed, and
a social, happy breakfast, round which all still lingered, had
enabled them to subdue too painful emotion, and only to be
conscious of the most deep andgratefu! joy.
" Pray do not call it disflguring, aunt ; I am quite praud of
iL Last night I could have dispensed with such a striking
mark of affection from the poor Siren, though I really hardly
felt it, except that the blood would trickle in ray eye, and al-
most blind me, when I wanted all my sight and senses too-
But this morning Mr. Howard has made such a kind fuss about
It, that I think it must be something grand."
" But what did you hide yourself for, Ned ? " demanded Em-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
S50 HuME IJIFLXIEKCE.
meline, ali her high spirits recalled. Her cousin hesitated, and
a flush mounted In his forehead.
" It was fear, Emmeline ; absolute fearl"
"Fear I" she repeated, laughing; "of what? of all the
bogies and spirits of the winds and waves, whose wrath you
dared, hy venturing to oppose them ? Nonsense, Edward !
you will never mate me beheye that."
" Because jou do not know me," he answered, with startling
earnestness. " How cao your gentle nature understand the in-
congruities of mine ? or loving your father as you do, and as he
deserves, comprehend the dread, the belief in his nnpitying
sternness to youthful error, which I imbibed fi-om my child-
hood? He held he holds my fate, forgiveness or expo-
sure, and how could I meet him calmly ? Emmeline, Emme-
line, if I had been but as morally brave as I may be physically,
I should have had nothing to dread, nothing to hide. As it is,
uncle Hamilton, judge, act, decide as you would if I had not
been the undeserved means of saving you it will be the best
for me ; " and, rising hurriedly, he left the room before any one
could reply.
" But you will forgive him, papa ; you will tiy him again ;
and I am sure he wiJl be morally brave, too," pleaded Emms-
line ! her sister and Miss Hareourt joining in the entreaty and
belief, and Mrs. Hamilton looking in his face without utterin;;
a word. Mr. Hamilton's answer seemed to satisfy all parties.
Ellen meanwhile had awoke, quite refreshed, and all pain
gone, been dressed and conveyed to her daily quarters, the
events of the morning entirely unknown to her ; for though the
joyful news, spreading lite wildfire thi'ough the house, had.
reached Mrs. Langford's ears, and made her very happy, she
had quite judgment enough, even without a message to that
effect from hei' mistress, to keep it from EUen (ill carefully pre-
" What can I say to my little Ellen for deserting her so
long F " inquired Mrs. Hamilton, playfully, as she entered her
room, about twelve o'clock, after a long private conversation
with her husband.
"I wish you would tell me you had been lying down, dean
aunt ; it would satisfy me better than any other reason."
" Because you think it would do me the most good, dearest.
But (aok at me, and tell me if you do not think I must have
been trying some equally efficacious remedy." Ellen did lock
and so radiant was that kind face with happiness, that she was
startled.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUEKCE. 351
" Wha- has happened, aunt Enuiieline ? Tou bave heai'd
from my imcle," she added, her voice trembling. "What doea
he say ? will he "
" He says, you must summon all your smiles to grqet him,
ioTC J for he topes to he with us very, very shortly, so you will
not wonder at my joy ? "
Ellen tried to sympathize in it ; but Mrs. Hamilton soon
saw that her perhaps natural dread of what should be her
uncle's judgroent on her brother and herself, prevented all
pleasurable anticipation of his arrival, and that the only effect-
ual way of removing it was to let them meet as soon as possi"
ble.
CHAPTER Xin.
FORGIVENESS.
Thkeb days after Mr. Hamilton's arrival, a cheerful party
assembled in his wife's dressing-room, which,, in its elegant ap-
purtenances signs as they were, of a most refined and beauti-
ful taste certainly deserved a higher appellation ; but boudoir,
Percy had always declared, did not harmonize at all with the
old English comforts of Oakwood, and he would not have a
French word to designate his mother's room especially, Ellen
was on her sofa, working ; Edward, who she thought had only
returned that morning, at her side, reading ; Caroline and Eai-
meline, drawing, the one with some degree of perseverance, tie
other with none at all. It seemed as if she could not sit still,
and her wild sallies, and snatches of old songs, repeatedly made
Miss Harcourt look up from her book, and Mrs. Hamilton from
her work, surprised,
" Emmeline, I cannot draw," exclaimed Caroline, at length ,
" you are making the table as restless as yourself."
" Why can yon not say it was moved by an irresBtihle sym-
pathy ? It is most extraordinary that you will still Hpeak plain
matter-of-fact, when I am doing all I can to make yo j poetical."
" But what am I to poetize on now, Emmeline ? the table,
or yourself? because, at present, they are the only Bubjects
under consideration, and I really cannot see any thing very
poetical in eifier."
" Not even in me. Lina ? " archly replied Emmeliie, bending
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
852 HOME INFLUENCE.
down so that her face should come before her aister, iaatead of
her copy, which was a very pretty, smaU marhle figure, " Now,
if yoa were not the most determined piece of prose in the 'vorld,
you would find poetry even in my face.
" For, lo I tha artist no more gazed
On festures still and cold;
He stood, bewildar'd and amazed.
As living cliarma unfold. '
" Ab if tonch'd bv yon orient ray,
The stone to lifa had warm'd;
For round tha lip such brisht smiles play,
Ah never sculptor forniM.
There, Caroline, that is what you ouglit lo liave^e^i. If I i3aii
make poetry on my face "
" Poetry on yourself I "Why, Eramehne, I thought you were
repeating a verse of some old poet, with which I am unac-
quainted. I really beg your pardon. I did not koow your
favorite Muse had dubbed you follower as well as worshipper."
" Nor did I fill this moment. She feared for her reputation
near such a lover of prose as you are, and so touched rae with
inspiration. I am exceedingly obliged to her ; but even if I
failed to make you poetical, Caroline, you might have emulated
Cowper, and instead of singing the ' Sofa,' sung the ' Table."
Indeed I think a very pretty poem might be made of it. Look
at the variety of tasteful and useful things laid on a table
and there it stands in the midst of them, immovable, cold, in-
sensible, just like one on whom we heap favors upon favors,
and who remains so wrapped in seF, as to be utterly indifferent
to aU. Now, Caroline, put that into rhyme, or blank verse, if
you prefer it ; it ia a new idea, at least."
" So new," replied her sister, laughing, " that I think 1 will
send it to Percy, and request him to turn it into a Greek or
Latin ode ; it will be so much grander than my Enghsh vereion.
You have so astonished mamma, Emmeline, by your mad mood,
that she has actually put down her work."
" 1 am so glad 1 " replied Emmehne, springing to her mother's
jide ; " I like other people to be as idle as myself."
" But there is a medium in all things, young lady," answered
her mother, half-gravely, half in Emmeline's own tone ; " and
I rather think your conscience is telling you, that it is not
quite right to desert one Muse for another, as you are doing
"Oh, but my drawing must wait till her Mnse inspires me
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 353
-again. Poetry does not always come, and her visits are so
delightful ! "
" Then I am afraid you will think me veiy harsli, Emme-
line ; hut delightful as they are, I must not have them always
encouraged. If you encourage the idea of only working when
the fit of inspiratioa comes upon you in jAain words, only
when you feel inclined you will fritter life away without one
Boiid thought or acquirement. You think now, perhaps, habit-
uated as you are to employment, that this is impossible j but
you are just of an age to demand very strict watchfulness over
yourself to prevent it. _ Wow that you are emerging from the
routine of childhood's lessons, and too old to be compelled to do
-hat which is right, and rendering your task of control more
difficult more susceptible to poetry, and what you teml in-
spiration, than ever, you must try and infuse a little of Caro-
line's steady, matter-of-fact into your poetry, instead of almost
despising i^ as so eold and disagreeable. Kow, do not look so
very sad, and so very serious, love, and jump at the conclusion
Ihat I am displeased, because I speak seriously. I love your
joyousness far too dearly to check it, or wish you to do so, es-
pecially in your own family ; but just as you have learned the
necessity of, and evinced so well and so feelingly, control in
emotions of sorrow, my Emmeline, so I am. quite sure you wiU
trust lay experience, and practise control, even in the pleasant
inspiration of poetry and joy."
Emmeline sat very quiet for several minutes ; she was just in
that mood of extreme hilarity which renders control excessively
difficult, and causes the last check upon it to be felt as harsh
and unkind, and almost to bring tears. She was not too perfect
to escape from feeling aU this, even though the person who had
caused it was the mother she so dearly loved; but she did not
(pve way to it. A few minutes' hard sti'uggle, and the mo-
mentary temper was so conquered, that, with an even more
than usually warm kiss, she promised to think quite seriously
on al! her mother said ; and, an effort far more difficult, was
just as joyous as before.
"I have made so many mistakes in my drawing, mamma, I
really do not think I can go on with it to-day ; do let me help
you, I will lake such pams with my work, it shall be almost a.)
neat as yours , and then, though my fingers ai-e employed, aJ
least I may go on talking "
Mrs. Hamdton assented, telhng her she might talk as mueJi
as she pleased, wifh one ot those peculiar smiles of approval
which ever mide Emmeline's heait throb, for they always told
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
B5i HOME INFLUENCE,
her, that the thoughts and feelings, and secret struggle witli
temper, which she imagined must be known only to herself
her mother by some mysterious power had discovered, and re-
warded.
"Edward what are you so deep in? -^'Fragments cf Voy-
ages and Travels ' I thought it was something meh deepet
tlian that by the deep attention you are giving it. You should
dip in oceans, not in fragments of water, Ned."
"I did not feel inclined for the exertion," he replied, smiling.
" Do yoo know," she continued, " when I first read that book,
which I did merely because I had a lurking sort of affection for
a handsome cousin of mine who was a sailor, I was so charmed
with the tricks you all played in the cockpit, that I was seized
with a violent desire to don a middy's dress, and come after
you; it would have made such a pretty story, too; but I did
not think mamma and papa would quite approve of it, so I de-
sisted. Should I not make a very handsome boy, Edward?"
" So handsome," he replied, again smiling, " that I fear you
would not have preserved your incognita half an hour, espe-
eiaUy with those flowing curls."
"My dear Emmeline, do tell me, what has made you in this
mood?" asked Ellen; "last week you were so sad, and the last
three days you have been "
"Wild enough to frighten you, Ellen; ah, if you did hui
know the reason."
"You had better satisfy her curiosity, Emmy," said Mrs.
Hamilton, so meaningly, tJiat Emmeline's ready mind instantly
understood her. "Tell her all that did occur in that awful
storm three days ago, as poetically and lengtlrily as you like;
no one shall interrupt you, if you will only be very cai-eful not
to exaggerate or alarpi."
Edward gave up his seat to his cousin, and Emmeline launch-
ed at once into a moat animated descriptisn of the storm and
ihe shipwreck, and the rescue ; cleverly contriving so to hide
nil names, as to elude the least suspicion of either the preserved
or the preserver having any thing to do with herself, Ellen be-
coming so exceedingly interested, as to lose sight of the ques-
tion which at first had struck her, what thia could have to do
with Erameline's wild spirits.
"Tou do not mean to say it was his own father he saved ?"
she said, as her cousin paused a minute to take breath; "youi
tale is becoming so like a romance, Emmy, I hardly know how
t*! believe it."
"I assure you it is.quite true; only imagine what my young
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HOME WFLUESCE. 355
hero's feelings must have been,^nd those of the family, f whom
he gave back a husband and a father ! "
"I should think them so intense, so sacred, ^s to be hardly
joy at first, and scarcely possible to he imagined, even by your
vivid fancy, Emmy."
"I don't know, Ellen, but I think I can imagine them ; you
may shake your head,, and look wise, bat I will prove that I
can by-aad-by. But what do you think of my hero ? "
" That I should like to know him, and admire him quite as
much as you can desire and who told you all this ? "
"One of the principal aetors in the scciie?"
"What, has your penchant for any thing outof the common
way reached Dartmouth, and old Collins brought you the tale?"
"No," replied Emmeline, laughing; "guess again."
"William Grey?"
"No."
"One of the rescued crew who may know my aunt?"
" Wrong again, Ellea,"
" Then I cannot, guess, Emmeline ; so pray tell me."
"You are very silly, Ellen; were not Mr. Howard and Ed-
ward both at Dartmouth at the time? why did you not guess
them? Not that I had it from either."
" Edward 1 " repeated EUen, " did he know any thing about
it?"
" More than any one else, dearest," answered Mrs. Hamilton,
cautiously, but fondly ; " put all Emmeline's strange tale together,
and connect it with my happiness the other morning, and I think
your own heart wilt explain the rest."
"More especially with this speaking witness," continued Em-
meline, playfuUy putting back Edward's hair, that Ellen might
see the scar. She understood it in a moment, and clasping her
arms round her brother's neck, as he knelt by her, tried hard to
prevent emotion, but could not, and burst into tears.
" Tears, my little Ellen ; I said I would only be greeted with
smiles," exclaimed a rich, deep voice, close beside her, and be-
fore she had time to fear his presence, she felt herself clasped
with all a father's fondness in her uncle's arms ; her head res
ing on his shoulder, and his warm kiss on her cheek.
" Edward 1 " was the only word she coold speak.
" Do not fear for him, my dear Ellen ; true repentance anil
a firm resolution to amend are all I ask, and if his future con-
duct realiy prove them, the errors of his youth flhaU, be forgot-
ten, aa if they had never been."
"And and "
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866- HOME INFLUENCE.
"I know all you would say, my dear child. 1 did diink there
could be 110 excuse, no palliation, for your sin; but even if I
still wish the temptation had been- resisted, you have indeed
suffered for it, more than the harshest judgment could desire;
let it be forgotten as entirely and as fully as it is forgiven,"
In a very few minutes Ellen's composure was so fully restored,
and her heavy dread so subsided, that the relief seemed to her
almost a dream. Could it be possible that it was the relative
she had pictured as so harsh and stem, and pitiless to youthful
error, who had drawn a chair close by her sofa, and caressmgly
holding ber hand in tis, and looking so kindly, so earnestly, in
ber altered face, was trying to amuse her by telling her so
many entertaining things about Feroe and Mr. Morton, and
his voyage home, and alluding to her brother's course, and
prudence, and skill, in such terms as almost brought the feara
j^ain? ilr. Hamilton was inexpressibly shocked at the change
which mental and bodily suffering had wrought in his niece,
There is always something peculiarly touching, and appealing
to the best emotions, In youthful sorrow or suffering of any
kind ; and her trial had been such an aggravated one com-
bining such agonized remorse, for aji act, which the harshest
judgment,* knowing all points of the case, could scarcely pro-
nounce as other than involuntary, with the most heroic, but
perfectiy unconscious self-sacrifice, and not only torror for her
brother's fate, but an almost crushing sense of misery for his
faults, that the pallid face, and firame so delicately fragile, had
still deeper claims for sympathy and cherishing than even when
caused by ordinary illness. The loss of her unusually luxuriant
hair, except the soft bands which shaded her face, visible under
the pretty Kttle lace cap, made her look much younger than she
really was, and so delicately transparent had become her com-
plexion, that the blue veins were clearly traceable on her fore-
head, and throat, and hands ; the dark, soft lash seemed longer
than before, as it swept the pale cheek, the brow more pencUied,
and the eye, whether in imagination, from her friends knowing
all she had endured, or in reality, was so expressive of" such
deep, quiet feeling, that the whole countenance was so altered
and so improved, that it seemed as if the heavy, sallow child
was rapiiy changing into one of those sweet, lovable, heart-
attraeting girls, who, without any actual beauty, can never be
passed unnoticed;
At Ellen's request, Mrs. Hamilton had, as soon as she was
strong enough, read with her, morning and evening, the flevc-
tional exercises which were read he^ow to the assembled family.
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HOME INFLUENCE. 347
Mrs. Hamilfou soon pereeiyed, and with no little pain, that
EUen shrunk from the idea of being well enough fo rejoin theio,
in actual suffering. Here again was an efiect of that same
vivid im^ination, of whose existence, until the late events, in
one so quiet, seemingly so cold, Mrs. Hamilton had not the
least idea of. EUen had been so long accustomed to he silent
as tfl her feelings in fact carefully to conceal them, that much
as she might wish and intend to be unreserved, her aunt feared
it would cause her some difficulty -to he so, and she could not
hope to succeed in controlling imagination, unless she were.
That night, however, Ellen's unreserved confidence gave her
hope. iVlen the devotional exercises, in which she had joined
with even r^ore than usual earnestness and fervor, were con-
cluded, she said, with almost Emmeline's confidence, as she
laid her hand on her aunt's
"I am so very, very happy to-oight, dear aunt, that I am
afraid I do not tiiink enough of what is past. I did so dread
my uncle's return so tremhle at what his sentence would be
on Edward and myself, that even your kindness would not re-
move the weight ! and now, that I have found it all so ground-
Jess, and he is so kind so indulgent, I am so relieved, that I
fear I must have thought more of his anger than the anger of
God. My sm remains the same in His sight, though you and
uncle Hamilton have so fully for^ven it, and and I do not
tiiink I ought to feel so happy."
" Indeed, my dear Ellen, I tiiink you may. Our Heavenly
Father is still more merciful than man, aa Mr. Howard so
clearly proved fo you, in the long conversation you had with
him. We know, by his Holy Word, that all he asks is sincere
repentance for sin, and a firm conviction that in Him only we
are made sufficiently righteous for our penitence fo he accepted.
I believe, Ellen, that His foi^iveness was yours, long before I
could give you mine, for He could read your heart, and saw
the reason of your silence, and all the remorse and suffering,
which, from the appearances, against you, I might not even
guess ; and that, in His compassionating love and pity, He per-
mitted your increased trial ; ordaining even the failure of the
relief to Edward, to convince you, that, not even in such a
fearful case as yours, might error, however involuntary, pros-
per. I can trace His loving providence even in the fact of
your finding one more note than yon wanted, that discovery
might thence come, which, without such a seeming chance, was.
humanly speaking, impossible. He has shown compassion and
love for you and Edward, in the very sufferings He ordainci
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358 HOME INFLUENCL.
So do not elieck your returaiug happiness, fearing it must be
unacceptable to Him. Try to trace all things, either of joy or
sorrow, to Him. Associate Him with your every thought, and
beliepe me, my own Ellen, your very happiness will both draw
you nearer to Him, and be an acceptable offering in his sight."
Ellen listened eagerly, gratefully ; she felt as if, with everj
word Mrs. Hamilton said, (he film of doubt and vagtte fancies
was dissolving from her mind, and, after a short pause, she
" Then you do not think, aunt Emmeline, my inahdity to
pray for so long a time, was a proof that God had utterly for-
saken me ? It made me still more wretched, for I thought it
was a sure sign that I was so irredeemably wicked, He had
left me to the devices of my own heart, and would never love
01" have mercy oa me again. Even after you had quite for-
given me, and proved to me my promise was a mistaken one
and not binding, I still felt the difficulty to pray, and it was so
painful."
Such inability is very often so entirely physical, my dear
Ellen, that we must not think too much about it. Our simple
duty is to iersevere, however little satisfactory our devotions ;
and put our firm trust m our heavenly Father, that He will
heal ua, and permit Hia countenance so to shine upon us again,
as to derive comfort from our prayers. Tour inability before
your illness was the natural consequence of Mr. Howard's
severe representations, which he has since assured me, he never
would have used, if he could have had the least idea of the
cause of your silence. You, my poor child, were sufiering too
much, from a complete chaos of conflicting feehngs and duties,
to be able to realize this, and I am not at all astonished, that
when you most yearned for the comfort of prayer and trust, the
thought that by your silence you were failing in your duty- to
me and so disobeying God, should utterly have prevented it.
Since your severe illness the inability has been entirely physi-
cal. As strength and jwaee return, you will regain the power,
and realize aJl its comfort. Try, aad under all feelings trust in
and love God, and do not be too much elated, when you can
think serionsly and pray joyfully, nor too desponding when both
fail you. In our present state, physical causes alone, so often
occasion these differences of feeling in hours of devotion, (hat
if we thought loo much about them, we should constantly tnmk
wrong, and be very miserable. Try and prove your desire tc
love and sarve God, in your dail^ conduct and tecret though.U_
my Ellen, and you will be able to judge of your spiritual im
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HOME ISFLUEHCL. 359
pruvement fay action ^aA feeling, far more truly nnd jmtly tliaii
by the mood in which you pray."
The earnestness of truth. and feeling was always so impressed
on Mrs. Hamiltoa's reanner, whenever she addressed her youth-
ful charge, that her simplest word had weight. Happy indeed
is it when youth that season of bewildering doubt and ques-
tion, and TivJd, often mistaken fancies, and too impetuous feel-
ing has the rich blessing of such affectionate counsels, such a
friend. Why wUl not woman rise superior to the petty em-
ploymenfa and feelings too often alone attributed to her, and
endeavor to fit herself for such a thrice blessed mission; and
by sympathy with young enjoyments young hopes young
feelings, so attract young affections, that simDar counsels, simi-
lar experiences, may so help and guide, that the restless mind
and eager heart quiesce info ail the calm, deep, beautiful cha-
racteristics, which so shuie forth in the true English wife the
true English mother!
A fortnight after Mr. Hamilton's arrival, Ellen was well
enough to go down stairs for part of the day, and even to read
and write a, little. She was sovery anxious to recommence her
studies, which for many months had been so painfully neglected,
that it was a great trial to her, to find her head was not yet
strong enough for the necessary application. There were
many, very many privations and trials, attendant oa convales-
cence after so severe an illness, known only to Ellen's own
heart, and to her aunt's quick sympathy ; and she very quickly
learned in them the meaning of Mrs. Hamilton's words regard-
ing religion in conduct and feeling, as well as in prayer. She
tried never to murmur, or dwell on the wish for pleasures which
were denied her, but to think only on the many blessings which
surrounded her. It was not an easy task so to conquer natural
feeling, especially as the trial atid its conquest was ofteij known
only to herself; but the earnest wish, indeed, to become holy
in daily conduct, as well- as in daily prayer, never left her mind,
and so enabled her at length folly to obtain it.
If Mrs. Hamilton had wanted eyidence of her husband's pub-
lic as well as domestic worth, she would have had it fully now.
His danger and his preservation once known, letters of regard
and congratulation poured upon him, and Montrose GrahamB
made a journey down to Oakwood expressly to welcome back,
and express his individual gratitude for his friend's safety to
his youthful preserver. But Edward so shrunk from praise or
admiration, that his uncle, rejoicing at the feeling, would nol
press him, as he had first intended, to accompany Him to Ox
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''fiO HOME INFLUKNCE.
ford, where he went to see his sons. Percy rated him sonndly
in a letter for not coming. Herbert seemed, as if he could
only think of his father's danger, and thank God for his safety,
and for permitting Edward to be the means. So great was the
desire of Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton to re-assemble all their happy
family once more, before Edward left them, that the young men
made an exception to their geoeral rule, and promised to spend
Easter week at home. It was early in March, ar.d anticipated
by the home party with the greatest delight.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE KICH AND THE TOOK.
" "Wk ha^e had such a delightful excursion, mamma, EUt'ii,
how I do wish you could have been with us ! " joyously ex-
claimed Emmeline, as she ran into the usual sitting-room, oce
of those lovely afternoons, that tlie first days of March so often
bring, promising spring long before she really comes. "It is
such a picturesque cottage, and Dame Ckillins, and Suaan, and
a .host of little ones, look so nice, and so clean, and so pretty,
and happy; it does one's heart good to look at them."
"Are you sure you cannot find another adjective to apply to
them, Emmy ? You have heaped so many together, that it ia
a pity you cannot find a few more."
"But they really do look so comfortable, and are so grateful
for all yon and papa have done for them: Emmeline's descrip-
tion for once, is not too flowing," rejoined the quieter Caroline,
who had followed her sister into the room.
"And were they pleased with your visit? " asked Ellen.
"Oh, delighted! particularly at our making their pretty little
parlor our dining-room, and remaining so long with them, that
they could show us all their comforts and conveniences, with-
out any bustle."
" Mrs, ColUns is really a sensible woman. Do you not think
so, mamma?" inquired Caroline.
"Yes, my deaa-. She has brought up her own large family
and her poor orphan grandchildren so admirably, ia the midsl
of their extreme poverty, and bears such a name for Jjindness
among her still poorer neighbors, that I truly respect and ad
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HOME - INFLUENCE. 361
mire lier. She is quite one of those in whom I have often told
you s(ine of the very loftiest virtues are to be found; and yet
to see her, as she trudges about in her homely, humble fashion,
never dreaming she is doing or has doae any thing remarkable
in her hard-working life, who would suspect it?"
"Only look, EDen, how beautifully our collecfion will be
increased," continued Emmeline, who just at that moment was
only alive to pleasure, not to contemplation, even of goodness,
in which she much delighted, and pouring into her cousin's lap
a basket of beautiful shells and other marine treasures. "Papa
has just given us a new cabinet in time, though he only thought
of it as a place for his Faroe curiosities. To think of his
remembering our tastes even there!"
" But where did you get these from? "
" Why, the children were playing with some, whigh were so
perfect, I could not help admiring them, and Mrs. Collins was
in a bustle of pleasure that I liked any thing so trifling, because
she could gratify me, and she made me take all these, adding,
tliat her good man would be sure to look out for some more for
us ; for when I told her they not only pleased me, but my poor
invalid cousin, who was Edward's sister, you should have seen
how her eyes sparkled."
" Oh, you have quite won the dame's heart, Emmy ! " said
Miss Harcourt. " What with talking to her, and. to Susan, and
playing with every one of the chDdren, and making them tell
you all their plays and their schooling, and then gathering you
a nosegay, telling them it should adorn your room at home!"
"And so it shall," gayly interrupted Emmeline ; " I desired
Robert to put them in water directly, for they were very pretty,
and I like them better than the best bouquet from our green-
house,"
"I do not quite agree with you, Emmeline," said Caroliae,
smiling.
"Not you, Lina, who ever thought you would? by-the-by, I
never saw you so agreeable and natural in a poor man's cottage
in my life. What were you saying to Dame Collins ? " actually
holding her hand, and something very bright shining in your
eye."
" Dear Emmy, do not run on so," whispered Ellen, as she
noticed Caroline's cheek crimson. Emmeline was at her side
m a moment, with an arm round her neck,
" Caroline, dear, forgive me. I did not mean to toase you :
only it was unusual, was it not ? "
' I was trying to tell Mrs. Collins al! 1 thought of her hns'
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
862 HOJIE INFLUESCE.
band's share in saving our dear father, Emmy. I forgot al! of
folly and pride then."
" "Ybil are very seldom proud now, dearest Lina, and I waa
the foolish one not to h^ye guessed what you were saying, with
out tormenting you. Mamma, do you know I have such an
admirable plan in my head ? "
"First tell mamma," interrupted Caroline, "that William
Grey has chosen to be a partner with Collins in the more
extended fishing and boating business, which papa has secured
them, instead of entering into business by himself; Ihis has
been settled since you were there, I think."
" Yes, my dear, I did not know it ; hut Mrs. ColKns muat
like it, for she regretted very much that her sons were aE scat-
tered in difierent trades, and her little grandson, whose taste
pointed to the sea, was not oid enough to go out with his grand-
father."
" But only listen to my plan, mamma, dear ! WOIiam Grey
and Susan Collins cannot possibly see much of each other,
without falling in love; and they will make such an industrious,
pretty couple, and papa will give them a cottage to themselves,
and I will go to their wedding ! "
"Just such a plan as I should expect from your giddy brain,
Emmy. But how do you know that Grey has any desire for
a wife?"
"Oh, because Edward said he could not help remarking,
even ill the midst of that awful scene, how mournfully he said
he would bear a hand, for he. had neither mother, sister, nor
wife io pipe for him ; now, if he married Susan, he would have
a very pretty wife to lament him."
" Poor Susan, I fancy she would rather not become his wife,
if it be only to mourn for him, Emmy ; rather a novel reason
for a marriage, certainly."
"Oh, but mamma, dear! you know that I don't mean exactly
and only that ; somebody to be interested for, and love him.
No one can be happy without thaL"
" Susan was telling me, mamma, how thankful she is to you,
for finding her and her sister employment, that they might be
able to help the family," rejoined Caroline. "I was quite
pleased with her manlier of speaking, and she blushed so pret-
tily when Miss Harcourt praised the extreme neatness of hei
"Ah, mamma, if you could hut hear all they say of you ! '
again hurst forth Emmeline, who it seemed could not be quiet,
going from one subject to another with the same eager zest i
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JIOMK WFLUENCG. 363
if. you liad but heard the old dame tell her astoaishment and
her pride, when she saw jou enter their former miserable hut.
and sitting down on an old sea-chest, invite her to tell, and
listened to all her troubles, just aa if you had been her equal,
and \e& such comfort and such hope behind you, as had not
been theirs for many a long day. She actually cried when she
spoke, and so did I, because she spoke so of wiy mother. Oh,
mother, darling, how proud your children ought to be, to belong
to one BO beloved, so revered by the poor, and the rich too, aa
you are ! "
" Flatterer ! " playfully answered Mi's. Hamilton, laying her
hand caressingly on her child's mouth, as she knelt in sport
before her. " I will not hear such praise, even from you. Be-
lieve me, darling, to win love and respect is so easy, so delight-
ful, that there is no merit in obtaining it. "We ought only to be
thankful, when granted such a shition and such inflaence as
will permit extended usefulness and thought for others, without
wron^g our own."
" Yes ; but, mamma, many people do a great deal of good,
but somehow or other they are not beloved,"
" Because, perhaps, in their earnest desire to accomplish a
great deal of good, tliey may not think quite enough of littlt
things, and of the quid: sympathy with other persons' feelhigs,
which is the real secret of winning love, and without which,
sometimes even the greatest benefit is not "valued as it ought to
be. But did you see old Collins himself? "
" He came in just before we left, and vras so delighted to see
papa sitting in his ingle-nook, and only wished Edward had
been there too."
"And where is youi" father?" asked Mrs. Hamilton. Did
he not return with you ?"
"Yes, but Edward wanted him, and they are in the library.
I am quite certain there is some conspiracy between them ;
Ihese long private interviews bode no good. I shall scold papa
for being so mysterious," s^d Emmeline.
I rather think he will return the beneflt, by scolding you
for being so curious, Emmy. But here is Edward, so the inter-
view to-day has not been very long."
" Has papa been telling you old Collins's naval news, Ned ? "
And, without waiting fer an answer, she continued, " that there
is a fine seventy-four, the Sea Queen, preparing at Plymouth,
to taite the place of your old ship, and send back Sir EdwartI
Manly and the Prince William. Now do not tell me you know
this, Edward, and so disappoint ms of the rare pleasure of tell
ing news."
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8G4 HOME INFLUENCE.
"I ftta sorry, Emmy, but I have known it for some wectp,'
"And why did you not tell ua ? "
" Because I did not thinlt it woald particularly interest you,
until I cou!d add other intelligence to it." He stopped, and
looked alteroately at Mrs, Hamilton and Ellen, as if asking the
former whether he might proceed.
"And can you do so now, my dear Edward?" she replied,
understanding him at once. " Ellen is too anxious for your
advancement to expect, or wish you always to remam with her.
Have you your appointment ? "
" Yes, aunt. My uncle's letter fo the admiralty brought an
answer at last. It came while he was out, and has been tanta-
lizing me on the library-table for four hours. But it is all right.
As the Prince "William, is returning, and I am so anxious to be
still in active service, I am permitted, though somewhat against
rule, to have a berth in the Sea Queen. I am sure it is all
uncle Hamilton's representations, and I am so thankful, so
glad ! "
" To leave us all, again, you unfeeling savage ! " exclaimed
Emmeline, trying to laugh off the universal regret at this an-
nouncement. Ellea had looked earnestly at her brother all the
time he spoke, and then turned her face away, and a few quiet
tears trickled down her cheek. Edward's arm was very quickly
round her, and he whispered so many fond words and eai'nest
assurances, united with his conviction that it would stilt be a
whole month, perhaps more, before he should be summoned, as
he had leave to remain with his family till the Sea Queen was
ready to sail, that she rallied her spirits, and, after remaining
very quiet for an hour, which was always her custom when she
had had any struggle with herself, for the frame felt it though
neither word nor sign betrayed it she was enabled fully to
enjoy the grand delight of the evening Percy's and Herbert's
arrival.
Easter week was indeed one of family joy and thankfulness,
not only that they were all permitted once more to be together,
but that the heavy clouds of sin and suffering had rolled away
from their roof, and pleasure of the sweetest and most enduring
because moat domestic kind, reigned triumphant. Percy's as-
tonishment at Edwai'd's growth, and the alteration from- the
handsome, joyous, rosy boy, to the pale, almost care-worn look-
ing youth (for as long as Ellen bore such vivid traces of aU she
had endured for his sake, and was, as it were, the constant
presenca of his errors, Edward tried in vain to recover hii
former spirits,) was most am.using
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME IKFLUENCE. 365
* Yon aro all deceived," he would declare , one of tl ese
clays you will diseoyer you have been receiving a pu o Ed
ward Fortescue, and that he is as much a p etend a ha
namesake, Charles Edward."
"Then he is no pretender, Percy. He ia aa truly the son of
Colonel Fortescue, as Prince Gharlea was the grandson of
James. Now don't begin a civil contest directly you come
home; you know you and I never do agree on historical sub-
jects, and we never shall; you hate Mary the great, great,
great grandmother of Prince Charles, and I love her, so we
must be always at war."
" Stuart^mad, as usual, Tiny! but if that really be Edward,
I wish he would just look a boy again, I don't like the change at
all; poor fellow!" he added, to himself, "it is not much wonder."
The days passed much to quickly. Emiaeline wished a
dozen times that the days would be twenty-four, instead of
twelve hours long. The weather was so genial that it added
to enjoyment, and allowed Ellen the delight, known only to
Buch prisoners to sickness as she had been, of driving out for
an hour or two at a time, and taking gentle walks oa the ter-
race, and in the garden. The young men were to return on the
Monday, and on the Saturday previous a little excursion had
been planned, to which the only drawback was that Ellen was
not quite strong enough to accompany them: it was to Tisit
Alice Seaton, whom we mentioned in a former chapter. Mr.
Hamilton had succeeded in finding her brother a lucrative em-
ployment with a lawyer in one of the neighboring towns, a few
miles from where she and her aunt now lived, enabling young
Seaton to spend every Sabbath with them ; and Alice now kept
a girls' school on her own account, and conducted herself so
well aa never to want scholars. It had been a long promise to
go and see her, the drive from Oakwood being also most beau-
tiful; and as she and her brother were both at home and at
leisure the last day in Easter, it had been fixed upon for the
visit. Percy was revelling in the idea of driving hia mother
and Miss Harcourt in a new barouche, and the rest of the party
were to goon horse-back. But a dispute had arisen who should
Btay with EUen, and Edward insisted upon it, it was his right;
and so they thought it was agreed.
"I wish, dear Percy you would prevail on Edward to aeeom-
pany you," pleaded Ellen, fancying herself alone with him, not
seeing Herbert, who was reading at a distant table.
"I wish, dear Ellen, you were going with us," he answered,
mimicking her tone.
IT
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
366 HOME INFLUENCE.
"But as I cannot, make him go. It always makes him mora
nnhappy wiien I am prevented any pleasure, than it does my-
self; and. I cannot bear to keep Mm by me four or five hours,
when thia lovely day, and the exercise of riding, and, above all,
your company, Percy, would make him, at least for the time,
ftlmost his own merry self^ agairu"
"Thanks for the implied compliment, cousin mine," replied
Percy, with a low bow.
"Reward me for it, and make him go."
"How can I be so angallanf, as to make him leave you
iilone?"
" Oh, I do not mind it, I assure you ! " I am well enough- to
amuse myself now; I cannot bear you all giving up so many
pleasures as you have done for me; I am so afraid of getting
selfish."
"You selfish, Ellen? I wish you were a little more so; you
are the most patient, devoted little creature that ever took
woman's form. You have made me reproach myself enough, I
can tell yoii, and I owe you a grudge for doing so."
"Dear Percy, what can yoa mean? If you knew how hard
I find it to be patient, sometimes, yoa would not praise me."
"I mean that the last time I was at home, I was blind and
cruel, and added to your sufferings by my uncalled-for harsh-
ness, and never had an opportunity till this moment, to say how
grieved I was when the truth was known."
"Pray do not sayany thing about it, dear Percy," entreated
his cousin, the tears starting to her eyes, as he kissed her
warmly ; it was only just and natural that you should have felt
indignant with me, for causing auntEmmefine so much misery,
and alloying all the enjoymentof your holidays. I am sure you
need not reproach yourself; but will you make Edward go?"
" If it really will oblige you, Ellen ; but I do not half like it"
And he was going very reluctantly, when he met Herbert.
"You need not go, Percy," he said smiling; "my ungra^
cious cousin would not depute me as her messenger, but I made
myself such, and so successfully that Edward will go, Ellen,"
"Dear Herbert, how can I thank you enough! he will he so
ruuch happier with you all."
''Not with me," said Herbert, archly, "for I remain in his
place."
"Yai!" repeated Ellen, surprised; "indeed, dear Herbert,
it must not be. I shall do very well alone."
."Ungracious still, Ellen! what if I have been looking all the
poniing for some excuse to stay at home, without owning tfi
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 367
my motbur the truth that I do not feel to-day quite equal to
riding? If your looks were as ungracious as your words, I
would run away from you into my own room; but as they are
rather more gratifying to my self-love, we will send them all
away, and enjoy our own quiet pleasures and your little drive
together, Nell."
Whatever Ellen might have said to convince him she coulij
be happy alone, tbe beaming look of pleasure on her counte-
nance, satisfied all parties as to the excellence of this arrange-
ment; and happy, indeed, the day was. Herbert seemed to
understand her unexpressed feelings so fully; and that always
makes tbe charm of conversation, whatever its subject. We do
not require the expression in words of sympathy it is an in-
describable something that betrays its existence. Favorite au-
thors and Herbert was almost surprised at Ellen's dawning
taste and judgment in literature the delights of nature after
a long confinement, as if every flower were more sweet, every
bit of landscape, or wood, or water more beautiful, and the
many holy thoughts and pure joys springing from such feelings,
were all discussed, either cosily in their sitting-room, or in their
ramble In the garden; and after Ellen's early dinner, which
Herbert shared with her as lunch, she proposed, what she
knew he would like, that her drive should be to Greville Manor,
and they might spend a full hour with their friends, and yet be
back in time. Herbert assented gladly ; and the warm wel-
come they received. Mis. Greville's kmd care of EUen, and
Mary's eager chat with her and Herbert, and tbe rmmber of
things they seemed to find to talk about, made the hour literally
fly ; but Herbert, enjoyable as it was, did not foi^t his charge,
and drove her back to Oakwood while the sun still shone bright
and warmly : and when the party returned, which they did only
just in time to dress for dinner, and in the wildest spirits, the
balance of pleasure at home and abroad, would certainly have
been found quite equal.
Ellen still continued quietly to He down in her own i-oom
while the family were at dinner, for she was then sufiiciently
refreshed to join them for a few hours in the evening, Percy
and Emmeline, at dinner that day, kept up such a flre of wit
and mirth, that it was somewhat difficult for any one else to
edge in a word, though Edward and Caroline did sonielimes
contrive to bring a whole battery gainst themselves. Just as
the dessert was placed on the table, however, sounds of rural
music in tbe distance, advancing nearer and nearer, caused
Percy to pause in his wild sallies, and spring with Edward to
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
868 HOME INFLUENCE.
Ihe window, and their exclamations soon compelled all thH
party to follow their example, and send for Ellen U see the un-
expected sight too. Banners and pennons floated in the siin-
shine, and the greater part of the nautical inhabitants of Dart-
mouth were marshalled in goodly array beside them, headed by
Captain Harvey and his crew, with Collins in the midst of
them; they were all attired in the new clothing which Mr. Ha-
milton had presented to them ; and a fine picture Percy declar-
ed old Collina's head would make, with his weather-beaten,
honest-speaking face, the very peculiar curls in which his really
yellow hair was twisted, and the quid of tobacco, from wtich,
eyen on this grand occasion, he could not relieve his mouth and
cheek. A band of young men and girls surrounded the first
banner, which, adorned with large bunches of primroses and
violets up the staff, bore the words, "Hamilton and benevo-
lence ; " aud among them Emmeline speedly recognized William
Grey and Susan Collins, walking side by side, she looking down
and smiling, and he so earnestly talking, that she whispered to
her mother with the greatest glee, that her plan would take
place after all. Then came a band of sturdy fishermen, chums
and messmates of Collins, and then a hand of boys and girls,
fi-om all Mr, Hamilfou's own viUage schools, decked in their
holiday attire, and holding in their hands tasteful garlands of alt
the spring flowers they could muster, and bearing two largo
banners, one with the words, "Fortescue forever! All hail to
British sailors!" and the other a representation of the scene
on. the beach that eventful night, and the sinking vessel in the
distance. The workmanship was rude indeed, but the effect so
strikingly descriptive, that Mrs. Hamilton actually shuddered
as she gazed, and grasped, almost unconsciously, the arm of her
nephew as he stood by her, as if the magnitude of the danger.
Doth to Lim and her husband, had never seemed so vivid before.
The windows of the dining-room had been tiirown widely
open, and as the rustic procession came in sight of those to
whom their whole hearts tendered homage, they halted ; the
music ceased, and cheer on cheer resounded, tOl the very
echoes of the old park were startled out of their sleep, and
sent the shout back again. Percy was among them in a mo-
ment, singling out old ColUns, whom he had tried repeatedly
to see since his visit home, but never found him, and grasped
and shook both his hands with the full vehemence of his cha-
racter, "pouring out the first words that chose to con e, which
better expressed his grateful feelings to the old man than the
most studied speech. Wilham Grey had already received sub-
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 369
9tantial proofs of hia gratitude, and so he had then only a kind
nod, and a joke and look at the pretty, blushing Susan, which
said a vast deal to both, and seemed as if he quite seconded
Emmeline's plan. Mingling joyously with all, he had bluff
words, after their cwn hearts, for the men, smiles for the maid-
sns, and such wild jokes for the children, as lost them all de-
corum, and made them shout aloud in their glee. Herbert se-
conded him quite as well as his quieter nature would allow.
Edwaffd had hung back, even when his name was called .oat
lustily, as if he could not hear such homage.
" Joia them, my boy ; their humble pleasure will not be half
complete without you," whispered Mrs. Hamilton, earnestly, for
6he guessed his thoughts. " Remember oaly at this moment
the large amount of happiness you have been permitted to caJ'
forth. Do not underrate a deed which all must admire, because
of some sad thoughts ; rather resolve as you can and have
resolved that the alloy shall be burned away, and the true
metal alone remain, for my sake, to whom you have given such
happiness, dear Edwai-d."
The cloud dispersed from brow and heart in a moment ; and
he was in the midst of them, glad and buoyant almost as Percy,
whilg the cheer which greeted him was almost overpowering to
his sister, so much humble, yet earnest feehng did it speak.
" You really should have given us timely notice of your in-
tentions, my good friend," said Mr. Hamilton, warmly grasping
Captain Harvey's hand. " At least we might have provided
some substantial refreshment after your loag march, as I fear we
have but slender fare to offer you, though Ellis and Morris are
busy already, I am happy to see."
And urged on hy their own delight at this homage both to
Iheir master and his young preserver, who had become a com-
plete idol among them, a long tablfe was speedily laid in the
servants' hall, covered with a variety of cold meats, and bread
and cheese in abundance, and horns of cider sparkling brightly
beside eah trencher. Fruit and cakes eagerly sought for by
Emmeline, were by her distributed largely to the children, who
remained variously grouped on the lawn, their glee at the treat
heightened by the sweet and gentle manner of its testowal.
Captain Harvey and his mate, Mr. Hamilton entertained
himself, introducing them to his family, and especially Ellen,
who, as the sister of Edward, found herself regarded with an
interest that surprised her. Percy brought in old Collins and
Grey, both of whom had expressed such a wish to see any one
BO neai-ly belonging to the brave young sailor ; and her manner
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
370 HOME INFLUENCE.
of receiving aiid returning their greeting, tlianking tlieti'. for tlie
help they had bo, efSciently-givea her hrother, made them still
prouder and happier than before. After an hour and a half
of thorough enjoyment for their humble homage to worth
and goodness had been received in the same spirit as it had
been tendered the procession loarshalled itself in the same
order as it had come ; and rude as the music was, it sounded,
as Emmeline declared, really beautiful, becoming fainter and
fainter in the distance, and quit* picturesque the effect of the
banners and pennons, as they gleamed in and out the woody
windings of the park, both music and procession softened in the
mild, lovely twilight of the season.
CHAPTER XV.
A HOME 8CEHB, AND A PAKTINtl.
" Caroline ! Emmeline ! come to the luosic-room, for pity's
sate, and give me some delicious harmony," exclaimed Percy,
as soon as lights came, and the excitement of the last two hours
had a little subsided. "Sit quiet unless I have some amuse-
ment for my ears I neither can nor wilL I wiU have some
mosic to lull my (Jred senses, and a waltz to excite my wearied
frame."
"And rest your limbs," said Edward, dryly.
" Don't you know, master sailor, that when fatigued with one
kind of exercise, the best rest.is to take another ? Now I have
been standing up, playing the agreeable, for two mortal hours,
and I mean to have a waltz to bring back the stagnant circula-
tion, and to be pleased for the fatigue df pleasing, Caroline
and Emmehne, away with you both. EUen, love, I will only
ask you to come witii us, and be pleased, too. Be off, Edward,
no one shall be my cousin's cavaher but myself; Herbert has
had her all day. Take my mother, if you like. Father, escort
Miss Harcourt. That's all right, as it always is, when I have
ray own way ! "
His own way, this time, gave universal satisfaction. The ta^
lents of his sisters had been so cultivated, as a means of en-
hancing home-happiness, and increasing their own i-esourees,
that their musical evenings were always perfect enjoyment
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME raFLUENCK. 371
(jaroline, indeed, improTed as she was, still retained her love
. of admiration sufficiently, to find still greater enjojinent in
playing and singing when there were more to listea to her,
than merely her own family, hut the feeling, in the security and
pure atmosphere of Oakwood, was kept under control, and she
could find real pleasure in gratifying her brothers, though not
quite to the eame extent as Emmelinc.
Percy, after comfortably settling Ellen, threw himself on the
most luxurious chair that he could flud, stretched out his legs,
placed his head in what he called t"he hest position for listening
and enjoying, and then called for duets on the harp and piano,
single pieces on both, and song after song, with the most merci-
less rapidity.
" Your sisters shall neither play nor sing to you any more,"
his mother, at length, laughingly, said, " unless you rouse your-
self from this disgracefully idle fit, and take your flute, and
join them."
" Mother, you are lost to every sensation of mercy ! aftr all
my exertions, where am I to find breath ? "
" You have had plenty of time to rest, you lazy fellow ; let-
ting your sisters fatigue themselves, without remorse, and refus-
ing your share," expostulated Edward. " Caroline, Emmeline,
take my advice, and strike I don't play another note."
"You young rebel! teaching my sisters to revolt against the
authority of such an important person &s myself. However, I
will be condescending for once ; Tiny, there's a love, fetch me
my flute."
It was so very close to him as he approached the piano, that
his sister comically took his hand, and placed it on it, and two
or three very pretty trios were performed, Percy declared with
professional ecldt
" Now don't go, Percy, we want your voice in a song. Em-
my, sing that pretty one to your harp, that wo wish papa so
much to hear ; Percy and I will join, when wanted."
" Caroline, I have not the genius to sing at sight."
" Oh, you have often I and the words wiU inspire you,
Come, Herbei-t, we want you, too ; Edward's singing voice has
deserted him, or I should enlist him also. Emmeline, what are
you wMting for ? "
"I cannot sing it, dear Caroline ; do not ask me," answered
Emmeline, with a confusion and timidity, which, at home, were
perfectly incomprehensible,
" Why, my little Emmy, I am quite curious to hear this new
eong do not disappoint me I " said her father, encouragingly.
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
o72 HOME iNFLTJENCE.
"But after (Jai-oline I cannot sing worth heEring," still
pleaded Emmeline.
" My dear child, I never heard you make such a foolish ex-
cuse before ; your mother aud myself never find any difference
in the pleasure that listening to your music bestows, however
flne performer may be more naturally gifted, than the other."
" I declare I must sing it if it be only for the mystery of
Tiny's refusing," said Percy, laughing. " Come, Bertie a
MS. too what a trial for one's nerves."
The words, however, seemed sufBciently satisfactory for them
readily to join in it. Emmeline still hesitated, almost painfully j
but then gathering courage, she sat down to her harp, and,
without any notes before her, played a few bars of one of those
sweet, thrilling Irish melodies, so suited to her instrument, an5
then commenced her song, the sweetness of her voice, and
clearness of articulation atoning well for her deficiency in the
power and brilliancy which characterized her sister. The words
were exceedingly simple, but aung with deep feeling, ani heart-
appealmg aa they were, from the subject, we hope our readers
will judge them as leniently as Emmeline's hearers.
EMMEUNE-S SONG,
all sorrow
mahrined :
' Joy ! iov 1 No more shall
"TIlB fioi
omebjLovf
ts in Care's i
onger o'er
jyl The I
and starless night
Joy! joyT The fotnre is all bright
With roay-blosaom'ii hoiiiB.
What gladness with our Father fled!
What gladness ha'll restore I
He has retnm'd, through perils dread.
" Joy 1 Joy! Oh let our vi^ces raise
Their glad aud grateful lay.
And pour forth tlianksgiving luid prdae
Thut grief hath passed away I
That he was snafch'd from storm and wai
; had at first ti'cmblcd audibly, but
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME raFLTJENCE. 373
ia derive courage from Ler sister and brother's accompanimeuf,
wliich, from their knowledge of music, was so beautifully mo-
dulated as to permit her sweet voice to be heard above all, and
every word clearly distinguished, it became firmer and more
earnest as she continued, till she forgot every thmg but the sub-
ject of her song. For full a minute there was silence as she
ceased, but with an irresistible impulse Mr. Hamilton rose from
his seat, and, as Emmeline left her harp, he clasped her in his
" How caa I thank you, my Emmeline, and all my children,
for this fond greeting?" he exclaimed, with more emotion than
he generally permitted to be visible. "Where could you find
such appropriate words ? What I tears, my little girl," he added,
as, completely overcome by the excitement of her song and her
father's praise, Emmeline most unexpectedly burst into tears.
"What business have they to come when you have given your
parents nothing but pleasure? Drive them away, love ; what!
still no smile? We must appeal to mamma's iiiflufence, then,
to explain and soothe them."
" Where did you get them, Tiny ? explain, for I am positively
faint from curiosity," comically demanded Percy, aa Emmeline,
breaking from her father, sat down on her favorite stool at her
mother's feet, and hid her face in her lap, Mrs. Hamilton laid
her hand caressingly on those soft curls, but though she smiled,
she did not speak,
" She will not tell, and you will none of you guess," said
Caroline, laughing.
"You are in the secret, so out with it," said Edward.
" Not I ; I am pledged to silence."
"Mother, dear, tell us for pity," pleaded Herbert.
"I can only guess, for I am not In her confidence, I assure
you," she replied, in the same playful tone, and raising Emme-
line's lowered head, she looked a moment iu those conscious
eyes. "Dictated by my Emmeline's affectionate little heart,
they were found in Uiia pretty shape, in the recesses of her own
fanciful brain is not that it, dearest ? "
"There, Emmy, I knew mamma would find it out, however
we might be silent," said Caroline, triumphantly, as her sister's
face was again concealed.
" Emmeline tamed poet ! Angels and ministers of grace de-
fimd me! I must hide my diminished head!" spouted Percy.
" I thought at least I might retain my crown aa the poet of the
family, and to be rivalled by you a hght-footed fawn wild
gaaelle airy sprite my especiji Tiny! it is unbearable I"
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
874 UUME INFLUEKCE.
"But we must all tJiaiik you, notwithstandiiig, Emmy," con-
tinued Herbert.
"Ah, but 1 have very little to do with it ; the arrangement,
of the words to the air, and the aeeompaniment, are Caroline's ;
I couid not have done that," said Emmeline; her tears changed
to her most joyous smiles.
Percy and hia father turned directly to Caroline, the former
with a Sir Charles Grandison's bow, the other with a moat affec-
tionate kiss ; and her mother looked at her with such an espres-
sion of gratified pleasure, that she could not help acknowledging
to herself, such pure enjoyment was not to be found in the
praise and admiration of strangers.
"Now, Emmeline, yoti have still a mysteiy to explain," said
Edward. "Why did. you not own your offspring, instead of,
by silence, almost denying them ? "
"And here I really cannot help you," answered Mrs. Ham-
ilton; "I cannot imagine why my Emmy should conceal a fact
that could only give pleasure to us all."
" I think 1 know," Siod Ellen, timidly ; " Emmeline was think-
ing of all you said about controlling au impulse, and not always
encouraging that which she termed inspiration, and perhaps she
thought you did not quite approve of her writing, and so wished
to conceal it"
" How could you guess so exactly, Ellen ? " .hastily answered
Emmeline, forgetting, in her surprise at her cousin's penetration,
that she betrayed herself.
" Because I should have felt the same," said Ellen, simply.
"Then I must have explained myself very badly, my dear
children, or you must have both misunderstood me. I did not
mean you to neglect such an enjoyment as poetry, but only to
keep it in its proper sphere, and not allow it to take the place
of resources, equally intellectual, but which have and may still
cost you more patience and labor. Poetry is a dangerous gift,
my dear child; but as long as you bring it to the common trea-
sury of Home, and regard it merely as a recreation, only to be
enjoyed when less attractive duties and studies are completed,
you have my full permission to cultivate and try, by the study
of our best authors, and whatever other help I can obtain for
you, to improve yourself in iL No talent that is lent us should
be thrown aside, my Emmehne; our only care must be, not
by loving and pursuing it too intensely to aiuse it; but I
must not lecture you any longer, or Percy's patience will fail;
1 see he has placed Miss Harcourt already at the piano, and
Edward and Caroline are ready for their waltz."
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. S75
'And so I transform one Muse into another," exelaimed
i'orcy, who, in his sister's abaorhed attention, had neared her
anobsei-ved, aad catching her round the waist, bore her to the
ttppep end of the room, and a minute afterward she was enjoy-
ing her waltz, with as much childish glee, as if neither poetry
nor reflection could have any thing to do with her,
" Why is poetry a dangerous gift, dear aunt ? " inquired Eilen,
who had listened earnestly to all Mrs. Hamilton had said.
" Because, my love, it is very apt to excite and encourage an
over-excess of feeling ; gives a habit of seeing things other than
they really are, and eugenders a species of romaafie enthusiasm,
most dangerous to the young, especially of our sex, whose feel
ings generally require control and repression, even when not
joined to poetry. To a well-regulated mind and temper, the
danger is not of the same serious kind as to the irregulated, but
merely consists in the powerful temptation it too oiten presents
to neglect duties and employments of more consequence, for its
iaduigonce. There is a species of fascination in the composition
of even the most inferior poetry, which urges its pursuits, as giv-
ing so little trouble, compared to the perseverance necessary for
music and drawing, and such a vast amount of pleasure, that it
is difBcult to withdraw from it. This is still more strongly the
case when the young first become conscious of the gift, as Em-
meline is now. As she gets older, and her taste improves, she
will not be satisfied with her efforts, unless they are very supe-
rior to the present, a&d the trouble she will tsdce in correcting
and improving, will remove a great deal of the too dangerous
fascination attending it now ; stiU I am not anxious, while she
j-etains her confidence in my affection and experience, and, will
60 control the enjoyment, as not to permit its interference with
her other more serious employments."
Ellen listened eagerly, and they continued conversing on
many similar topics of interest and improvement, till the prayer
beU rang, and stai-tled her into the recollection that she bad
always retired nearly an hour before, and so had avoided enter-
ing the library, which she still quite shrunk from. Percy stop-
ped his dance, which he had converted from a waltz into a most
inspiring gallopade, the last importation, he declared, from Ai-
mack's; Miss Harcourt closed the piano ; and Herbert paused
in his conversation with his father. Kothing like gloom ever
marked the signal for the hoar of devotion, but lighter pleasures
always ceased a few minutes before, that they might better
realize the more serious thought and service.
Mrs. Hamilton had never ceased to regret tlie disgrace she
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
S76 HOME INFLUENCE.
had juflicted on Ellen, in nol permitting her fo retain hei' own
place with the famUy, at least in the hours of devotion, for it
seemed more difficult to remove that impression thai any of he*
other trials. Returning her niece's startled look with one of
the aincerest affection, she said
"You wiU remiua with us to-night, my dear Ellen, will you
uot ? "
" If you wish it, aunt."
" I do wish it, dearest, most earnestly. It is so long since I
have had the happiness of seeing ah my children round me in
this solemn hour, and till you join ua, I can not feel quite sure
that you have indeed forgiven an act of severity, which, could
I but have suspected the truth, I should never have inflicted."
" Forgiven ! yon ! " repeated Ellen, in utter astonishment,
but rising instantly. "Aunt Emmeline, dear aunt Emjneline,
pray, do not speak so; why did you not tell me your wish
before? I would have conquered my own disinclination to enter
the Ubrary, weeks ago ; iadeed, indeed, it only seemed assocaated
with my own guilt and misery."
Mrs. Hamilton drew her arm foijdly in here, refusing for her
the aid of either of the young men, who had all hastened toward
her, and led her herself to the library, and to her usual place
beside Emmelme. Many an eager but respectful look of affec-
tionate admiration was directed toward her by the assembled
household, the greater part of whom had not aeon her since the
night of Edward's confession; and the alteration in her appear-
ance, the universal sympathy which her dangerous illness and
its cause had called forth, even in the humblest and most igno-
rant for it is the heart, not the mind, which is required for the
comprehension of self-devotion her very youth seeming to in-
crease its jnagnitude, had inspired such a feeling of love, that
could she have known it, would have prevented that painful
sensation of shyness.
Many, many thoughts thronged her mind, as her uncie'a im-
pressive voice fell on her ear ; thoughts which, though they pre-
vented her following the words of the prayers, and caused the
tears, spite of every effort, to stream through her slender fingers,
yet turned into thankfulness and praise, ere the service ceased,
that, fiery as the ordeal had been, she could still recognize
hand of love, and bless God, not only for the detection of her
involuntary sin, but for every pang she had endured.
The next day was Sunday, brining with it ail sorts of quiet,
sober pleasures of its own, only alloyed by the thought that it
was the last day of Percy's and Herbert's visit The following
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 377
luoming ihiy started for Oxford, Mr. Hamilton and Edward
intending to accompany them part of the way, and then tc pro-
ceed to Ashburfon, where the fonner had business, and then
make a httle tour through Plymouth home. The next day was
BO beautifully fine and genial, that Enuneline declared it would do
Ellea the greatest possible good to go with her a few miles out
of the park, to see a waterfall she had lately discovered, and
which she had been longing for Ellen to see, as Caroline would
not admire it as much as it deserved. Miss Harcourt acom-
panied them, and on their return, its beauties were described to
Mrs. Hamilton in the most animating strain; Emmeline declar-
ing the air was more deliciously fresh, the trees more green, the
el:y more brilliantly blue, than they had ever been before ; and
that the very sound of the water, as it dashed down a black
rock, and threw up spray, which the rays of the sun rendered
so beautifully iridescent, as to seem like a succession of rain-
bows, was a whole volume of poetry in itself.
"And what extraordinary vision do you think that silly cousin
of mine chose to fancy she saw coming down the Ashburton
road, mamma? Actually the apparitions of papa and Edward.
She will persist in the fancy. Miss Harcourt and I could only
see two men on horseback, at loo great a distance for any iden-
tity to be recognized but it must be their wraiths, if it be, for
they had no idea of coming home to-day."
"I am sure I was not mistaken, Emmeline," said Ellen
(whom her aunt now observed looked agitated and flushed) ;
"and they were riding so fast, something very pressing must
have recalled them."
"And you are frightening yourself at shadows, my dear! but
indeed I think you must be mistaken, for your uncle told me,
he should be particularly engaged to-day," said Mrs. Hamilton.
"She is not mistaken, though," exclaimed Caroline, who was
standing at one of the windows ; "for here they both are, true
enough, and riding quite fast down the avenue. However, the
mystery will soon be solved."
Mr. Hamilton and Edward entered almost immediately after-
ward, the latter evidently very much agitated, the fonner so
tranquil and cheerful that the momentary anxiety of his wife
was calmed directly. He laughed at their bewilderment, and
said that aa important letter had reached him at Ashhurfrm,
summoning him to Plymouth, and so he thougl t he would just
see how all was going on at Oakwood first. This was not at
all a satisfactory reason from Mr, Hamilton. Edward evidently
tried lo answer Ellen's inrjuiries quietly, but he could not, and
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
378 HOME INFLUENCE.
esclaiming, " Tou tell ter, my dear ancle I I cannot," ran oat
of the room. Mr. Hamilton instantly changed his jesting man-
ner, so far as qnietly and affectionately to seat his niece hesiae
him, and tell her, cautiously and kindly, the real cause of then"
unexpected return. Orders had been sent to the Sea Queen,
to sail much sooner than was expected, and therefore he had
deferred his business, and returned with Edward directly.
" It is a trial, my dear EUen, a very hard one just now, under
all circumstances ; htit I am sure you will bear it with fortitude,
for Edward's sake. The only drawback to his happiness in
being again permitted, to follow his profession, is the thought
of the tria!, it will be to you."
" But when must we part ? "When must he leave Oakwood ? "
was all poor Ellen could ask ; but in such a tone of quiet sor
row, her uncle could not for the moment reply.
" The Sea Queen leaves Plymouth, wind permitting, the end
of the week, but Edward must be on board to-morrow."
A low cry escaped involuntarily from Ellen's lips, as she
buried her face on the cushion of the couch where she was sit-
ting, and an exclamation of surprise and regret broke from a!L
Mrs. Hamilton felt it almost as much as Ellen, from uot only
her own unspoken anxiety, as to whether indeed his home in-
fluence would save him from temptation in future, but that she
could enter into every thought and feeling which in Ellen must
so aggravate the actual parting always a sorrow in itself.
After a few minutes Ellen raised her head, and, though her
cheek was perfectly colorless, every tear was checked.
" Tell Edward he need not fear my weakness, dear Emme-
line," she said, trying hard to speak quite calmly. " Only ha^
him to come to me, that we may spend the little time we have
together ; I will be as cheerful as himself." And, effort as it
was, she kept her word ; so controlling sorrow, to enter into his
naturally glad anticipations,, that her brother felt as if he could
not love, nor venerate her enough.
He was obliged to leave Oakwood (accompanied by his uncle)
so early the next morning that all his preparations had to be
completed by that night. Ellis's actiTity, though she could not
endure the idea of his going, speedUy and satisfaotorily settled
that matter. Robert Laugford, who had only regained his
natural light-heartedness since EUen had taken her usual place
in the family, always declaring his carelessness had been the
origin of all her misery, was another so active in his service,
that Edward had only to give a hint of any thirg he wanted,
even if it could only be procured at some distant e, and it waa
instantly obtained.
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HOME niFLUKHCE. 379
The iiours were on, the evening devotions weru eoneluiled,
but still the family lingered in the library ; there seem.id so many
things to aay, for Mr. Hamilton and Miss Harcovirt would not
let the conversation flag, and Edward would talk and laugh, as
if he were only going from home for a few days. Midnight
chimed, but still Mrs. Hamilton felt as if she could not give tiie
signal for separation : but when one struck, there was a general
starts and aa unanimous declaration it could not be so late.
"I assure you it is," Mrs. Hamilton cheerfully said; "and
poor Edward will get no sleep, if we do not separate at once.
He must certainly send you a box of artificial roses, for this
unusual dissipation will bear all the natural ones away. Ellen,
bve, 1 must be cruel enough to resist that pleadmg look ; re-
member, your full strength has not yet returned."
She spoke kindly, but firmly, and there was a general move.
Edward, laughingly, promised to send his cousins the very best
box of rouge he could procure at Plymouth, and wished them
good night as gayly as if they should meet aa usual the next
morning. Once only hia voice faltered "Ellen, love, good
night 1 My own sister, God in Heaven bless you I " were ail
he said the last sentence escaping as if involuntarily, as if he
had merely meant to say good night ; and for more than a minutri
the brother and sister were clasped in each other's arms. Thero
were tears in Mrs. Hamilton's eyes, and her husband's were
most unwontedly dim, for words were not needed to reveal to
them the trial of that moment to those two young hearts. To
EDen's especially, for her lot was woman's 'to endure until
time should prove the reality of Edward's resolution, and mark
i''rt indeed the noble character his disposition so fondiy pro-
mised. His was active service, the banishment of thought by
deed. Breaking from her brother, and not daring to address
either her aunt or unde, lest her control should fail her too soon,
Ellen hastened from the room.
" Gio to her, aunt Emmeline ; oh, tell her I will never, never
cause her to suffer again ! " implored Edward, as soon as he
could speak, and clasping his aunt's hand. " She has been
struggling with herself the whole evening for my sake, and she
will su&r for it to-morrow, unless she give it vent, and she will
waep less painfully if you speak of comfort."
" She will be better alone a little while, my dear boy ; young
as she is, she knows where to seek and find comf jrt, and her
team would flow more freely, conscious only of the presence
and healing of her Grod. I shall not part from you now. Ellis
wanted me for some directions about your thiaga, and I will
come to you in vour room afterward."
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6d0 HOME INFLUENCE.
Mrs. Hamilton knew the Iiuman heart well. When she went
U Ellen, the paroxysm of natural sorrow had had vent, and her
sympathy, her earnestly expressed conviction that the trial
of beholding error and remorse in one so beloved would not
occur again, could bring comfort. The tears indeed might still
have flowed the faster, perhaps, at the voice of kindness, but
there was healing in them ; and when her aunt left her to go to
Edward, she sent him a fond message that she was better, and
ia a few days would be happy, quit* happy for his sake.
It was late before Mrs. Hamilton quitted her nephew. We
will not repeat all that passed between them, all that that fond
watchful relative so earnestly, so appealingly said. Not much
in actual words of counsel had she ever before addressed to
hiiu, feeling that that duty was better performed by Mr. How-
ard and his uncle. She had simply tried to influence him by
the power of love, of forbearance, of sympathy with his re-
morse, and pity for his errors. Ia the wretchedness, the fearful
anxiety, Ellen's danger and pamful illness had occasioned her-
self individually, she had never spoken, or even let fall a sen-
tence which could reproach him as the cause of all ; and, there-
fore, now that she did give her anxious affection words, they
were so spoken, that her nephew never foi^et them.
"I feel now," he had said, near the conclusion of their inter-
view, " as if nothing could tempt me to err again ; but oh, aunt
Emmeiine, so I thought when I left home before ; and its influ-
ences all left me as if they had never been. It may be so again
and and are there not snch doomed wretches, making all
they love best most miserable ? "
" Not, indeed, if they will take their home influences with
them, my beloved boj". "They deserted you before because, by
the insidious sentiments of a most unhappy man, your religion
was shaken, and you flung aside with scorn and misbelief the
only safety for the young Clod's most Holy Word. The in-
fluences of yonr home are based on that alone, my Edw'ard.
They appear perhaps to the casual observer as only love, in-
dulgence, peace, and the joy springing from innocent and happy
hearts ; but these are mere flowers springingfrom one immortal
root. In God's Word alone ia our safety, there alone our
strength and oiir joy; and that may be yours still, my boy,
though fiiT away from us, and in a little world with interests
and temp'ationa of its own. Take this little Bible ; it has been
my constant companion for eighteen years, and to non't but to
yoTirseJf would I part with it. If you fear your bettej feelings
fiiiling, read it, be guided by it, if at iirst only for the sake of
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HOME ISFLUENCE. 381
those, you love ; I do not fear, but that very soon you will do so
for Us own sake. It bears a came within it which I think will
ever keep it sacred in your care, as it has been in mL^e,"
Edward opened it eageily, "Charles Manvers!" be ex-
claimed ; " My own sailor-uncle, whose memory you have so
taught me to love. It is indeed a spell, dear aunt, and you
ehali never regret a giil so precious. But how came it yours ? "
" He came to rae just before starting for his last trip, entreat''
ing me to exchange Bibles with hiiO, that in our most serious
moments we might think of each other. It was such an un-
usually serious speech for him, that it seemed to thrill me with
a v^ue foreboding, which was oaly too soon realized. I never
saw him again ; and that little book indeed increased in value."
Her voice faltered, for even yet the memory of her brother
was so dear to her that she could never speak of him without
emotion. Edward reiterated his eager assurance that it should
be equally valuablp to liim, adding
"I have often had strange fancies about uncle Charles, aunt,
and longed for the command of a ship, to scoirr the coast of
Algiers, and leam something more about the Leander. Some-
how or other, I never can beheve he was drowned, and yet to
think of him as a slave, is terrible."
" And not likely, my dear boy ; think of the lapse of years.
But painful aa it is, wo must sepafate, Edward ; I must not
detain you from rest and sleep any longer. Only give me one
prombe if ever you are led into temptation and error ^ain,
and it may be for oar strongest resolutions sometimes fail
us write to me without the smallest hesitation, openly, freely ;
tell me all, and if you need aid, ask it^ and I will give it ; and,
if it be possible avert your uncle's displeasure. I have no fear
that, in telhng you this, I am weakening your resolution, hut
only to prevent one fault becoming many by concealment
from dread of anger, and therein the supposed impossibility of
amendment. Remember, my beloved hoy, you have a claim on
me which no error nor fault can remove ; as, under providence,
the preserver of my husband, I can never change the anxious
love I bear you. Tou may indeed make me very miserable,
but I know you will not ; you wiU let me look on your noble
deed with all the love, the admiration, it deserves. Promise
me that, under any difficulty or error, small or great, you will
write to me aa you would have done to your own beloved
mother, and I shall have no fear remaining."
Edwai-d did promise, but his heart was so full he could not
restram himself any longer, and as Mrs. Hamilton folded him
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOMi; INFLUENCE.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE BIRTHDAY GIFT.
Bbightly and placidlyj as tke course of their own beautiful
river, did the days now pass to the inmates of Oabwood. Let^
ters came from Edward so frequently, so happily, that hope
would rest calmly, joyously, even on the thought of him. He
never let an opportunity pass, writing always to Mrs. Hamilton
(which he had scarcely ever done hefore,) and inclosing his
letters to Ellen open in hers. The tone, the frequency, were so
changed from his last, that his family now wondered they had
been so blind before in not perceiving that hia very seeming
liveliness was unnatural and overstrained.
"With Ellen too, Mrs. Hamilton's anxious care was bringing
in fair promise of success the mistaken influences of her child-
hood, and their increased effect from a morbid imagination, pro-
duced from constant suffering, appearing, indeed, about to be
wholly eradicated. Anxious to remove all sad associations
connected with the library, Mrs. Hamilton having detennined
herself to superintend Ellen's studies, passed long mornings in
that ancient room with her, so delightfully, that it became as-
sociated only with, the noble authors whose works, or extracts
from whom, she road and revelled in, and which filled her mind
with such new thoughts, such expansive ideas, such calming
and earnest truths, that she felt becoming to herself a new be-
ing. Lively and thoughtless as Emmeline she could not now
indeed become alike as their dispositions naturally were; but -
Bhe was more quietly, enduringly happy than she had ever re-
membered herself.
There was only one alloy, one sad thought that would intrude,
causing a resolution, which none suspected; for, open as she had
become, she could breathe it to none but Ellis, for she alone
could assist her, though it required many persuasions and many
assurances, that she never could be quite happy, unless it was
accomplished, which could prevail on her to grant it. Ellen
knew, felt mora and more each week, that she could not rest till
she had labored for and obtained, and returned into her auni'j
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME mFLUEHCE. 383
hands the full sum she had so inYoluntarily appropr^ted. The
only means she could adopt demanded such a eeemiag intermin-
able period of self-denial, patience, and perseverance, that at
fii^t as Ellis represented and magnified all connected with it,
she felt as if, indeed, she could not nerve herself for the ta^ik,
much as she desired to perform it; but prayer enabled her to
face the idea, till it lost its most painful aspect, and three months
after Edward's departure she commenced the undertaking, re-
solved that neither lime nor difficulty should deter her from its
accomplishment. What her plan was, and whether it succeed-
ed, we may not here inform our readers. Should we be per-
mitted to resume our History of the Hamilton Family, both
will be revealed.
Greatly to Caroline's delight, the following October was fixed
for them to leave Oakwood, and, after a pleasant tour, to make
the long anticipated visit to London. There would then be
three or four months' quiet for her to have the benefit of mas-
ters, before she was introduced, and Mrs. Hamilton fondly
hoped, that the last year's residence at home, fraught as it had
been with so m.uch of domestic trial, and displaying so maay hope-
ful and admirable traits in Caroline's disposition, would have
lessened the danger of the ordeal of admiration and gayety
which she so dreaded for her child whether it had or not, a
future page wiU disclose.
To Emmeline this arrangement was a source of extreme re-
gret, individually, in which Ellen now quite sympathized. But
Emmeline had never forgotten her mother's gentle hint, that
too gi-eat indulgence of regret or sorrow becomes selfishness,
and she tried very hard to create some anticipation of pleasure,
even ia.London, Ellen would not look to pleasure, but merely
tried to think about and so, when called upon, cheerfully to
resign that which was now so intensely enjoyable her studies
with her aunt and so benefit by them as to give Miss Har-
coui-t no trouble when she was again under her care ; as she
knew she and Emmeline must be, more than they had been
yet, when Caroline's introduction, and their residence in Lon-
don, would take Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton so much from domestiu
pursuits and pleasures, and, even when at home, compel them
to be so frequently engrossed with a large circle of friends, and
all the variety of claims on their attention and time, which a
season in London includes.
It was again the 7th of June, and Ellen's birthday. Accus-
tomed from the time she became an inmate of Oalcwood to
regard the anniversary of her birth in the same serious light a&
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
384 HOME IHFLDEKCE.
Mrs. Hamilton had taught her cousina as a day of quiet reflee
tion, as well as of lliankfiiliiess and joy, as one that, closing and
recommencing another year of their indiyidual Uvea, taught
them that they were becoming more and more responsible
beings it was not much wonder that Ellen, the whole of that
day, should seem somewhat less cheerful than usual. She had
indeed had many sources of thankfulness and joy during the past
year, but a heart and mind like hers could not recall its princi-
pal event without a return of sorrow. Mrs. Hamilton would
not notice her now unusual sadness until the evening, when
perceiving her standing engrossed in thought beside one of the
widely-opened windows, near which Caroline was watering some
lovely flowers oa the terrace, she gently approached her, and,
putting her arm round her, s^d, fondly
" You have thought quite seriously and quit long enough
for to-day, my dear Ellen; I must not have any more such very
silent meditations. That there is something to regret in the
retrospect of the last year, I acknowledge, but you must not
let it poison all the sources of thankfulness which it brings
likewise."
"It was not of my past conduct, I was thinking at this moment,
aunt Emmeline it was "
""What, love ? fU me without reserve."
"What 1 never, never can return in the smallest degree, all
I owe to you," replied Ellea, with a sudden burst of emotion,
most unusual to her controlled and gentle character ; "I never
can do any thing to evince how gratefully, how intensely I feel
all the kindness, the goodness you have shown me from the first
TOoaient you took me to your home an unhappy, neglected,
ailing child, and this year more, more than ever. My own poor
mother left me in my dangerous illness, and what have you not
done to give me back not merely physical, but mental health?
Day and night you watched beside me, forgetting all the care,
the misery, my conduct had caused you, only thinking, only
seeking, to give me baek to health and happiness. Oh, aunt
Emmeline, your very household can evince gratitude and love,
in the performance of their respective duties I can do nothing,
never can. If I only could."
" Do you remember the fable of the lion and the mouse, my
dear Ellen, and Miss Edgeworth's still prettier story on the
same subject?" replied Mrs. Hamilton, more affected tlian she
chose lo betray, though she drew her niece closer to her, and
kissed her foniUy. " I hope I shall never be caught in a net,
nor exposed to such horrors and danger as poor Madame da
HnjtcdbyGoOglc
HOME INFLUENCE. 386
Fltiuiy iu the Fi-ench Revolution ; bnt for ail that, and unlikely
as it seems now, lay dear child, jou may have many an oppoi--
tunity to return all that you so gratefully feel you owe me,
Do uot let any such thought worry you ; but believe me, when
I assire you that affection and confidence are the only return
I requirCj united, as they are in you, with such aa eaniest de-
sire, and such persevering efforts to become all your best friends
can wish you."
She was interrupted by the entrance of Enimeline, with a
small parcel in her hand.
"Mamma, this has just arrived from Exeter for you; with'
an apologizing message from Mr, Bennet, saying, it should have
been here last night, as he promised, but he could not get the
articles from London in time. I am so very curious as Irt what
it possibly can be, that I would bring it to you myself."
"Any other time I would punish your constant curiosity, Em-
meline, by refusing to gratify it. I cannot do so now, however,
for I should punish myself as well. I did want it most parti-
cularly this morning ; but ram glad it was not delayed tUl the
day was quite over. Your uncle and I did not forget your
birthday, my dear Ellen, though it seemed so." And opening the
parcel as she spoke, a very pretty jewel-case appeared, contain-
ing the watch, cross, and all the other trinkets EUen had placed
in Mrs. Langford's hand, and never had had the courage to-
Inquire for, and the few her aunt had kept for her, bnt so
prettily arranged and beautifully burnished, that she would
scarcely have known them again.
" Did you never feel any curiosity as to the fate of your
trinkets, my love, that you have never asked about them ? "
"I knew they were in better hands than my own," replied
Ellen, witli a quivering lip. " I felt I had no further right to
them, after attempting to part with them."
" I know there are some very painful associations connected
with these trinkets, my dear Ellen, and, therefore, I would not
return them to your own care, till I could add to them a birth-
day-gift," and, lifting the upper fray, she took out a gold chain,
and a pair of bracelets of chaste and beautiful worlonanship
" that the sad memories of the one may be forgotten in the
pleasant thoughts of the other. I have only one condition to
make," she added, in an earnest lower tone, as Ellen tried to
Bpeak her thanks, but could only cling to her aunt's neck and
weep. " If ever again you are tempted to dispose of them,
dearest, promise me to bring them to me, for my valuation
first."