The Barbadoes Girl Part 11

I told you that perhaps Mr. Belmont might, _some time_----"

"My dear, _dear_ Ellen, pardon my dulness, and accept my sincerest congratulations. May Heaven bless you, and him you prefer, and make you both as happy as you deserve to be!"

"So, so!" cried Mr. Harewood; "if we had never come up stairs, this mighty secret, which, for my part, I told an hour ago down stairs, would never have been revealed. But pray, Matilda, who did you conclude was the marrying person at our house, if it were not Ellen?"

"You have sons, sir," tremulously articulated Matilda, not choosing to trust her tongue with a name that dwelt ever on her heart.

"Oh, tut, tut, there is no marrying for my boys. Charles is disposed of, and if Edmund can take a wife at thirty, he will be better off than many in his profession; he is now but a little past five-and-twenty, you know."

"He danced with a very beautiful woman last night," said Matilda, eagerly, and with recovered vivacity.

"So I understand; she is a bride, and his first fee was given for a consultation on her marriage-settlements."

Matilda breathed; the l.u.s.tre of her eye, the glow on her cheek, could not be mistaken by the fond parent, who now clearly understood the cause of Matilda's frequent despondency, and the refusals she had given to all offers of marriage.

"I wish," said Mrs. Hanson, "that you and Mrs. Harewood and our young friends would dine with me: I am really impatient to be introduced to Mr.

Belmont."

"As you please, madam; the wanderer must certainly see you once more, and I do not know that he can choose a better day."

Ellen proposed writing a note to her mother, and left the room with Mrs.

Hanson, when Mr. Harewood, perceiving that Matilda was again in confusion, said, by way of diverting her attention--"You have seen Mr. Belmont, Miss Hanson?"

"Yes, I have; and _he_ has seen _me_, to my sorrow. You remind me of a folly I have by no means forgiven in myself. I still want the eye of a tutor, you see."

"Charles has, however, been your advocate so effectually, that I believe not one of the family will ever remember it again."

"Not _one_!" said Matilda, blus.h.i.+ng deeply.

"Not _one_! Charles is a warm advocate."

"He is a dear good boy, and always was; I love him very much, and while I rejoice in his good fortune, I shall be sorry to part with him."

Matilda's frankness a.s.sured Mr. Harewood that her heart was free where he had supposed it bound; he was anxious to read her farther; he saw that she even sought investigation from him, in whom she confided as a friend and father; but he again shrunk from the idea of undue influence, and while he walked about irresolute, time pa.s.sed, and Edmund and his mother entered the drawing-room, and Matilda was called to receive them.

An air of coldness and restraint pervaded the manners of both Edmund and Matilda, to divert which, Mrs. Hanson began to relate the error into which her daughter had fallen, from the _mauvaise honte_ of Ellen, as she supposed, and this led them to speak of the ball, and the characters of the persons present. Of course, poor Matilda was again tormented by hearing that Sir Theodore was universally believed to be her affianced lover, and she expressed the most unqualified vexation at the report, declaring that she would not go once into public again for seven years, rather than encourage the presumption of the man, or the idle gossip of his admirers.

As she spoke, Edmund was observed to gaze upon her with delight, and exult in the declaration, as if it were necessary for his happiness; but when she ceased to speak, he relapsed into melancholy.

"The only way to silence such reports effectually," said Mrs. Hanson, with a tender smile, "will be to place yourself under the protection of some worthy man, whose character you can indeed approve. I have ever objected to your marrying under age, but I have no objection at all to your gaining liberty, and relinquis.h.i.+ng it at the same time. I hope, therefore, in another year, to see you follow the example of Ellen, provided you can choose as well as she has done."

"It is the only thing in which I cannot obey you, my dear mother," replied Matilda.

Hurt with the extreme paleness which overspread the countenance of their inestimable son, Mr. and Mrs. Harewood withdrew to the window; and Ellen, whose heart wanted a pretext for watching the arrival of Belmont, joined them; when Mrs. Hanson, drawing closer to Edmund, said--"I fear you will not soon join these marrying people, my young friend?"

"I shall never marry, madam," answered he abruptly.

"_Never!_ you are too positive, sir; men at your age change their minds frequently."

"Matilda knows that I am not subject to change; she may accuse me of many errors, but not of that."

"I can accuse _you_ of _nothing_," said Matilda; "I wish you could say the same of me."

"Matilda! Miss Hanson! I accuse you! what right have I to accuse you?"

"Every right. I behaved ill--you condemned me--I saw you did; and--you punished me. I felt your punishment last night--to-day you forgive me; and your forgiveness is--why should I not own it? is dear to me."

"Oh, Matilda, do not distract me by this generosity! you will throw me off my guard--you will induce me to make a declaration that may part us for ever."

Edmund looked at Mrs. Hanson; her brow was open, pleasure swam in her eye, and she held her hand towards him as she said--"My dear Edmund, allow me to ask what you mean by that look of mistrust to me? what right have you to suppose that I am less generous than yourself, or that I desire to see my child ungrateful to her young preceptor, or insensible of his merits?"

"Madam! Matilda! what does all this mean? is it possible that I can have obtained such an advocate as Mrs. Hanson?"

"Edmund, can you really want an advocate with poor erring Matilda? or can you for a moment accuse her of a fault, which never yet came amongst the numerous catalogue of her early sins?"

Mrs. Hanson joined the group at the window, and in a few moments they all descended together, to welcome Charles and Belmont, who soon understood the happy footing on which those so dear to them were placed; and Charles enjoyed a hearty laugh at the jealousy he had excited, though he could not regret a circ.u.mstance which had in any measure led to a conclusion so desirable.

When poor Zebby, whose sable forehead was now shaded by gray locks, was told all that had happened, she exclaimed with her usual enthusiasm,--"All right--all happy--Missy have goodee friend, goodee husban--him alway mild and kind; Missy very goodee too--some time little warm, but never, _never_ when she lookee at ma.s.sa; him melt her heart, guide her steps, both go hand in hand to heaven."

The negro's conception of this union has every prospect of being verified, and proves that the simplest and most uninformed of human beings may yet enjoy the light of reason, and a just perception of the characters of those around them.

When Charles had bade adieu to his family, the lovers of Matilda and Ellen were each urgent for their respective marriages: but the awfulness of that sacred engagement into which they were about to enter, the consciousness they entertained of the goodness of their parents, and the happiness of the state they were quitting, held the young ladies for some time in a state of apparent suspense, and almost incert.i.tude. This was neither the effect of want of confidence in the men they loved, nor of that spirit of coquetry by which the vain and frivolous part of the s.e.x seek to prolong what they consider the day of their power. Far different ideas pervaded their minds and influenced their conduct; for not only the tenderness of their affection for their parents, but the sense of their responsibility as Christian wives, called to new duties and new avocations, appointed to guide their inferiors, and submit to their future husbands, pressed upon their hearts; and when at length the solemn ceremony took place, it was to each party rather a day of serious thoughtfulness and fearful anxiety, than one of exultation and exhibition.

In a short time this solicitude vanished, and a sense of happiness, confidence, and unbounded affection spread over their minds the most delightful serenity, and rendered every act of duty an act of pleasure.

Matilda looked to Edmund as the guardian of her conduct, and he found in her the reward of his virtues, the companion whose vivacity enlivened the fatigue of study, and whose benevolence extended the circle of his enjoyments; and although apparently of very different tempers, the affection they felt for each other, and the well-regulated minds they both possessed, rendered them proverbially good and happy.

After residing a few years abroad, and increasing his knowledge and reputation, Charles returned, and is now become the husband of Miss Weston, who is an amiable and virtuous young woman, well calculated to render him happy. The mother of this young lady still resides with Mrs. Hanson, to whom her society is particularly valuable, since the removal of Matilda, whose eldest child is the frequent inmate of her house.

Happy in themselves, and a blessing to the circle around them, Mr. and Mrs.

Belmont reside during the greatest part of the year upon the family estate of Mr. Belmont in Staffords.h.i.+re. Ellen, as a country gentlewoman, extends a quiet but beneficial influence through an extensive neighbourhood, and is universally beloved and respected.

We will now take leave of the Barbadoes Girl and her friends, with the sincere wish that all who read her story may, like her, endeavour to correct in themselves those irregularities of temper, and p.r.o.neness to pride and vanity, which, more or less, are the growth of every human heart, and which can never rise and flourish there, but to the destruction of every virtue and every comfort; and we earnestly desire them to hold in mind, that, in order to purify the heart from these unhallowed guests, a deep sense of religion must be the motive, and a strict principle of self-control the agent, by which so desirable an end can alone be obtained.

This little story, written rather to instruct than amuse, can only close with consistency, by briefly recapitulating the lesson it has, perhaps feebly, but sincerely, endeavoured to inculcate, viz., the necessity of watchfulness over our hearts--the excellence and advantage of being open and ingenuous--the efficacy of repentance towards G.o.d, and humility even towards man--and the peculiar necessity of guarding the heart, as with a tenfold barrier, to those who are blest with riches and prosperity.