CHAPTER XVIII. Love is a thing to which we soon consent, As soon refuse,-but sooner far repent. Thracian Wonder. In those times, Of all the treasures of my hopes and love You were the exchequer. They were stored in you. English Traveller. BEFORE the interview with my father, the particulars of which have been already narrated, my chief source of anxiety had arisen from the dread of opposition on his part to my own resolute determination to become a soldier. That cause of apprehension had been now removed, and my mind was tranquillized by the knowledge, that in the attainment of this, the chief object of my wishes, I should have no further obstructions to overcome. My father, I was aware, had taken the necessary steps to procure me a commission, and I calmly waited the arrival of the moment, when I should be called from my retirement, to start forward in the high career, for which I imagined myself to be destined. Time, too, which softens the human heart, and mitigates its fiercest passions, had not failed to exercise its salutary influence on mine. The bitterness of feeling, which the harsh and unkind conduct of my father had at first excited, gradually subsided. His health was bad; the objects dearest to him had been snatched away; he was a man of dilapidated fortunes and blighted hopes; and to these causes I was disposed to attribute much of that unfeeling moroseness by which his character was marked. His love I had never possessed, and I had long known it; of his strong aversion I now knew myself to be the object. Yet my heart was not formed long to be the depository of unkind feelings towards an only parent. There, indeed, my resentments had been stored; there I imagined them to be safely treasured; but when I endeavoured to recall them, they were gone. The perusal of my mother's letter, too, again did much. It was ever carried in my bosom, and when I looked on it, I felt a relenting of the spirit, and the injustice of my father was forgiven. In the establishment at Thornhill, the death of my mother had created a void not easily to be supplied. She had in fact been, as it were, the main spring of the machine, by which each separate part was indirectly impelled and regulated. The superintendence of all domestick arrangements, and the education of my sisters, had been her peculiar provinces, and in these her loss was irreparable. Jane was now sixteen, and, under the tuition of her mother, had almost grown up into an elegant and accomplished woman. In point of acquirement, she was perfectly qualified to conduct the education of her younger sister; but it was perhaps scarcely reasonable to expect, in a girl of her age, the steadiness and energy of character necessary for such a task. To maintain a constant control over little Lucy, indeed, was no easy matter. Never was there a creature of gayer and more buoyant spirit. She was as sportive as the fawn, No shadow lingered in her path, and she went on, rejoicing in the wild revelry of her own innocent and happy heart. Jane's health, too, was délicate; she was a creature too fragile to bear a heavy burden, and the new duties which were about to devolve on her, as the future mistress of the establishment at Thornhill, would, to one so young and inexperienced, be of themselves sufficient, without the addition of those necessarily allied to the education of her sister. It was, however, not without mixed feelings of surprise and regret on our part, that my father, after perusing a letter one morning at the breakfast-table, informed us that we might expect in a few days the arrival of a lady, who was to form a permanent addition to our domestick circle. She was, he said, a person of good family, amiable and accomplished, intended to fill the double role of companion to Jane, and governess to little Lucy. The anticipation of such an addition to our family party, was at first by no means pleasant. But, on more mature consideration, I felt inclined to admit the propriety of the step taken by my father. Jane's spirits were variable, and required occasionly a degree of support, which neither my father nor Lucy, though from different causes, were capable of affording. In the society of a person of her own sex, this alone could be found; and I could not, on reflection, disapprove of an arrangement, which, if my father's statement might be believed, provided her with a companion in every respect eligible: I remember one day, about the time when my sisters were anxiously expecting the arrival of this new inmate, with mingled feelings of dread and curiosity, I had just returned from a ride, and was dismounting from my horse, when a post-chaise drove up to the door. The vehicle seemed loaded externally with an unusual quantity of luggage, for the commodious conveyance of which it seemed ill calculated. An enormous.black leather trunk was fastened to the back part of the carriage by a voluminous complexity of rope, the summit was crowned by a gigantick band-box, and in front of the vehicle, the driver, instead of a dickey, was seated on a trunk, which seemed from its dimensions twin brother to that behind. To catch a glimpse of the person who was the owner of so much worldly possession, was impossible, for nothing in the inside of the carriage was discernible but a confused mass of baskets, bonnet-boxes, and other appurtenances of a female traveller. The door of this uncomfortable receptacle, however, at length opened, and, after a world of miscellaneous articles had been removed by the united activity of the servants and the driver, to my infinite astonishment, I beheld descend from the vehicle-Miss Cumberbatch. This circumstance was so unexpected, that I at first imagined she was merely the bearer of some message from Lady Amersham; but a second glance at the confused multitude of packages which half filled the hall, most of which were addressed, in large characters, to "Miss Cumberbatch, Thornhill Park," convinced me she was the true Amphytrion, the real and genuine governess, of whose arrival we were in expectation. I approached her, therefore, and claiming the privilege of former acquaintance, begged to be allowed the pleasure of conducting her to my sisters' apartment, and introducing her to them. My offer was, of course, politety accepted, and the duties it imposed on me duly discharged. The eyes both of Jane and Lucy were naturally directed with some anxiety towards a person on whose character and qualities so much of their future comfort was likely to depend. The latter, I observed, eyed her askance. To her she came in the character of a governess, and the à priori ideas she had formed of the duties attached to that office, seemed by no means to prepossess her in favour of the person by whom it was to be filled. But the scrutiny of deeper physiognomists than either Jane or Lucy might have been baffled by the countenance of Miss Cumberbatch. It seemed the face of one long a stranger to strong emotion of any kind; whose passions, whatever they had been, were become torpid through continued inaction. But whether this unruffled placidity was the gift of art or nature, whether it was transient or unchangeable, it might have puzzled Lavater himself to determine. Her deportment, however, was in all respects marked by strict propriety; her manners, if not prepossessing, were at least far from repulsive; and even the prejudices of little Lucy gradually gave way, when she found her governess was not quite so disagreeable as she had expected. In fact, there was nothing in her external appearance to provoke either ridicule or dislike. Jane, too, was pleased with her new companion, and even the half aversion with which she had inspired me at Staunton Court, gave place to more kindly feelings. In short, after the arrival of Miss Cumberbatch, every thing went on at Thornhill, if pos sible, more smoothly than before. It may be as well, once for all, to inform the reader how Miss Cumberbatch came to make her appearance so unexpectedly in the circumstances already described. The truth was, my father had written to Lady Amersham, requesting her Ladyship's assistance in the weighty matter of procuring a person requisitely gifted for the situation. Lady Amersham, 1 |