Modern Flirtations: A Novel

by Catherine Sinclair

  CHAPTER XVII.

  From that memorable Sunday when Marion first renewed her friendshipand intimacy with Clara, her fair young countenance brightened intoits sunniest smiles, while day after day she carried her work to thelittle "cottage of contentment," where Clara generally received her inwhat she called her summer drawing-room, a small bowling-green in thegarden, bright and shining as an emerald, beneath a grove ofoverhanging lilacs and laburnums. There Mr. Granville frequentlybrought out books, which he read aloud and discussed, developing thelofty aspirations of a mind fitted to be high among the highest inlearning and intellect, while his thoughts were like a well-tunedinstrument, from which every chord sounded to the praise of theirDivine maker, and his conversation was, as Pascal said of the HolyScriptures, even more addressed to the heart than to the head.

  When reading aloud, Mr. Granville evinced so much interest, with soquick a consciousness of the author's meaning, and so true a sympathyin his sentiments, that it seemed as if he must himself have composedevery line; and when he occasionally lent Marion any volume that sheparticularly liked, she found his favorite passages marked, and themargin enriched by so many interesting notes, that she followed withdelight the course of his mind, while at the same time storing her ownmemory with high thoughts and refined sentiments.

  There was a degree of soul and spirit in the countenance of Mr.Granville, which marked him as no ordinary man, and an indefinitecharm in his grave and courteous manner, suited to his holyprofession, and displaying the calmness and polish of one accustomedto good society. He had an energy of expression irresistiblyinfluential, while illustrating with an eloquence peculiarly his own,all the highest and holiest principles which can occupy the humanheart. His master mind conversed of Milton, Spenser, Cowper,Montgomery, and of all the pious authors dear to every lover of natureand of highly-wrought genius and devotion, while the most phlegmaticmust have been roused, and the most passionate become subdued, by theindisputable dominion of a great mind, for his genius appeared to lookupon the trifles of existence with the passing glance of an eagle inits lofty ascent.

  Marion and Clara were often entertained by Mr. Granville when herelated characteristic anecdotes of pious and literary men with whomhe had associated, enlivened by original remarks, shewing strongpowers of observation, and displaying the best side of human life; yethis wit and humor were evidently chastened and subdued by a thoughtfulestimate of existence, and by a continual consciousness of his highvocation, while Marion scarcely knew whether to be most astonished atthe versatility of his talents, or at the extent of his information.No subject seemed strange to him, no country unknown, no scienceunstudied, no book unread,--while with ready memory and practisedjudgment he spoke as he thought, betraying no reserve or affectation:and religion still, like a golden thread, was to be traced runningthrough his whole conversation.

  Marion's was a heart which required something in those she loved toreverence and look up to; but here she had found that in its fullestmeasure, and under the happiest auspices, among friends with whom shehad never spent an hour without feeling the happier and the better forit. Now for the first time she discovered that there is an aristocracyof conversation, which avoids everything low or mean in its origin,while a new world of ideas opened upon her, in listening to sentimentsof high honor, and to feelings of universal benevolence. The genius ofAgnes for conversation lay only in the line of scandal, and she was inthe habit of sweeping away characters like cobwebs, at a singlestroke, by remarks full of flippancy, and often using her talents as amimic, while with tricks almost amounting to buffoonery, she renderedthe best and most estimable of her friends, though above the reach ofcensure, at all events ridiculous. Ill-nature was to her conversationwhat fuel is to the flame; and Agnes piqued herself on her penetrationin discovering the motive of others for all they did, while invariablytracing it to something mean or contemptible; but with Richard andClara an equal ingenuity was shewn in tracing it to good; and while inthe one house every individual discussed was brought down to the samelevel of absurdity or selfishness, it was cheering and gratifying to aheart like Marion's, that at Mr. Granville's, the characters andfeelings of every one living were respected and elevated.

  At St. John's Lodge, when Marion heard Sir Patrick and Agnes discusstheir acquaintances, she could not but wonder sometimes where all goodor commendable people had hid themselves, as it seemed as if they musthave fled from the face of man, or have closed their hearts in disgustfrom all association with the mean and paltry world of fashion andfrivolity; but now at last she had discovered some whom malice itselfcould scarcely criticise; and in thus associating intimately with the"excellent of the earth," she felt an increasing ambition to resemblethem.

  None were more fitted than Clara and Richard to appreciate thesingle-hearted excellence of Marion's disposition, her utterdisregardlessness of self, her anxious desire to please, her gayspirits, brilliant without effort, her heart generous without guile,and her thoughts fresh and unsophisticated as the gentle summer breezefrom the mountains. No one could look at Marion, and not wish to beher friend.

  There was a tone of frank and entire confidence in her manner, whichinstantly gained that of others in return--a softened sensibility inher expression--a deep fascination in her smile--and in her voice atone of joyous hilarity, indicative of her sunny mind, though, like hercountenance, it was capable of intense expression, and deepenedsometimes, now, into a tone of reflection and feeling beyond her years,while before long it appeared evident, in Clara's opinion, that she hadbecome all and everything in this world to Richard, and Richard toher--that her amiable, single-hearted _naivete_ of disposition had atonce carried all the outworks of Mr. Granville's affection, and thatalready she was established not only in his friendship, but insomething more.

  Unsuspicious of Mr. Granville's increasing preference, Marion smiledand talked in his society with unembarrassed vivacity, or in theirgraver moods replied to his remarks as she might have done to those ofany aged clergyman. The perfect harmony of their tastes, and thesympathy of their feelings, produced that gradual communion of thoughtwhich is the essence of friendship, while heart answered to heart, asif each had a telegraph instantaneously to reveal all that passedwithin. The highest qualities of Mr. Granville's mind, as well as thedeepest feelings of his nature, were brought into visible exercise,while he who had hitherto lived only for others, now felt that therewas not a link in the chain of human sympathies and affections whichhad not become sacred and dear to himself. There was even somethingthat might be considered romantic in his feelings--a poetry of theheart, which led him to believe that a refined and sanctified love,such as men read and write of, but seldom feel, might yet exist on theearth--such love as could survive the lapse of time, the witheringinfluence of prosperity, the chilling blast of adversity, and thegrowing infirmities of age, till at length, nourished and perfected byevery vicissitude of sunshine and storm, it should be transplanted inrenewed holiness and beauty to another and a better world.

  Marion's character was rapidly matured and developed by herintercourse with Mr. Granville, who raised in her ardent mind the mostenthusiastic interest; and while with timid pleasure, but increasingconfidence, she joined in the conversation, her voice dwelt on his earlong after she ceased to speak, her looks were imprinted on his memoryin his most solitary hours, and to Marion a new degree of interest andof happiness had suddenly become known, when with a vivid blush, and abeaming smile of pleased emotion, day after day, she thought over allthat had passed, though ignorant yet of the extent to which her heartand feelings were already engaged. How much of life's most interestingemotions now passed through her mind during a few weeks, the heart ofMarion alone could testify; while the attachment of Mr. Granville wasconcealed from common observation, to be only the more ardentlytestified towards herself; and their happiness being the result of noprecipitate impulse, they became attracted together by that love ofexcellence, which is the only permanent source of mutual attachment.

  Marion's mi
nd had always a propensity to admire, and whether in natureor in art, she found it more congenial to her feelings ever to seekfor beauties rather than defects, therefore now she was delighted toassociate with one who not only appreciated everything as she did, butpointed out unexpected excellencies in all the objects of animatednature, in all the books she read, and even in many of the companionswith whom she associated. With Richard and Clara she first visited theabodes of poverty; and in attending to the sufferings and sorrows ofothers, she saw that Miss Granville found the best relief from adepression of spirits, under which Marion could not but see withsurprise and regret, that her friend had recently suffered. Clara'spiety was testified in deeds much more than in words, for good actionsshe evidently considered as the necessary embellishments of that holyfaith which alone can render any mortal acceptable in the eyes of hisDivine Maker, while salvation by the cross of Christ is the pivot onwhich all depends--the crowning stone to the arch, giving stabilityand grace to the whole fabric of Christian hope.

  Miss Granville gave not only her time and money, but her feelings andsympathies to the poor; while it evidently cheered her very heart whenshe could do a kind action; and though ever ready, heartily andgratefully, to acknowledge the Divine goodness to herself, whether injoy or in sorrow, yet nothing appeared so keenly to stir up hergratitude as any opportunity allowed her of doing a benevolent or afriendly action, as she considered that the knowledge of religion,without active exertion, testifying our love to God by our love to ourfellow-creatures, was worse than useless. "The most depraved ofsinners," as Mr. Granville said, "could repeat the creed, but aChristian only can believe and follow it like Clara."

  Graceful and useful in all she does, Blessing and blest wher'er she goes.

  Marion, on returning one day over the hills and through the fields,with Mr. Granville and Clara, from a tour of interesting visits to theabodes of chilling poverty and agonised wretchedness, such as she hadnever even imagined, could not but contrast the smiling aspect ofnature in all the sunny joy and verdure of spring, with the mournfullot of man as she had so recently witnessed it.

  "How strange," said she, "to take a bird's-eye view, as we do thisevening, of that great city, all glittering in sunshine, and everywindow illuminated with a flood of light, as if nothing but festivityand joy were there, and yet to know what a world of anxiety, and fear,and pain, and sorrow, are all fermenting within its walls! Silent asthe whole scene appears, yet, for every window we can look upon, thereis probably some living being full of schemes, hopes, and feveredwishes, dissatisfied with his own lot, and envying that of another!What an awful world this is to be born into, when, amidst its manypleasures and its many beauties, we yet consider all its solemnresponsibilities and fearful trials!"

  "Yes," replied Mr. Granville, in that voice, the deep melody of whichwas like no other voice, "we are placed here in a great theatre; andwhile, as interested spectators, we admire the decorations, let usremember, in respect to the actors, that nothing is either ours ortheirs, but each has his part to perform, for which he is responsible,and all shall then be swept away to take an abiding place, accordingas we are fitted for it, in that real and unchangeable scene for whichhere we are only rehearsing our parts. If actors on the stage were tobecome actually and permanently for life, the great characters theyrepresent, provided only they supported the part well for a night, thestake would be nothing in proportion to what a Christian shall gain ifgrace be given him to fulfill his allotted part in this short andtransitory life, which is but a final rehearsal for eternity."

  "Very true," said Clara; "this world is a mere preparatory school,where, like wayward children, we become surprised and irritated at theslightest correction, being most unwilling to acknowledge that it iseither required or deserved."

  "Yet," added Mr. Granville, "nothing brings out the best qualities ofman like suffering. It is a hard rub given to gold, which becomes onlythe brighter; and I often think how much interest and dignity isbestowed on every event of our short lives, by thinking that we aretrained and disciplined as a part of a mighty plan which has beengoing systematically on from the beginning of time, and must becontinued to the very end."

  "As you observed yesterday," replied Clara, "we are woven into the webof human life which is passing on daily into eternity, carrying usalong on its surface with irresistible speed. We have no choiceallowed either in coming into the world, or in going out of it; butthe existence thus given to us leads on to an eternity of joy or ofinsufferable misery, according to the state of preparation in which weare found at last. It often occurs to me, as a solemn reflection, thatthe two principles of good and evil are, as long as we live, tocontinue at war in our minds, but that, like fire and water, one ofthese will finally extinguish the other, and that, when deathovertakes us, we shall then become either entirely holy or entirelyreprobate."

  "It is a solemn truth," said Mr. Granville, with his usual tranquildignity of manner. "The tide of this world's history rolls on, whilegeneration after generation, like the successive billows on a troubledocean, rises and swells into momentary importance, till it be dashedin pieces and followed by another; but one great Omnipotent powerdirects the whole, and watches over each insignificant atom as it ishurried along. He, by whom the very hairs of our head are numbered,ordains for our good and for His glory, all events and circumstances,whether great or small; and if our wills are implicitly conformed toHis, we shall see the trifles of this life through a blaze ofreligious light, which will display us their importance as a means ofattaining good, but their insignificance if pursued as an end."

  "Even now," observed Clara, "the very occupations and habits essentialto a Christian life, in themselves confer a degree of happiness whichthe world cannot give, and does not know--a faint but pleasing emblemof what is promised in a better state."

  "It appears to me," said Mr. Granville, "that those who live for mereamusement, are no wiser than if they embarked for a voyage round theworld, in a little pleasure-boat, dancing lightly on the billows, withits white and flowing sails glittering in the sunbeams, rather than ina strong and sturdy vessel, cutting its dignified way with deep,steady and undeviating course, in gladness and in safety, throughtempest or calm, whether the breeze be adverse or favorable. Life isone long struggle, where the Christian must learn to hate much that henaturally loves, and to love much that he naturally hates, continuallysteering his course against nature, to advance in grace."

  "I have heard it said," observed Marion, "that Paris is the place, ofall others, where men can most easily do without happiness, because ifany one can entirely forget himself in mere pleasure, it is there."

  "How often have I pitied those who squandered their years abroad on anaimless, amusement-seeking life," said Clara. "What a weight of _ennui_they must endure! What a sense of utter worthlessness they must feel! Afever of delirious pleasure is probably the best they occasionallyenjoy! I have sometimes been astonished lately, when in confidentialconversation with the gayest, and apparently the happiest of mycompanions, to find that they were actually laboring under the deepestdepression of spirits."

  "You need never be surprised by such discoveries, for I meet with themcontinually in my clerical visitations," replied Mr. Granville. "Thebright sun above our heads was not created to look down on scenes ofmerely selfish enjoyment. It cannot be; and if a thermometer couldvisibly display the relative degree of cheerfulness enjoyed throughlife by the slave of amusement, who consults only the impulse of hisown passions, or the servant of God who obeys the dictate of reasonand revelation, how astonished most men would be at the measurelessdisparity of actual felicity. The one wrapped up in selfishness, yetanxious to escape amidst a wild uproar of amusement, from his ownthoughts; the other retiring often, voluntarily, to the companionshipof his reflections, while his heart expands to embrace the trueinterests of all mankind; the one rich in everything but realhappiness; the other poor, perhaps, in respect to wealth, but yetpossessing great riches."

  "I am more and more co
nvinced every day," said Clara, "that no livingcreature has a sufficient portion of happiness for himself, unless heshares that of others, while imparting his own; and that no kind oftraffic brings so large a return to all parties, as that of giving andreceiving the sympathy and good offices of Christian kindness. It istwice, or rather thrice blessed!"

  "I often think," said Marion, "if we could step into the chamber ofany person's mind, and look around us there, how astonishing it wouldbe to survey even that of our most intimate friend! Many would appearlarge and spacious, bright, well furnished, and in good order; whileothers that make a tolerable appearance in society, because they needonly show a few samples in the window, would turn out to be filledwith rubbish, narrow, gloomy, and disordered."

  "Some minds," replied Mr. Granville, "resemble a show-house laid outfor display, where strangers are brought to envy, admire, and exclaim;but home-feelings are the real ornaments of life, which I covet formyself, and for those who are dearer to me than myself."

  "It would be curious," observed Clara, smiling, "if every human beingmight choose the sort of happiness which, in a future life, he wishesto enjoy! There would be a strange diversity of inclination! I supposea foxhunter, who now finds his best enjoyment in riding six hoursa-day, would then bespeak a horse which was never, in a long course ofages, to tire, accompanied by a fox ready to be killed every threehours. A gourmand would ask for a perpetual dinner, and a perpetualappetite; and Captain De Crespigny would wish for a continualsuccession of young ladies, all living on his attentions, and dying ofbroken hearts when he disappointed them."

  "Only ask yourself in respect to any earthly pleasure, if you wouldwish it to be continued for ever, and that will convince you more thananything, Clara, that this world is not our home," said Mr. Granville."There is never a moment of our lives in which we could hear with anysatisfaction that what we then enjoyed was to continue throughouteternity. No! there is a mighty vacuum in our souls, which can only befilled by that which 'eye hath not seen, nor ear heard,' and which ithath not entered into the heart of man yet to conceive."

  There is a free-masonry,--a sort of electrical connection betweenthose who suffer and those who sympathise. It was evident to Marionthat, beneath the look of calm, deep, and chastened composure, whichmight be traced in the large lustrous eyes of Clara Granville, therewas the heavy aspect of one who had suffered, as well as thought much.The high arched forehead, in which the meanderings of the smallestblue vein was visible, and the ethereal transparency of her alabastercheek, gave an almost poetical, but very melancholy expression to hercountenance, and there was a subdued tenderness in her voice andmanner, most touching to the heart.

  She seemed like a lily blighted in the storm, and often did Marionwonder what that sorrow could be, which shunned all notice, and seemedto bury itself beneath a multitude of thoughts and occupations for thegood of others.

  Once, and only once, Marion observed an alteration in the settledcomposure of Clara's manner, the occasion of which caused herconsiderable surprise. Hitherto, when she inadvertently mentioned SirPatrick, the Granvilles insensibly changed the subject almostimmediately, but without the slightest appearance of dislike orresentment, while Marion could not but silently blame her ownforgetfulness of her brother's conduct to Mr. Granville, which shethought might well render his name unacceptable in their familycircle. One day, however, her eyes were accidentally fixed on Clara,when she mentioned that Sir Patrick had escorted her to the chapeldoor on the previous Sunday, and seemed more than half inclined toenter, but had suddenly burst away in a most unaccountable paroxysm,and hurried out of sight.

  A deep and sudden blush overspread the pale cheek of Miss Granville,who hastily looked up, and meeting Marion's eyes, the color rushed intorrents over her face, arms, and neck, and her long eye-lashes becameheavy with tears, while her emotion growing evidently uncontrollable,she threw down her work, and glided out of the room.

  "Clara dislikes him for his rapacious conduct to Mr. Granville. Why canI never learn to avoid Patrick's unlucky name," thought Marion. "Itcomes in _a propos_ to everything or to nothing. I am unaccustomed tothink before I speak, but this will make me remember to forget him infuture. I could not have believed that Clara would feel that affair sovery acutely."

  Marion's thoughts now reverted with some anxiety to her brother andsister. They were either ignorant of her renewed intimacy with theGranvilles, or indifferent to it, but which might turn out to be thecase, however important to her own happiness, she scarcely dared toinvestigate, and day after day passed on finding her almostdomesticated with her newly-restored friend, and scarcely missedapparently by Agnes. Marion was truth itself, and would have abhorredany clandestine engagements, but after having mentioned the first fewtimes that she was going to call on Clara, the intimation beingreceived by her brother and sister in solemn silence, she thought itunnecessary to make a repetition of the announcement; yet, as herfeelings became more deeply and engrossingly interested, her anxietybecame the greater to know what Sir Patrick might say or think on theoccasion; and to Marion's experience it became true as to that of thepoet,

  "Love's first step is on a rose; the second finds a thorn."