CHAPTER XLII.
At Florence, Clara Granville lingered and recovered, and lingeredagain, sleeping little, eating nothing, and patiently trying everyremedy, though she herself was without hope of recovery, till atlength, decorated in all the radiant coloring and bright beauty ofconsumption, she sank slowly but surely, evidently hastening to thegrave, though still Mr. Granville, with the tenacity of affection,continued to hope, and still he told himself that she might, perhaps,yet be spared. Day after day he sat beside her couch, reading,conversing, and praying with her, while his brotherly attachment seemedto grow only the more engrossing and considerate the longer she neededhis care; but it became evident to all around, that his cares and hopeson her account were drawing to a close, and that his sorrow must soonbe without hope in a present world, though full of hope in a world tocome.
Letters now reached Mr. Granville, announcing that his long-pendinglaw-suit had been at length finally decided in his favor, giving him anincome more than equal to his utmost desires; but letters far moredeeply interesting to his feelings still were missing. Often andanxiously had he watched for a single line from Marion, yet so well hadSir Patrick arranged the measures which, as her guardian, he persuadedhimself it might be allowable to take, in order to intercept hercorrespondence, that not a single letter ever escaped the vigilance ofhis emissaries; and Mr. Granville, though he still cherished, as hisbest earthly treasure, the belief of Marion's attachment, felt sopainfully perplexed respecting her, and so grieved for Clara, that thealmost unexpected change in his circumstances appeared scarcely worth athought, while a dense curtain of sorrow seemed gathered around hisspirits.
If the vital spark of his own existence had been about to expire,Richard could scarcely have felt more deeply than now, beside the dyingbed of his young and lovely sister, who took his hand in her own oneday, while a fixed expression of tenderness and grief appeared in herspeaking eyes, and there was a melting softness in her voice, when shesaid:
"My only reluctance to die, is, dear Richard, because I must leave you!This is sorrow; but our sorrow shall hereafter be turned into joy. Whenpatience has had her perfect work, you, like myself, have a sure andcertain hope of a better world, and, unlike me, you have a hope alsofor this life, which contains the best blessing left to man upon earth.Yes, Richard, you will soon have a loved and trusted companion, suitedin every respect to yourself; and with her, I trust, you may enjoy along course of usefulness and of joy, after I am no more."
Mr. Granville kissed his sister's forehead with deep and solemnaffection, while his cheek became pale and his lip quivered; but hisheart was too full to reply, and Clara proceeded:
"We have saved ourselves much unnecessary anxiety by placing a firm andwell-founded confidence in dear Marion. Let that remain unshaken,Richard, till you meet," said Clara, fixing her large, mournful eyes onhim; and slowly closing them as she faintly added, "Tell Marion I diedwithout a doubt of her constancy and truth. And now, there is but onewish remaining to me in life, Richard--only one----"
Clara hesitated, the hectic color deepened on her transparent cheek,her lip trembled, and she became silent, while Richard took her hand inhis own, and listened with affectionate anxiety for what was to follow;but it came not. With a look of desolate grief Clara turned away herhead and was silent, while Mr. Granville, using every term ofaffectionate endearment, entreated her not to let him suppose there wasa wish of her heart unspoken, or a desire which he could grantunfulfilled. After a short struggle, during which he was alarmed by thegreatness of her emotion, she seemed at length to have entirelyconquered her feelings, and said in a perfectly calm, unimpassionedvoice--
"A letter was conveyed to me last night--I know not how it came--fromSir Patrick. He has been some time in Florence; he sends every morningto inquire for me! I am told he even watches daily till the doctorscome out, and asks how I am!"
"True, dear Clara, and I feel for him deeply."
"Richard!" added she, raising herself up with sudden energy, andclasping his arm, while her large, bright eyes became fixed on his, "Iwish to see Sir Patrick once again! to have a last conversation withhim on this side of the eternal world. There is a sacred power in thewords of a dying friend, and I would summon the whole faculties of mybeing, to bid him a last and solemn farewell. He has always listened tome. If I have any influence, let me use it now. Think what a blessedconsciousness I yet might carry to the grave, if our unhappy attachmentwere no longer a source of misery to both, but of real and eternaladvantage. Let me make a final effort of life and of affection, toleave in his heart a thought of immortality. Such a hope might almosthold back my spirit from the gates of death! Dear Richard, I shall risefor half an hour to-morrow, and then let me see him!"
"It would destroy you, Clara! you are quite unfit for the effort; butgive me a message. Say what you please; and, painful as it must be, Ishall see Sir Patrick, personally. We can sympathise with each othernow, as we never did before, and I shall deliver your very words. Youare unfit now, Clara, for any agitation."
"Dear Richard! you never yet denied me anything! Do not now refuse mylast--my very last request. Whatever be the faults of Sir Patrick, hisattachment was disinterested and generous. I cannot die in peacewithout saying that I am grateful--without, at least, endeavoring toconvince him, for his happiness now, as well as hereafter, how true itis, that 'he sins against this life who slights the next.'"
"It might be a work of usefulness and mercy," replied Mr. Granville, ina musing tone; "and if there be a pleasure in life you can yet enjoy,dear Clara, I am not the person who could withhold it."
"That I know. In this world which has so long been my home, Richard, Ihave never lived a moment without being the happier for your affection,and it will be so for ever. I am now counting the last grains of mysand-glass as they fall, and ready to go alone through the portals ofthe tomb. Every sorrow is about to be eternally forgotten, everyblessing to be eternally enjoyed. Most of my feelings and affectionsare already transferred to another and a better world; while I ought,as a dying Christian, to be like an eagle soaring to the sky, andseeing nothing but the sun, yet, Richard, the hope of serving one whomI loved only too well still lingers round my heart, and will not berepulsed. Say then, Richard, that we may meet;--tell him that, standingon the very brink of eternity, I feel as if, even in another world, itwould increase my felicity to know, if permitted to look back onearthly scenes, that I had not left him without hope or consolation."
"I do not believe, Clara, that the invisible world is very distant; butonly that it is hid by the grossness of our mortal bodies; and I dobelieve, my dear sister, that we may both, perhaps, yet see theinfluence of your prayers and of your last words upon one whom I mostsincerely pity," said Mr. Granville, observing the mild, full,melancholy eyes of his sister fixed upon him, while gradually, as hespoke, her countenance became irradiated with peace. "The ways ofProvidence are indeed wonderful! If Dunbar be willing to forget allthat has ever been amiss between us both, I have forgotten it long ago.If he choose it, we shall become friends, till Marion makes usbrothers."
"Oh that I could live to see that day, and then close my eyes in peace;but it must not be! In a few hours I shall have shed my last tear,endured my last sorrow, and conquered my last enemy. Who would not bewilling, then, to change time for eternity, the sufferings of earth forthe joys of heaven, misery for happiness, and a dying life forimmortality!"
A lovelier morning never had smiled on the glad earth, than that onwhich Clara Granville received the visit of Sir Patrick alone. On acouch near the window, into which the sun poured a flood of light andwarmth, propped up by cushions, Clara, with an unearthly brightnessglittering in her eye, and burning on her cheek, looked more like acelestial spirit than a creature of earthly mould; but what passedbetween them, during the long interview which ensued, no one couldtell. Clara's features, when it was about to close, betrayed noagitation, but continued almost motionless for some time, while thetone of her voice became slow and languid. Gradually her
words appearedfainter; her voice grew nearly inaudible; the color which had tingedher cheek died away; and a death-like paleness succeeded. Not a groanwas heaved, nor a feature disturbed; but scarcely had Sir Patrick timehastily to summon Mr. Granville, and to support her in his arms, beforeher countenance became rigid as marble, and her ethereal spirit hadmysteriously fled from its mortal dwelling.
Loveliest of lovely things are they, On earth, that soonest pass away; The rose, that lives its little hour, Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
Ev'n love, long tried, and cherish'd long, Becomes more tender and more strong, At thought of that insatiate grave, From which its yearnings cannot save.
Sir Patrick's grief and horror now became almost delirious, and he wastortured by a feeling of unutterable agony; yet still he seemedresolute to doubt the fatal truth, to hope against hope, to believethat by a miracle Clara might at length awaken from her seeming repose;but her hand grew cold within his own, and the glassy fixedness of hereye carried death to his heart. He felt and knew that all was over, yethe could not allow himself to credit the solemn event; till, at length,covering his face with his hands, he groaned aloud in all the anguishof a sorrow without hope or resignation.
Mr. Granville, forgetful, apparently, of his own grief, tried now toimpart consolation from that rich fund of sublime peace and everlastinghope which belongs, at such an hour, to the Christian; for, though hisown feelings were lacerated and torn with a sorrow that seemed assudden as if he had never till now expected it, still there was a balmfor his wounded spirit, which soothed the first anguish of hissufferings, and would at last, he knew, bring him daily more abundantconsolation. No affliction seems to come so directly from the hand ofGod as the death of those who have been so truly loved; and incontemplating the wide gulf which now divided him from Clara, the manlyspirit of Mr. Granville was overpowered with grief. This seemed amoment too awful for vehement sorrow. He had watched the last struggleof existence in one with whom every thought and emotion were hithertoshared, and now, while her beloved and well-known features remained thesame, all intercourse and all sympathy between them had at once beenclosed; and, in the hours of solemn contemplation which followed,Richard felt more than ever a desire to learn what is seen and feltwhen the gloomy curtain of life is withdrawn, and the glories ofeternity are first revealed; but, checking the speculations of a vaincuriosity, he opened the pages of holy inspiration, there to find aninexhaustible fund of sublime and elevating comfort, convinced that, tohave his affliction sanctified, was even better than to have itremoved.
The sympathy established between Sir Patrick and Mr. Granville nowbrought them daily together, when the young Baronet learned, in suchsociety, to venerate and admire that holy faith, which as yet he couldneither feel nor comprehend; and every hour he became more conscious ofits happy effects on the mind and heart of Richard Granville, whoseemed always ready to forget every selfish thought, when the glory ofGod or the good of others claimed his most arduous and zealousdevotion; and even his grief for Clara, deep and agonizing as it was,found a vent in the most implicit attention to all her wishes, andespecially to her injunctions respecting the restoration of hisfriendly intercourse with Sir Patrick.
The darts of anguish fix not where the seat Of suff'ring hath been thoroughly fortified By acquiescence in the will supreme, For time and for eternity.
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