Barbadoes Girl: A Tale for Young People

by George A. Warren

  CHAPTER XV.

  "I will never go any where again without you, indeed, mother, I amdetermined," said Matilda, with a sorrowful air, the following morning.

  This was the prelude to a confession of error, which in part relievedthe mind of Matilda: but she was still uneasy--she felt as if Charleswould be her apologist with his family, for an error they were likely toblame in her; but the ardour of his manner made her feel much concernedfor _him_--he was dear to her--she felt for him a sister's affection, butfelt that she could never be more to him than she was then. Anxious andrestless, she earnestly desired to see Ellen, whose gentleness anddispassionate good sense would soothe the fretfulness and allay theuneasiness she felt; yet she could not bring herself to call on thefamily--she had not the courage to meet Mr. and Mrs. Harewood, nor thecalmness with which she desired to see the brothers. While she was debatingwhat course to pursue, to her infinite relief she heard that Ellen had justcalled with her father, and that both of them were in the library. Beforeshe had time to welcome them, Ellen, running up stairs, hurried with herinto the dressing-room, and closed the door with an air of secrecy whichshowed her expectation of giving or receiving intelligence of importance,and there was in her countenance an expression which combined both joy andsorrow, and was really indefinable.

  Full of her own cares, and anxious to conceal the most interesting part ofthem, Matilda for some time remained silent, nor did Ellen find the couragerequisite for her own communication; so that this much desired visitpromised little eventual satisfaction. To account for the situation ofEllen, it is necessary to trace the events of the morning in her father'shouse.

  When the family were assembled to breakfast, the conversation naturallyturned upon the ball of the evening before; and Ellen, with friendly zeal,sought to exculpate her friend Matilda from the errors which Mr. Belmontseemed to think her guilty of, in exhibiting herself in a dance, by nomeans decorous, with a young man of Sir Theodore's description.--"I do notsay," added he, "that it was a positively wrong thing, nor do I much wonderat it; for a fine young woman, and an heiress, may be led a great way, bythe flatterers and sycophants who surround her; but I must own I expectedbetter things from the chosen friend of Ellen Harewood, from a girleducated by a pious and sensible mother, and one said to possess a soundunderstanding."

  Edmund was silent, but his varying complexion bespoke the strong interesthe felt in the subject; Charles, on the contrary, warmly entered into it,declaring that a few words which passed between Matilda and him clearlyproved that she had been misled by her party; that her sense of proprietywas as strong as ever; and, in short, that she was a dear, amiable, goodgirl, whom he would defend as long as he lived.

  The warmth of Charles's assertion called a smile from every one. During thetime he spoke, his father had been called out; the servant now entered,desiring _his_ presence also; and it appeared that their early visitantwas a man of great importance, and the cause of his calling at this time,by awakening curiosity, suspended conversation. In a few minutes hedeparted, and Mr. Harewood returned to the breakfast-room, saying as heentered--"I am going to announce a piece of excellent news, although it isaccompanied by a loss we must submit to; our dear Charles is appointed tobe secretary to the embassy to ----, now preparing to embark."

  Mrs. Harewood burst into tears; but as soon as she could speak, sheexpressed her joy, while Ellen, in a broken voice, exclaimed--"Oh, whatwill Matilda say, poor girl?"

  Edmund rushed out of the room, as if to seek his brother, but Mr. Belmontwell knew it was to conceal his emotion; no other person seemed to noticeEllen's unfortunate ejaculation, and when the door was closed, Mr. Belmontcongratulated the parents upon a circumstance so honourable and desirableto their younger son; and as they well knew the sincerity of his character,and the affection he felt for Charles, they freely confided to him theirfeelings at the event; while Ellen innocently declared that she was veryglad he happened to be with them at the time, as he would be a substitutefor dear Charles.

  "Ah!" said Mr. Belmont, "if you, Ellen, could persuade your parents, and,what is in this case of more importance, your _own_ heart, to consider menot only now, but ever, a member of your family, I should be happy indeed."

  Ellen, rather surprised at this speech than its import, for she had longhalf hoped, half feared, to think on this interesting but awful subject,turned to her mother, and hid her blushing cheek upon her shoulder, whilethe parents exchanged looks of satisfaction with each other, and esteemtowards the speaker.

  "Mine, Ellen," continued Mr. Belmont, "is neither a sudden nor violentpassion; I approach you by no flattery--I dazzle you by no exhibition; butas I trust both my fortune and character will bear the scrutiny of yourfriends, your only task, my sweet girl, is to examine your own heart, andinquire there how far I am agreeable to your wishes. I have been a silentadmirer of your virtues, and I can be a patient attendant for yourdecision."

  Ellen gave one glance towards her mother--it answered all her wishes; sheturned, deeply blushing, to Mr. Belmont, and timidly, yet with an air ofperfect confidence, tendered him her hand; she would have spoken, but thevariety of emotion so suddenly called forth by the departure of herbrother, and the declaration of her lover, overpowered her, and hereceived thus a silent, but a full consent to his wishes.

  In the mean time, Edmund had conquered the more immediate pang thatlaboured at his heart, and, entering the library, had grasped the hand ofCharles, and uttered a few words of congratulation, but it was in a voiceso broken, that there was more of sorrow than joy in it.

  Charles had not the slightest doubt of his brother's affection, he did nottherefore doubt for a moment the sincerity of his assertion, but he waspersuaded that the idea of his own situation, as being two years older, andyet likely to remain dependent on his father for some years, was a sensiblemortification to him; and, feeling for his situation, he said--"Ay, my dearfellow, there is a difference between us _now_, sure enough; but there isno doubt of your doing well by and by; besides, you are the eldest, anddeserve to be so; I am sure father can never do too much for such a son asyou are, Edmund."

  Edmund gazed in astonishment to hear Charles express himself with so muchease, at a time when he expected his heart must be overpowered withtrouble; his fears lately excited by the agitation and warmth with whichCharles had vindicated Matilda, and the unguarded exclamation of Ellen, whoevidently thought her younger brother the favourite, now took another turn;he surveyed Charles; he was just twenty-three--a tall, handsome young man,and one who had ever been admired by the ladies. "Perhaps," said he,"internally, poor Matilda loves him, but without having her affectionreturned: this accounts for the many great offers she has refused, forthe sympathy of Ellen, who knows her heart, and for the vindication sheundoubtedly made to him last night; whereas to _me_ she was cold andunintelligible."

  While these painful thoughts rankled in the mind of the young barrister,his happy brother was flying all over the house, receiving from theservants the mixed congratulation of joy in his success and sorrow for hisdeparture; he had also joined the _coterie_ in the parlour, wrung the handof his future brother-in-law, kissed his mother and Ellen, and thanked hisfather twenty times for all his generous cares, before Edmund could musterphilosophy enough to join the family, and listen to its arrangements forthe day.

  It was at length agreed that Edmund should assist his mother in making upa package of books, &c., for the traveller, who, accompanied by Belmont,should visit the city for necessary arrangements; and Mr. Harewood, whoknew that Ellen would naturally wish to see Matilda, agreed to accompanyher thither, being at once desirous to communicate this variousintelligence to Mrs. Hanson, and to witness the effect Charles's departurewould have upon Matilda, whom, at the bottom of his heart, he certainlydesired to have for a daughter, although he would have rejoiced in heralliance with any worthy man.

  We return now to the young ladies in the dressing-room, each eager to hearand to speak, yet each oppressed, though very differently, with solicitude.At len
gth, Ellen, her breast labouring with sighs, and fear lest she shouldwound the heart of her friend, thus spoke: "We are going to lose Charles:he has got an appointment, Matilda."

  "And is he pleased with it, Ellen?"

  "Oh, yes! he seems quite happy: he is running all over the house, just inhis old way, and the servants are all laughing and crying about him, as ifhe were still a school-boy."

  "I am heartily glad of it--he has my sincerest good wishes, and I feelcertain of his success."

  Ellen looked in the face of Matilda, to see if she did _indeed_ rejoice;she perceived a tear twinkle in the corner of her young friend's eye, butit was not the tear of sorrow. Ellen could now read the heart on subjectsof this kind; she felt that she had been completely mistaken in Matilda'ssupposed predilection, and she was almost sorry to see her so happy.

  "There is a--a--another affair going on at our house," said Ellen, aftera pause.

  Matilda felt her heart beat with unusual violence; she could not speak,but her very soul peeped out of her eyes to say--"What is it?"

  "It is not a parting; it--it--is a joining."

  "Oh," said Matilda, calling all her fortitude to her aid, "you are goingto have a wedding, eh?"

  "I believe it will come to that, indeed, some time."

  Matilda turned as pale as death; but her colour rushed suddenly back to hercheeks, as at this moment the door opened, and Mr. Harewood and Mrs. Hansonbroke on their _tete-a-tete_. The former felt assured that poor Matilda hadheard the destination of Charles, and was suffering under it; but as hecould hardly believe Mrs. Hanson would consent to her marriage with hisyoungest son, and as he thought Charles himself had no thoughts ofmarriage at this time, he could not allow himself to rejoice in herpredilection. To relieve her, he said--"Well, my dear, you heard how we aresituated, some of us parting for a time, some uniting for ever; I am sureyou rejoice in all that is good, in either of these cases."

  Matilda, overpowered, burst into sudden tears.

  "My daughter is very nervous this morning," said Mrs. Hanson; "she cannothelp being affected with such material changes in the state of those sheloves so well; you are aware her tears are those of joy, Mr. Harewood."

  Matilda struggled to recover her composure, and, turning to Mr. Harewood,she put both her hands into his, and said, with a low but earnestvoice--"My dear, _dear_ sir, I do most truly rejoice in the prospect ofany good that can befall your family; I saw the--the young lady--thebride-elect--she is very pretty--I hope she will be as good as she ishandsome; and I----"

  Matilda suddenly stopped, unable to articulate the rest of her good wishes,and Mr. Harewood eagerly said--"As to _that_ we will say nothing; I trustEllen will make a good wife; I am sure she has had a good example."

  "_Ellen!_" screamed Matilda; "is it you, Ellen? _you_ that are going to bemarried--you?"

  "Dear me, how astonished you look! I suppose I shall be married some time.I told you that perhaps Mr. Belmont might, _some time_----"

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

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

  "You have sons, sir," tremulously articulated Matilda, not choosing totrust 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 inhis 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 aconsultation on her marriage-settlements."

  Matilda breathed; the lustre of her eye, the glow on her cheek, could notbe mistaken by the fond parent, who now clearly understood the cause ofMatilda's frequent despondency, and the refusals she had given to alloffers of marriage.

  "I wish," said Mrs. Hanson, "that you and Mrs. Harewood and our youngfriends 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, andI 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, MissHanson?"

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

  "Charles has, however, been your advocate so effectually, that I believenot one of the family will ever remember it again."

  "Not _one_!" said Matilda, blushing deeply.

  "Not _one_! Charles is a warm advocate."

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

  Matilda's frankness assured Mr. Harewood that her heart was free where hehad supposed it bound; he was anxious to read her farther; he saw that sheeven sought investigation from him, in whom she confided as a friend andfather; but he again shrunk from the idea of undue influence, and while hewalked about irresolute, time passed, and Edmund and his mother entered thedrawing-room, and Matilda was called to receive them.

  An air of coldness and restraint pervaded the manners of both Edmund andMatilda, to divert which, Mrs. Hanson began to relate the error into whichher daughter had fallen, from the _mauvaise honte_ of Ellen, as shesupposed, and this led them to speak of the ball, and the characters of thepersons present. Of course, poor Matilda was again tormented by hearingthat Sir Theodore was universally believed to be her affianced lover, andshe expressed the most unqualified vexation at the report, declaring thatshe would not go once into public again for seven years, rather thanencourage 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 exultin the declaration, as if it were necessary for his happiness; but whenshe ceased to speak, he relapsed into melancholy.

  "The only way to silence such reports effectually," said Mrs. Hanson, witha tender smile, "will be to place yourself under the protection of someworthy man, whose character you can indeed approve. I have ever objectedto your marrying under age, but I have no objection at all to your gainingliberty, and relinquishing it at the same time. I hope, therefore, inanother year, to see you follow the example of Ellen, provided you canchoose as well as she has done."

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

  Hurt with the extreme paleness which overspread the countenance of theirinestimable son, Mr. and Mrs. Harewood withdrew to the window; and Ellen,whose heart wanted a pretext for watching the arrival of Belmont, joinedthem; when Mrs. Hanson, drawing closer to Edmund, said--"I fear you willnot 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 mindsfrequently."

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

  "I can accuse _you_ of _nothing_," said Matilda; "I wish you could say thesame 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--youpunished me. I felt your punishment last night--to-day you forgive me; andyour 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 offmy guard--you will induce me to make a declaration that may part u
s forever."

  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 toask what you mean by that look of mistrust to me? what right have you tosuppose that I am less generous than yourself, or that I desire to see mychild ungrateful to her young preceptor, or insensible of his merits?"

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

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

  Mrs. Hanson joined the group at the window, and in a few moments they alldescended together, to welcome Charles and Belmont, who soon understood thehappy footing on which those so dear to them were placed; and Charlesenjoyed a hearty laugh at the jealousy he had excited, though he could notregret a circumstance which had in any measure led to a conclusion sodesirable.

  When poor Zebby, whose sable forehead was now shaded by gray locks, wastold all that had happened, she exclaimed with her usual enthusiasm,--"Allright--all happy--Missy have goodee friend, goodee husban--him alway mildand kind; Missy very goodee too--some time little warm, but never, _never_when she lookee at massa; him melt her heart, guide her steps, both go handin 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 yetenjoy the light of reason, and a just perception of the characters of thosearound them.

  When Charles had bade adieu to his family, the lovers of Matilda and Ellenwere each urgent for their respective marriages: but the awfulness of thatsacred engagement into which they were about to enter, the consciousnessthey entertained of the goodness of their parents, and the happiness of thestate they were quitting, held the young ladies for some time in a state ofapparent suspense, and almost incertitude. This was neither the effect ofwant of confidence in the men they loved, nor of that spirit of coquetry bywhich the vain and frivolous part of the sex seek to prolong what theyconsider the day of their power. Far different ideas pervaded their mindsand influenced their conduct; for not only the tenderness of theiraffection for their parents, but the sense of their responsibility asChristian wives, called to new duties and new avocations, appointed toguide their inferiors, and submit to their future husbands, pressed upontheir hearts; and when at length the solemn ceremony took place, it was toeach party rather a day of serious thoughtfulness and fearful anxiety, thanone 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 mostdelightful serenity, and rendered every act of duty an act of pleasure.Matilda looked to Edmund as the guardian of her conduct, and he found inher the reward of his virtues, the companion whose vivacity enlivened thefatigue of study, and whose benevolence extended the circle of hisenjoyments; and although apparently of very different tempers, theaffection they felt for each other, and the well-regulated minds they bothpossessed, rendered them proverbially good and happy.

  After residing a few years abroad, and increasing his knowledge andreputation, Charles returned, and is now become the husband of Miss Weston,who is an amiable and virtuous young woman, well calculated to render himhappy. The mother of this young lady still resides with Mrs. Hanson, towhom 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 estateof Mr. Belmont in Staffordshire. Ellen, as a country gentlewoman, extends aquiet but beneficial influence through an extensive neighbourhood, and isuniversally beloved and respected.

  We will now take leave of the Barbadoes Girl and her friends, with thesincere wish that all who read her story may, like her, endeavour tocorrect in themselves those irregularities of temper, and proneness topride 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 ofevery virtue and every comfort; and we earnestly desire them to hold inmind, that, in order to purify the heart from these unhallowed guests, adeep sense of religion must be the motive, and a strict principle ofself-control the agent, by which so desirable an end can alone be obtained.

  This little story, written rather to instruct than amuse, can only closewith consistency, by briefly recapitulating the lesson it has, perhapsfeebly, but sincerely, endeavoured to inculcate, viz., the necessity ofwatchfulness over our hearts--the excellence and advantage of being openand ingenuous--the efficacy of repentance towards God, and humility eventowards man--and the peculiar necessity of guarding the heart, as with atenfold barrier, to those who are blest with riches and prosperity.