A Simple Story
Page 33
CHAPTER II.
In a lonely country on the borders of Scotland, a single house by theside of a dreary heath, was the residence of the once gay, volatile MissMilner. In a large gloomy apartment of this solitary habitation (thewindows of which scarce rendered the light accessible) was laid upon herdeath-bed, the once lovely Lady Elmwood--pale, half suffocated with theloss of breath; yet her senses perfectly clear and collected, whichserved but to sharpen the anguish of dying.
In one corner of the room, by the side of an old fashioned stool, kneelsMiss Woodley, praying most devoutly for her still beloved friend, but invain endeavouring to pray composedly--floods of tears pour down herfurrowed cheeks, and frequent sobs of sorrow, break through each piousejaculation.
Close by her mother's side, one hand supporting her head, the otherwiping from her face the cold dew of death, behold Lady Elmwood'sdaughter--Lord Elmwood's daughter too--yet he far away, negligent of whateither suffers. Lady Elmwood turns to her often and attempts an embrace,but her feeble arms forbid, and they fall motionless. The daughterperceiving these ineffectual efforts, has her whole face convulsed withgrief: kisses her mother; holds her to her bosom; and hangs upon herneck, as if she wished to cling there, not to be parted even by thegrave.
On the other side of the bed sits Sandford--his hair grown white--his facewrinkled with age--his heart the same as ever.--The reprover, the enemy ofthe vain, the idle, and the wicked; but the friend and comforter of theforlorn and miserable.
Upon those features where sarcasm, reproach, and anger dwelt, tothreaten and alarm the sinner; mildness, tenderness, and pity beamed, tosupport and console the penitent. Compassion changed his language, andsoftened all those harsh tones that used to denounce perdition.
"In the name of God," said he to Lady Elmwood, "of that God, whosuffered for you, and, suffering, knew and pitied all our weaknesses--Byhim, who has given his word to _take compassion on the sinner's tears_,I bid you hope for mercy. By that innocence in which you once lived, becomforted--By the sorrows you have known since your degradation, hope,that in some measure, you have atoned----By the sincerity that shone uponyour youthful face when I joined your hands, and those thousand virtuesyou have since given proofs of, trust, that you were not born to die_the death of the wicked._"
As he spoke these words of consolation, her trembling hand claspedhis--her dying eyes darted a ray of brightness--but her failing voiceendeavoured in vain, to articulate. At length, fixing her looks upon herdaughter as their last dear object, she was just understood to utter theword "Father."
"I understand you," replied Sandford, "and by all that influence I everhad over him, by my prayers, my tears," (and they flowed as he spoke) "Iwill implore him to own his child."
She could now only smile in thanks.
"And if I should fail," continued he, "yet while I live, she shall notwant a friend or protector--all an old man, like me can answer for"----herehis tears interrupted him.
Lady Elmwood was sufficiently sensible of his words and their import, tomake a sign as if she wished to embrace him: but finding her lifeleaving her fast, she reserved this last token of love for herdaughter--with a struggle she lifted herself from her pillow, clung toher child--and died in her arms.