First Love. Mrs. Loudon
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Название: First Love
Автор: Mrs. Loudon
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4064066387600
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When Henry was old enough for public education, Mrs. Montgomery wrote to her sister, to offer an allowance for the expenses of placing him at school. St. Aubin ordered his wife to accept the offer, and selected S—B—school, with the meanest description of lodging in the neighbouring village, as the cheapest he could hear of, that a part of the allowance, which was liberal, might remain in his own hands.
The school-house, at the period of which we speak, could accommodate but a very few of the boys, while the rest were generally lodged in the houses of the poor villagers; where, it is to be feared, they lorded it, and did just as they pleased.
Rather more than a year before the opening of this history, St. Aubin was assailed by a temptation, against which, the fear of detection, in the desperate state of his affairs, was an insufficient defence. He yielded, and became engaged in a swindling transaction to an immense amount. The business was discovered, and St. Aubin apprehended under circumstances which left no doubt of his being hung, unless steps were taken to prevent the prosecution. In this extremity the wretched Maria entreated her sister, if the sacrifice of the fortune so long preserved would suffice, to rescue with it herself and child from the disgrace of having a husband and father die an ignominious death. A compromise was accordingly offered, and accepted. It was not, however, in the power of the persons principally interested, to do more than connive at the escape of St. Aubin, who therefore fled the kingdom, taking with him his miserable wife, and his black factotum, the only slaves utter beggary had left him; and abandoning the child, still at S—B—school, to the compassion of Mrs. Montgomery. Nor did he remit any part of his hatred to that lady, notwithstanding her late concession; on the contrary, he called down fresh imprecations on her head, as being the sole cause, he said, of all his misfortunes, by having withheld the money at the time it would have been really of use, and enabled him to have arranged his affairs before they became quite desperate.
The next accounts Mrs. Montgomery had of her sister and St. Aubin were, that the ship in which they had sailed, with all the crew, and passengers, had perished off the coast of France. The affair was of too public a nature to afford, from the first, the slightest hope of mis-statement; for the vessel, though a merchantman, was of importance, from the value of her cargo, as she had much specie on board. The circumstances too under which she was lost were remarkable, and consequently made a great noise, for the weather was perfectly calm. She had been seen and passed in the evening by a frigate homeward bound, but after that was never seen or heard of more, and not even one individual, it was stated, had escaped, to relate the particulars of the accident: it was therefore concluded, that she must have foundered during the night.
Thus was Henry cast entirely on Mrs. Montgomery; who, while she grieved to trace in him the evil nature of his father, could not help loving him, as the child of her poor lost sister. Having concluded this necessary retrospect, we shall, in our next chapter, return to our narrative.
CHAPTER V.
“He
To her face looked up, with innocent love,
And she looked fondly on him.”
We left the family at Lodore House enjoying, we hope, the refreshment of a good night’s rest. The next morning Frances, before she thought of breakfast, repaired to the bedside of Edmund. He had been for some time awake; but, unaccustomed, it would seem, to have any friend or confidant, he had not ventured to speak or stir. The tones of Frances’ voice, naming him to the servants as she inquired for him, appeared to bring at once happiness and confidence to his heart. He opened his eyes as she bent over him: he started up, clung round her neck, and wept; though now it was evidently for joy. These first transports, over however, he cast, from time to time, doubting glances on the various sides of the apartment, and especially towards that in which the door was placed, and evinced a great anxiety to retain Frances’ hand. She thought him feverish; and with great alarm perceived that his poor little frame was covered with fearful bruises. His neck and hands first drew her attention; and Mrs. Smyth, the housekeeper, soon ascertained that the limbs, concealed by the night-dress, had suffered full as much. Frances sent to Keswick for medical aid, and left her charge with Mrs. Smyth. Mrs. Smyth was a good-natured woman, added to which, the patience and gentleness of the little sufferer had begun to win upon her heart, from the very moment her assistance was first ordered to him. She found it necessary to sit by and encourage him while he breakfasted, for, like a wild animal, driven by hunger nearer to the haunts of man than usual, he started, and desisted from eating, at every sound.
“And what might you have for breakfast yesterday’s morn, my dear?” said Mrs. Smyth.
“Nothing,” he answered.
“And what had you for dinner, then?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing, my dear!” repeated the good woman; “and ye could na ha’ less! Ney fault tell the cooking o’ sic dinners, to be sure! And wha was it then, that beat and bruised the life and saul out on ye in this shamefoo manner, my dear?” she continued.
Edmund trembled, sighed heavily, and was silent.
“And win’t ye tall me wha it was ’at beat ye?”
Tears stood in his eyes, but still he was silent.
“So you win’t speak till me! And after the nice breakfast I geed ye, too!”
The tears now flowed, but still he was silent.
“And wha was it then, that droonded ye in the water?”
He looked all round, but did not speak; and Mrs. Smyth soon saw it was vain to persist in questioning him.
Mr. Dixon, the Keswick surgeon, arrived. He inquired of Mrs. Smyth what the child had eaten, and how his food had seemed to agree with him. Having received due replies, he turned to Frances, who by this time was just entering, and addressed her thus:—
“I should not have anticipated, madam—I should not have anticipated, that so great a variety of aliment would have assimilated well in the child’s stomach; but, such being the case, I never set my face against facts, madam!—never set my face against facts! I should, therefore, continue the course which has been hitherto pursued, with respect to nutriment.”
“Yes, sir; but have you seen his bruises?” asked Frances.
“My practice is very simple, madam,” resumed the doctor, without answering her question; “I love to go hand-in-hand with our great instructress, Nature.”
“But—these terrible bruises, sir! What is your——”
“It is too much the custom with men of our profession, to oppose the efforts of nature; but I love to assist them, madam—I love to assist them.”
“You are quite right, sir. But, do you think those bruises will be of any consequence?”
“Depend upon it, madam, depend upon it, there is always a revulsion, as it were, towards right; a rebounding, a returning, in nature to her usual functions, as first ordained by her all, wise Creator; and our part, is carefully to watch those movements. And when the elasticity of any power is impaired by the forcible, СКАЧАТЬ