Christian life; Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Young women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction
The door was opened for me by Miss Mortimer's only domestic; a grave and
reverend-looking person, with silver grey hair, combed smooth under a
neat crimped coif, and with a starched white handkerchief crossed
decently upon her breast. Nor were her manners less a contrast to those
of the flippant gentlewomen to whose attendance I was accustomed. With
abundance of ceremony, she ushered me up stairs; then passing me with a
low courtesy, and a few words of respectful apology, she went before me
into her mistress's apartment, and announced my arrival in terms in
which the familiar kindness of a friend blended oddly with the reverence
of an inferior. Miss Mortimer, with an exclamation of joy, stretched her
arms fondly towards me. Prepared as I was for an alteration in her
appearance, I was shocked at the change which a few weeks had effected.
A faint glow flushed her face for a moment, and vanished. Her eyes, that
were wont to beam with such dove-like softness, now shed an ominous
brilliance. The hand which she extended towards me, scarcely seemed to
exclude the light, and every little vein was perceptible in its sickly
transparency. Yet her wasted countenance retained its serenity; and her
feeble voice still spoke the accents of cheerfulness. 'My dearest
Ellen,' said she, 'this is so kind! And yet I expected it too! I knew
you would come.'
Blushing at praise which my tardy kindness had so ill deserved, I
hastily enquired concerning her health. 'I believe,' said she smiling,
though she sighed too, 'that I am still to cumber the ground a little
longer. I am told that my immediate danger is past.'
'Heavens be praised,' cried I, with fervent sincerity.
'God's will be done,' said Miss Mortimer: 'I once seemed so near my
haven! I little thought to be cast back upon the stormy ocean; but,
God's will be done.'
'Nay, call it not the stormy ocean,' said I. 'Say rather, upon a
cheerful stream, where you and I shall glide peacefully on together. You
will soon be able to come to us at Richmond; and then I will show you
all the affection and all the respect which----' 'I ought always to have
shown,' were the words which rose to my lips; but pride stifled the
accents of confession. 'Were you once able,' continued I, 'to taste the
blessed air that stirs all living things so joyously to-day, and see how
all earth and heaven are gladdened with this glorious sunshine, you
would gain new life and vigour every moment.'
'Ay, he is shining brightly,' said Miss Mortimer, looking towards her
darkened casement. 'And a better sun, too, is gladdening all earth and
heaven; but I, confined in a low cottage, see only the faint reflection
of his brightness. But I know that He is shining gloriously,' continued
she, the flush of rapture mounting to her face, 'and I shall yet see Him
and rejoice!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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