Christian life; Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Young women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction
She did not long remain with me; for friends more sympathising than she
are soon weary of witnessing the unrestrained indulgence of grief. Yet
she did not leave me abruptly. She was too much accustomed to follow the
smooth path of conciliation, that she continued to pursue it even when
it no longer promised advantage; and she satisfied me with some
plausible excuse for going, and with a promise of speedy return.
The tears which for many hours I continued to shed relieved my oppressed
spirit; and by degrees I awoke to a full sense of my altered state. From
the proudest security of affluence,--from a fearless confidence in
myself, and in all around me, one fatal stroke had dashed me for ever. A
darker storm had burst upon me, and wrought a ruin more deep, more
irretrievable. That tie, which not the hardest heart resigns without
pain, had been torn from mine with force sudden and terrible; and a pang
unutterable had been added to that misfortune which turns love, and
reverence, and gratitude into anguish. What could be added to those
horrors, except that conscience should rise in her fury to remind me
that, when my presence might have soothed my father's sorrows, I had
been absent with an injurious purpose; and that the arrows of misfortune
had been rendered mortal by the rebellion of his child? This last
incurable pang the mercy of Heaven has saved me. I learned that my
father died ignorant of my intended flight.
Miss Arnold, I found, had quitted our house for that of her brother, as
soon as our last and worst disaster was discovered by the domestics. Of
all the summer friends who had amused my prosperity, not one approached
to comfort my affliction. Even my servants, chosen without regard to
their moral character, and treated with reference to its improvement;
corrupted by the example of dissipation; undisciplined and
uninstructed,--repaid the neglect of my domestic duties by a hardened
carelessness of my wants and will. After the first transports of grief
had subsided, I observed this desertion; and I felt it with all the
jealousy of misfortune. Not three days were passed since a crowd of
obsequious attendants had anticipated my commands; now I could scarcely
obtain even the slight service which real necessity required.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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