"I will not lay down my pen without thanking you for your kindness
to my young friend, Amy; she says you are very kind. And here again
I would repeat what I said in a former letter to Mrs. Murchison,
that she has been tenderly nurtured, and I would not that her young
spirit should be broken. Forget not your promise to treat her more
as a companion and friend, than as a governess, or as the latter
class are sometimes treated. I am inclined to doubt any promise of
yours being kept, but I have Mr. Linchmore's word, and I am
content.
"And now farewell. May God forgive you, as I do. When your hour of
death draws near--for in this changing and transitory life, we know
not what a day may bring forth, or how soon we may be summoned
away, and perhaps I shall never write to you again--may it smooth
your dying hour, and give peace to your then troubled, remorseful
heart, to know, that she whom you so deeply injured and so cruelly
deceived and whose life you helped to render desolate, has forgiven
you.
"ELLEN ELRINGTON."
There was an expression of pain on Mrs. Linchmore's face as she read,
but not a sigh not a tear escaped her; perhaps those had all been shed
long ago, or surely those sad, earnest words, from a sorrowful heart
would have moved her; but ere she closed the letter and looked up, the
painful look passed away, and a sarcastic curl had settled on her lip,
and shone brightly in her full dark eye. She crushed the letter in her
hand as she would perhaps have crushed the writer, if she could, and
laughed aloud; a laugh so hollow, so forced, its very echo would have
made one's blood run cold; but there was no fear of its being heard, she
was still alone, as she felt with satisfaction as she glanced hurriedly
around.
Again she laughed. But this time the tones were more subdued, the echo
was scarcely heard.
She crushed the letter more tightly in her hand, until the clear blue
veins were almost swelled to bursting, while she murmured, "so much for
Mrs. Elrington's letter. Did she think to frighten and make a coward of
me. Pshaw! she was mistaken; _I am altered and changed_, for it amused
me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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