Mystery and Confidence: A Tale. Vol. 1Pinchard, Elizabeth Sibthorpe
General
Mystery and Confidence: A Tale. Vol. 1
Pinchard, Elizabeth Sibthorpe
Fiction
Ross laughed and took her away, and Joanna, looking smilingly at Ellen,
said--"Are you quite as much at a loss to understand all this as my
mother, Ellen? Come, do exert yourself a little, and perhaps by and bye,
with Mordaunt's assistance, you may find out the meaning of some of
these extraordinary things." Ellen half laughed, and blushing, told her
she was very teasing; but the pleasure which shone in her eyes evinced
she was tolerably sure the cause of these new appearances, when
explained, would not be disagreeable. Mrs. Ross came in again with a
face of wonder, and saying only--"Lord bless me! well,--what strange
things have come to pass!--come, Ellen, child, make haste and dress
yourself as nicely as possible--come, Joanna, I want you--there are
fifty things to do," took Joanna away. Ross joined Ellen, who was
hastily putting up her work, impatient to escape to her own room, and
reflect in quiet; and taking her hand with paternal tenderness, while
his fine countenance was radiant with benevolent joy, said:--
"Compose yourself, my dear child; abate as much as possible this evident
emotion; for though with pleasure I tell you every wish of your heart is
likely to be fulfilled, nay in some respects perhaps exceeded, yet I
would have you receive Mr. Mordaunt's declaration, of what I believe to
be the sincerest regard, with something of composure, nay, even of
dignity: for though, my dear girl, your station in life may, and does
render you his inferior, yet, with your mind and person, he ought to
think the affection of a heart so guileless no mean acquisition. Go, my
dear, to your room, and tranquillize the too visible agitation of your
spirits."
Ellen affectionately kissed the kind hand which held her own, and
silently retired.
CHAP. IX.
----The sun goes down;
Far off his light is on the naked crags
Of Penmanmawr and Arvon's ancient hills;
And the last glory lingers yet awhile,
Crowning old Snowdon's venerable head,
That rose amid his mountains----
----Where Mona the dark island stretch'd
Her shore along the ocean's lighter line.
SOUTHEY'S MADOR.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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