Scenes and Characters, or, Eighteen Months at BeechcroftYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
Scenes and Characters, or, Eighteen Months at Beechcroft
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Domestic fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Her brother Henry was the only person who knew what she had done, and he
alone perceived something of tremulousness about her in the midst of the
even cheerfulness with which she had from the first supported her
father’s spirits. Mr. Mohun, however, did not long remain in ignorance,
for Frank Hawkesworth himself arrived at Beechcroft to plead his cause
with Eleanor. He knew her value too well to give her up, and Mr. Mohun
would not hear of her making such a sacrifice for his sake. But Eleanor
was also firm, and after weeks of unhappiness and uncertainty, it was at
length arranged that she should remain at home till Emily was old enough
to take her place, and that Frank should then return from India and claim
his bride.
Well did she discharge the duties which she had undertaken; she kept her
father’s mind at ease, followed out his views, managed the boys with
discretion and gentleness, and made her sisters well-informed and
accomplished girls; but, for want of fully understanding the characters
of her two next sisters, Emily and Lilias, she made some mistakes with
regard to them. The clouds of sorrow, to her so dark and heavy, had been
to them but morning mists, and the four years which had changed her from
a happy girl into a thoughtful, anxious woman, had brought them to an age
which, if it is full of the follies of childhood, also partakes of the
earnestness of youth; an age when deep foundations of enduring confidence
may be laid by one who can enter into and direct the deeper flow of mind
and feeling which lurks hid beneath the freaks and fancies of the early
years of girlhood. But Eleanor had little sympathy for freaks and
fancies. She knew the realities of life too well to build airy castles
with younger and gayer spirits; her sisters’ romance seemed to her
dangerous folly, and their lively nonsense levity and frivolity. They
were too childish to share in her confidence, and she was too busy and
too much preoccupied to have ear or mind for visionary trifles, though to
trifles of real life she paid no small degree of attention.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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