Self-Raised; Or, From the DepthsSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
General
Self-Raised; Or, From the Depths
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
Fiction
And her contemplated act of complaining to the authorities was to be
her first step towards that end. Having resolved upon this measure,
Claudia felt more at ease. She drew the curtains of her window, and
seated herself in her favorite easy-chair before the bright, sea-
coal fire, and rang for tea. Sally brought the waiter up to her
mistress, and remained in attendance upon her.
"Has anything been heard of Katie yet?" inquired Lady Vincent.
"No, ma'am, nothing at all," answered Sally through her sobs.
"Don't cry; tell them when you go down, to keep up the search
through the neighborhood; and if she is not forthcoming before to-
morrow morning, I will take such steps as shall insure her
discovery," said Lady Vincent, as she sipped her tea.
Sally only wept in reply.
"Remove this service now. And you need not come up again this
evening unless you have news to bring me of Katie, for I need to be
alone," said Lady Vincent, as she sat her empty cup upon the waiter.
Sally took the service from the room.
And the viscountess wheeled her chair around to the fire, placed her
feet upon the fender, and yielded her wearied and distracted spirit
up to the healing and soothing influences of night and solitude. As
she sat there, the words of a beautiful hymn glided into her memory.
Often before this evening, lying alone and wakeful upon her bed,--
feeling the great blessing night brought her, in isolating her
entirely from her evil companions, and drawing her into a purer
sphere, feeling all the sweet and holy influences of night around
her,--she had soothed her spirit to rest repeating the words of Mr.
Longfellow's hymn:
"From the cool cisterns of the midnight air
My spirit drinks repose;
The fountains of perpetual peace flows there,
From those deep cisterns flows.
Oh, Holy Night! from thee I learn to bear
What souls have borne before,
Thou lay'st thy fingers on the lips of care
And they complain no more.
Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer,
Descend with broad-winged flight,
The welcome, the thrice prayed-for, the most fair,
The best beloved Night!"
She repeated it now. And it soothed her like a benediction,
A solitary night in her own boudoir would not seem to promise much
enjoyment; yet Claudia was happier, because more peaceful now than
she had ever seen since her first arrival at Castle Cragg.
She sat on, letting the hours pass calmly and silently over her,
until the clock struck ten. Then to her surprise she heard a
knocking at the outer hall door, followed by the sound of an
arrival, and of many footsteps hastening up the stairs.
Claudia arose to her feet in astonishment, and at the same moment
heard the voice of the viscount without, saying in ruffianly tones:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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