"Now leave me, Harriet, for a short time--I wish to be alone," said Miss
Aubrey; and she was obeyed. She presently rose and bolted the door; and
then, secure from interruption, walked slowly to and fro for some time;
and a long and deep current of melancholy thoughts and feelings
flowed through her mind and heart. She had but a short time before
seen her sister's sweet children put into their little beds for
the last time at Yatton; and together with their mother, had hung
fondly over them, kissing and embracing them--their destined little
fellow-wanderers--till her feelings compelled her to leave them. One by
one, all the dear innumerable ties which had attached her to Yatton, and
to everything connected with it, ever since her birth, had been severed
and broken--ties, not only the strength, but very existence of which,
she had scarce been aware of, till then. She had bade--as had all of
them--repeated and agonizing farewells to very dear and old friends. Her
heart trembled as she gazed at the objects familiar to her eye, and
pregnant with innumerable little softening associations, ever since her
infancy. Nothing around them now belonged to _them_--but to a
stranger--to one who--she shuddered with disgust. She thought of the
fearful position in which her brother was placed--entirely at the mercy
of, it might be, selfish and rapacious men--what indeed was to become of
all of them? At length she threw herself into the large old easy-chair
which stood near the window, and with a fluttering heart and hasty
tremulous hand, drew an open letter from her bosom. She held it for some
moments, as if dreading again to peruse it--but at length unfolded and
read a portion of it. 'Twas full of fervent and at the same time
delicate expressions of fondness; and after a short while, her hand
dropped, with the letter, upon her lap, and she burst into a passionate
flood of tears. After an interval of several minutes, she again took up
the letter--read a little farther--still more and more moved by the
generous and noble sentiments it contained--and at length, utterly
overcome, she again dropped her hand, and sobbed aloud long and
vehemently. "It cannot--cannot--no, it _cannot_ be," she murmured; and,
yielding to her feelings for a long while, her tears showered down her
pallid, beautiful cheeks.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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