The Monctons: A Novel. Volume 1 (of 2)Moodie, Susanna
General
The Monctons: A Novel. Volume 1 (of 2)
Moodie, Susanna
Fiction
But how shall I describe my feelings whilst gazing on the picture of my
mother? The fast falling tears for a long while hid the fondly
remembered features from my sight; but they still floated before the
eyes of my soul in all their original loveliness.
Yes, there was the sweet calm face, the large soft confiding blue eyes,
the small rosy mouth with its gentle winning smile, and the modest
truthful expression of the combined features which gave such a charm to
the whole.
Oh, my mother! my dear lost, angel mother! how that picture recalled
the far-off happy days of childhood, when I sat upon your knees, and
saw my own joyous face reflected in those dove-like eyes! when, ending
some nursery rhyme with a kiss, you bowed your velvet cheek upon my
clustering curls, and bade God bless and keep your darling boy! Would
that I could become a child again, or that I could go to you, though
you cannot return to me!
I leant my head upon the table and wept. Those tears produced a
salutary effect upon my mind, and slipping down upon my knees, I poured
out the feelings of my oppressed heart in prayer, and after awhile rose
from the ground in a more composed state of mind. The picture still lay
there smiling upon me. "Is it of you, dearest mother," said I, "that
bad men dare whisper hard things? Who could look at that pure lovely
face and believe aught against your honour? I could despise my father,
though his only son, could I for an instant imagine him capable of
taking advantage of such youth and innocence. But no, it is a foul
slander invented by a villain to answer some base purpose; and may I
perish, when I believe it true!"
I locked the portraits carefully in my desk, and retired to bed. The
wine I had drank and the unusual excitement of my feelings for a long
time prevented sleep, and it was the dawn of day before I sank to rest.
CHAPTER XIII.
A VISIT FROM THE GREAT MAN OF THE FAMILY.
From that day I became Mr. Moncton's factotum, his confidential clerk,
and principal agent. In all matters that required prompt and skilful
management, he invariably employed me.
If he did not regard me with affection, for that was foreign to his
nature, he respected my abilities, and placed the greatest reliance
on my principles. I attended him in most of his professional journeys,
and was present in every court in which he had an important case. I
no sooner appeared with him in public than I became a person of
considerable consequence among his friends and acquaintances, and
invitations flowed in upon me from all quarters. One thing appeared
very certain, that the same persons who had despised the shabbily-dressed
lawyer's clerk, no longer regarded me with cold eyes as a _poor
relation_, but were among the first to overwhelm me with civilities;
and, for a while, I was intoxicated with the adulation I received from
the world and its smooth-tongued votaries.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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