The Mother's Recompense, Volume 1: A Sequel to Home InfluenceAguilar, Grace
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The Mother's Recompense, Volume 1: A Sequel to Home Influence
Aguilar, Grace
Domestic fiction; Mothers and daughters -- Fiction
had been ever actuated by truth, candour, respectful love, affectionate
confidence towards her parents; now all had been cast aside. If her
mother's words were true, and bitterly she felt they were, that her
conduct to St. Eval had been one continued falsehood, what would her
parents feel when her intercourse with Lord Alphingham was discovered.
Lord Alphingham--she shuddered as his name rose to her lips. Her heart
yearned with passionate intensity towards her mother, to hear her voice
in blessing, to see her beaming smile, and feel her kiss of approbation,
such as at Oakwood she had so often received: she longed in utter
wretchedness for them. That night she was wilfully to cast them off for
ever, flee as a criminal from all she loved; and if she could return
home, confess all, would that confiding love ever be hers again? She
shrunk in trembling terror from her father's sternness, her mother's
look of woe, struggling with severity, the coldness, the displeasure she
would excite--on all sides she beheld but misery; but to fly with Lord
Alphingham, to bind herself for ever with one, whom every passing hour
told her she did not, could not love--oh, all, all, even death itself,
were preferable to that! The words of her brother sounded incessantly in
her ears: "If you value my sister's future peace, let her be withdrawn
from his society." How did she know that those words were wholly without
foundation? the countenance of the Viscount as he had alluded to them
confirmed them to her now awakened eye. Was she about to wed herself to
crime? She remembered the perfect justness, the unwavering charity of
her father, and in those softened moments she felt assured he would not
have condemned him without good cause. Why, oh, why had she thus
committed herself? where was she to turn for succour? where look for aid
to guard her from the fate she had woven for herself? Where, in her
childish faults, had her mother taught her to seek for assistance and
forgiveness? Dare she address her Maker, the God whom, in those months
of infatuated blindness, she had deserted; Him, whom her deception
towards her parents had offended, for she had trampled on His holy laws,
she had honoured them not?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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