The old vicarage : $b A novelHubback, Mrs. (Catherine-Anne Austen)
General
The old vicarage : $b A novel
Hubback, Mrs. (Catherine-Anne Austen)
English fiction -- 19th century
Not that the girls wished their sister any harm, or had the slightest
dislike to seeing her happy; but at their age the quiet monotony of a
prosperous life seems dull in prospect, and they had no idea that
misery and misfortune, anxiety, suspense, and sorrow were not the most
pleasant accompaniments of life, when occasioned by sufficiently
romantic and poetic causes. They did not know how reality strips
suffering of romance, not only to the individual who grieves, but to
the spectators who witness it: and that mourners who go about the
daily affairs of life, hiding a broken heart under an outward
calmness, may be extremely interesting to read of, but hardly excite
so much actual sympathy and compassion, as one who has to walk through
the world with a wooden leg.
But all this these two girls had yet to learn; and in the mean time
they were greatly rejoiced when they understood how rightly they had
guessed, and learned that the evident and marked devotion with which
Captain Hepburn had listened to Hilary, watched her footsteps,
conversed with her, and finally saved her life (for they always gave
him the whole credit of that adventure, and were, perhaps, for his
sake, a little unjust to Charles), when they learned that this was
finally to be rewarded with her love and faith. In short, the
engagement gave them perfect satisfaction.
Mr. Duncan was very well pleased; yet he certainly would have
preferred the richer _parti_: he liked Charles, perhaps, a little
better than he did the other; and there could be no doubt as to which,
in common language, was the best match. If Hilary was happy, there was
nothing more to be required; but he would certainly have wished either
that Captain Hepburn had been in Charles Huyton’s place as regarded
position, or that Charles Huyton had been the accepted suitor.
But if Hilary was happy, that was enough. And she was happy,
exquisitely happy; for the five days that her lover was able to
remain, she was as joyful and blithe as a bird. She recovered her
health, of course; she went about her daily tasks singing and smiling,
making every body near her partakers in her gayety. She felt she had
one to trust to now, on whom she should have a claim; she looked
forward with pleasure, and saw the future very bright. In the happy
hours they spent together, she found one to whom she could express her
past difficulties, her bygone sorrows and trials, one whose firmness
strengthened, and whose tenderness comforted her. Oh! what delightful
seasons of confidence these were; dearly prized at the time――more
dearly still in memory.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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