Clergy -- Fiction; Great Britain -- Fiction; Religious fiction
This important business concluded, Mr. Cartwright rose to go, saying,
"You have filled my heart and my head so completely by the communication
of Sir Gilbert Harrington's conduct, that I protest to you I do not at
this moment recollect why it was I troubled you with a visit this
morning. I shall recollect it, I dare say, when I see you no longer; and
if I do, you must let me come back before very long to tell you."
"But whether you recollect it or not," replied Mrs. Mowbray in a
plaintive tone, "I trust you will not let it be long before I see you:
otherwise, Mr. Cartwright, I shall not know how to proceed when I
receive Sir Gilbert's answer."
This appeal was answered by an assurance, uttered in a tone of the most
soothing kindness, that he would never be far from her when she wished
him near; and then, with a pastoral and affectionate pressure of her
hand, he left her.
Fanny kept her word, and was walking up and down about a dozen yards
from that end of the shrubbery which terminated in the road leading to
the house. Mr. Cartwright looked in that direction as he stepped from
the library window, and walking quickly to the spot, conversed with her
for several minutes as she stood leaning over the gate. Fanny smiled,
blushed, and looked delighted: her hand, too, was pressed with
affectionate kindness; and Mr. Cartwright returned to his vicarage and
his early dinner.
CHAPTER XI.
HELEN'S MISERY AT HER MOTHER'S DISPLEASURE.--SIR G. HARRINGTON'S LETTER
ON THE SUBJECT OF THE WILL.
When Miss Torrington and Helen retreated to the dressing-room
appropriated to the former, which was the apartment in which they
generally pursued their morning studies, they sat down disconsolately
enough to review the results of their enterprise.
"Everything is ten times worse than it was before, Helen!" said her
friend; "and it is all my fault!"
"Your fault?--Oh no! But I believe we are both of us too young to
interfere, with any reasonable hope of doing good, between those who in
age and wisdom are so greatly our superiors. Oh, Rosalind! I fear, I
fear that my dearest mother is very angry with me!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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