I took the liberty, Madam, said she, of desiring to see you here this
morning, at Sir George's request: he arrived late last night, and brings
most melancholy news from Holland.
Sir George entered the room while she spoke. After the first greeting of
friends long parted were over, I am afraid to ask, Sir George, said I,
yet am impatient to learn something of Mr Faulkland, your lady has
terribly alarmed me; Mr Faulkland is not returned; I dare not enquire
the reason. Tears instantly sprung into Sir George's eyes. He returns no
more, said he, his remains are soon to be conveyed to England to be laid
with his ancestors.
Ah, Sir, cried I, what will poor Mrs Arnold say to this fresh
misfortune?
It was on that account Madam, he replied, that we are now requested to
speak with you, before you saw my sister. You, who are her bosom friend,
can more tenderly disclose this melancholy event than any one. I have
not the courage to see her. We must beg of you, dear Madam, to prepare
the unhappy Sidney for the news.
I asked him the manner of Mr Faulkland's death. I cannot positively say,
answered Sir George, but much I fear he precipitated his own fate.
Mr Warner, or I, constantly staid with him from the time we disclosed
the fatal account we brought concerning Mrs Faulkland. Knowing as we did
the violence of his temper, we were apprehensive of sudden and dreadful
consequences; but he deceived us both; for after the first starts of
passion were over, which though they shocked, did not alarm us, as we
expected them, he assumed a calm resignation to his fate; and talked
with such a rational composure of the strange circumstances of this
incident, that we began to entertain hopes, that the efforts of his
reason, joined to our constant endeavours to sooth and console him,
would in time so far succeed, and though we never expected to see him
restored to a tranquil state of mind, we yet flattered ourselves he
would submit to life upon such terms as Providence thought fit to impose
on him.
I was with him, proceeded Sir George, when he received a letter from my
sister. His hands shook so on perceiving by the superscription that it
came from her, that he let the letter drop. Read it for me, Bidulph,
said he, and tell me how it fares with Mrs Arnold.
I instantly complied with his request. I found by the date of the letter
that it had been delayed much longer than it ought to have been, which I
immediately observed to him, as he had often expressed his uneasiness at
not hearing from my sister.
Mrs Arnold is well, said I, giving him the letter; read what it says,
and let her teach you fortitude.
He withdrew to a window to peruse it. After he had read it, I admire
your sister's stoicism, said he, stepping back to his chair. This is
true philosophy, laying his finger on the letter which he still held in
his hand. _Her_ heroic soul is still unmoved, and above the reach of
adversity. Happy Mrs Arnold--What a vain fool was I to think that such a
mind as _hers_ could be subdued. He paused and seemed for a while buried
in thought. Then putting the letter up in his pocket, he began to
discourse on some other topic.
We passed the evening together, continued Sir George, and though
Faulkland was far from being chearful, I thought he appeared more
tranquil than he had done since my arrival.
I talked to him of his returning to England with me. He said with a
smile, I think I ought to go if it were for no other reason but that I
may have my dust mingled with that of my forefathers; and this office,
Bidulph, I expect from you, if you should outlive me.
I laughed at him, and said I thought he had a much more material reason
that pressed his return.
Your estate, said I, is unsettled; and if you were to die abroad in the
predicament in which you now stand, what is to become of your son?
I have already done for my son, said he, all that I thought in justice
was in my power to do: I have long ago settled my personal fortune on
him, that in case my next heirs should on account of the illegitimacy of
his birth, claim the family estate, he may have a handsome support
without it.
And indeed I never wished to debar my lawful heirs in favour of this
child; though I love him tenderly, and they are worthless people, whom I
despise, and with whom I never had any intercourse.
I replied, if that were so, as the manner of the child's birth was a
secret, I wished he might, undisturbed, inherit his father's fortune,
when he should come to pay the last debt to nature.
He answered, where such a vast property was at stake, there would not be
people wanting whose interest would engage them to discover the secret;
and he doubted not but the irregularity of his wife's conduct, had
already occasioned enquiries to be made.
Supposing, said I, you had had another son by Mrs Faulkland since your
marriage--as you could have no objection to the bequeathing your fortune
to him, would it not have appeared strange in the eyes of the world that
you should disinherit your eldest son.
It might have appeared so, said he, but I certainly should have done it:
and for that reason, as I have no child but him, I have made such a
disposition of my fortune as I now tell you. If I live, I may increase
my son's patrimony; if not, he must be contented with that which I have
bequeathed to him, and let my kindred scramble for the rest.
We staid together till it was late; he discoursed on a variety of
subjects, but mentioned not my sister's name during the whole time.
I thought I left him well, and his mind tolerably composed. We were to
set out on our return in six days; but an account was brought to me in
the morning, that Mr Faulkland was found dead in his bed.
There were no symptoms discovered on the body that could let us into the
occasion of his death; but as my own fears suggested too much, I chose
not to be particular in my enquiries. Wishing rather that his fatal
story should be buried in silence.
Mr Warner found that his affairs were likely to delay him longer than
the time proposed; and as I had nothing farther to detain me in Holland,
I set out the day after my unfortunate friend's death, leaving to Mr
Warner, the care of conveying his remains to England, agreeably to the
desire he had expressed, which I now considered as his last injunction
laid on me.
Thus, proceeded Sir George, by a series of fatal events, each of which
was occasioned by motives in themselves laudable, has one of the bravest
and most noble-minded men on earth been cut off in the prime of his
youth--O! Faulkland, why did you suffer that gallant spirit to be
vanquished?--
Sir George's emotion stopped his farther speech, I was too much affected
to say any thing to him, but took a hasty leave of Lady Sarah, in order
to go to Mrs Arnold.
As soon as I entered my friend's room Cecilia, said she, if your
countenance be as faithful an interpreter of your mind as it used to be,
you have some thing disastrous to relate; you may say anything,
misfortune and I have been so familiar, I shall not shrink as its
approach.
Sir George is returned, I replied, you will see him to-day.
Is he come alone, she asked? Alone, I replied. You but repeat my words,
Cecilia, without adding any thing from yourself. Shall I interpret the
meaning of that mournful echo? Mr Faulkland no longer lives!
I was silent--Oh I knew him too well, said she, raising her voice with
energy, to think he would survive this last blow.
His death was natural, said I, for any thing that appears to the
contrary. God be praised for that, cried Mrs Arnold! _If_ so, I am
satisfied that he is at peace.
She then enquired after Mr Warner, and her brother, without making any
farther mention of Mr Faulkland.
Whilst we were in discourse, Master Faulkland ran into the room. He had
been at play with the two little Miss Arnolds, who were in pursuit of
him, And he flew to Mrs Arnold to hide him. She folded him tenderly in
her arms; then turning to me, Look at this boy, said she, he is the
perfect image of his father.
When am I to go to my papa, cried the child, as he hung round her neck?
This innocent unexpected demand quite vanquished Mrs Arnold's fortitude.
She set him down without being able to answer his question, then said,
Excuse me, my Cecilia, I would wish to be alone for to-day. It was not
yet a season to administer consolation, and I withdrew.
She staid in London but two days after this; when, as she had before
resolved, she retired to an estate in Buckinghamshire, which her kinsman
had purchased and settled on her for ever.
With her brother's consent, she took Master Faulkland with her, and
prevailed on Mr Price to accompany her into the country, to whom she
committed the care of the child's education.
Mr Warner, whom she had acquainted by letter with her intention,
approved of the step she had taken. He returned to England in about
three weeks after her departure from her house in town, which she had
left for his reception just as he had fitted it up for her.
Before I accompany Mrs Arnold into her solitude, I shall just briefly
mention some other persons who were connected with her story.
The relations of Mr Faulkland, as he had foreseen, claimed his estate,
and at length obtained it, the illegitimacy of the child being proved.
The wretched Mrs Faulkland, abandoned and despised, returned to England;
but as she was there hated and shunned by every one, she remained in
obscurity for a few years, and then died unpitied and unlamented.
I now return to Mrs Arnold, who, settled in her quiet retreat in the
country, it might be hoped would have passed the remainder of her days
undisturbed by any new calamity.
That only source of true heroism of soul, religion, had all along
supported, and prevented her from sinking under the most trying
afflictions. Many and bitter were the sufferings she had already
endured; but she was, to use her own words, _Set up as a mark_; and the
deep afflictions that still pursued her, and clouded even her latter
days with misfortunes, may serve to shew that it is not _here_ that true
virtue is to look for its reward. I saw her at a time when this
reflection, as it had been her chief, so was it her last and only
consolation.
Possessed as she was of an admirable understanding, and an enlarged
mind, in the deepest solitude she had always resources of entertainment
within herself. Her natural disposition ever sweet and complying, was
improved by her sufferings into a patience very rare in woman; and a
resignation imbibed at first from a rigid education, was heightened by
religion into an almost saint-like meekness and humility.
I shall pass over the first ten years of her retirement, in which
nothing material happened but the marriage of the amiable Patty Main to
a gentleman of a large estate, and the death of her worthy kinsman Mr
Warner, who bequeathed her his whole fortune.
Miss Arnold, her eldest daughter, was now something more than fifteen,
and fulfilled the promise her childhood gave, of her being a perfect
beauty, Miss Cecilia was about a year younger, and though not so
handsome as her sister, was accounted one of the finest young ladies of
her time.
With what delight have I seen this excellent mother, while these two
charming young creatures were all attention, relate to them the
extraordinary and affecting incidents of her life.
This, said she, I do, not as a murmurer at my fate, nor to move your
pity at my misfortunes, but to teach you by my example, that there is no
situation in life exempt from trouble. It found _me_ under the tender
care of the best of parents, it pursued me into my husband's house. In
my virgin state, when I was a wife, and in my widowhood, I was equally
persecuted.
Poverty, I once thought, would have exempted me from every ill, but what
its own hand inflicted; and had it remained my companion, the bitterest
misfortune of my love would have been prevented; for, if wealth had not
accompanied my hand, the world could not have persuaded me to yield it
to Mr Faulkland.
Do not therefore pride yourselves on the great fortunes you are likely
to possess: I have received no other satisfaction in mine, than what
arose from the benefits I have conferred on others.
By such lessons as these, did this tender parent endeavour to fortify
their young minds against the vicissitudes of fortune, and to teach them
not to place their confidence in riches.
She dwelt so often upon this theme, that she seemed to have a
presentiment of those evils, which were now ready to pour in like a
torrent upon her.
Gracious Heaven! how inscrutable are thy ways! Her affluent fortune, the
very circumstance which seemed to promise her, in the eve of life, some
compensation for the miseries she had endured in her early days, now
proved the source of new and dreadful calamities to her, which, by
involving the unhappy daughters of an unhappy mother in scenes of the
most exquisite distress, cut off from her even the last resource of hope
in this life, and rendered the close of her history still more....
* * * * *
Here the lady's narrative breaks off, and the editor, not having it in
his power, after the most diligent enquiry, to recover any more of the
manuscript, is, to his great mortification, compelled to offer this
fragment.
_The END of the_ THIRD VOLUME.