"I am sorry to say he is not. He may appear such in your presence,

and he may be described as such by his own family, but when his mode

of life is inquired into, he will be found frequenting places and

societies which a virtuous man would shun as offensive to his taste,

and destructive of his honour."

When a forbidden passion has once gained an ascendency over the mind

of a female, it very often throws such a spell around her, that she

becomes either unable or unwilling to see the inevitable ruin that

lies before her; and though she will listen to the advice of her

friends with apparent interest, and sometimes profess to adopt it,

under a full conviction that it is such as she ought to follow, yet

as soon as she comes into contact with the fatal object on which her

affections are irrecoverably placed, she feels an influence which

destroys all her wise resolves, and hurries her to her doom.

Thus it was with the infatuated Emma, who, after struggling with

her affections for many months, and endeavouring to recover that

mental peace which she formerly enjoyed, rashly determined to follow

the impulse of her will, though her ruin should be the inevitable

consequence.

The family had accepted an invitation to spend a few days with an

intimate friend, who resided near Tunbridge Wells, but as Emma did

not wish to go into company at present, she was excused, and took

leave of her parents and sisters with the tenderest expressions of

attachment, and said she hoped they would enjoy the visit. On their

return they were informed by the housekeeper that Miss Emma had not

been home since the day after they left, but had requested her to

present the following letter to her father as soon as she saw him:--

"MY DEAR FATHER,--Before you receive this, I shall have

committed an act which will plunge you and every one of our

family into the greatest distress; but I have been compelled to

it by dire necessity. I could not conquer my passion for Captain

Orme, and am therefore now his wife. Had I not consented, my

life would have fallen a sacrifice to my feelings; and as I am

not prepared to die, I judged it prudent to perpetuate a life,

with some chance for happiness, rather than lose it, with a

certain prospect of misery. I hope you and my dear mother will

forgive me; and if you cannot suffer me to visit you, I hope

you will pray for me. My present home is at the Colonel's, and

though I do not expect to find it such a one as that which I

have left, yet I trust it will not be without its comforts. With

every affectionate regard to you, my dear Mamma, and sisters,

and brothers, I am your undutiful, yet much attached,

"EMMA."

A SEQUEL TO THE FOREGOING.

The distress into which the Holmes' family were plunged, on

hearing the contents of the letter just referred to, exceeds all

description; and though, during the first ebullition of their grief,

they gave utterance to heavy censures and bitter reproaches, yet, on

cooler reflection, they felt more disposed to pity than blame the

poor deluded Emma. "A deceived heart," said her father, "hath led

her astray, and she needs not the vial of our displeasure to fill up

the bitter cup which she has to drink. We, as a family, have had,"

he continued, "a larger proportion of happiness for a long series of

years than has fallen to the lot of most; and if, in the decline of

life, it should please an all-wise Providence to cast over us the

clouds of sorrow, we must not repine, but rather bow in submission

to his righteous will, and pray for wisdom and for grace, to guide

and support us, when walking through the darkness by which we are

now surrounded."

"But," said Mrs. Holmes, "this is an evil which I did not expect.

I thought she had too much regard for her own honour, and too

much respect for our feelings, to steal away from us in such a

clandestine manner, as though her home were a prison, and her

parents tyrants. She deserves all she may suffer; and if she has not

become as callous as a rock, must endure a martyrdom of anguish."

"Yes, my dear, but she is still our child; and though she has torn

herself away from us, we must not abandon her."

"Abandon her! no, impossible! I can never forget that I gave her

birth; that I watched over her in infancy and childhood; and that

she was the pride of my heart in my old age. It is the strength of

my affection that gives me such intense pain when I think of her

ungrateful conduct."

Her clothes, &c., were carefully packed up, and sent to Colonel

Orme's, according to her own request, accompanied by the following

letter, which inclosed a draft on her father's banker for £50:--

"MY DEAR EMMA,--I shall not attempt to describe our

consternation when on returning home we received your letter,

which informed us of the step you have taken. To reproach you,

now the deed is done, will not repair the evil, nor will it

afford any alleviation to our distress. We hope you may be

happy, and may meet that kindness from your new connections,

which you, no doubt, have anticipated; but which we do not

expect. I have inclosed a draft for your _own use_, as a token

of my affection, and assure you that you will always meet with a

welcome reception at the Elms, when you choose to visit us; but

you must come alone. As you are now an inmate in a family which

makes no profession of religion, I fear you will be exposed to

temptations, which will efface every devout impression you have

received; and you may be induced to treat with indifference, if

not with contempt, the faith in which you have been educated.

Remember, my dear child, that the fashion of this world is

passing away, and that in a few years you will have to stand

before the judgment seat of Christ, and if, in that solemn and

awful moment, you should be separated from us, by the impassable

gulf, with what feelings will you await your sentence! We will

pray for you; but our prayers will be useless unless _you_

likewise pray, and repent, and believe the gospel.--I remain

your affectionate father,

H. HOLMES."

Her husband took this draft to the bank and got it cashed, but he

kept the money; and when his wife ventured to ask him for it, he

requested her to apply to her father for more. This she refused to

do, which drew from him the first unkind expression she had heard

him utter. As the news of his marriage spread abroad, his creditors

became very clamorous for the settlement of their accounts; and

though by dexterous manoeuvring, he contrived to keep them from

adopting any violent measures, yet he felt conscious that the

crisis was fast approaching, unless Mr. Holmes could be persuaded

to assist him. He made a contrite apology to his wife for the

unguarded language he had used--pledged his honour never more to

wound her feelings--and assured her that nothing but dire necessity

had induced him to appropriate the money to his own use, which was

designed exclusively for hers. She accepted the apology, but felt

startled by his allusion to pecuniary embarrassment, though she felt

the subject to be too delicate to notice.

Her husband's family treated her with the utmost degree of respect

and affection, and every one strove to promote her happiness.

Captain Orme was unremitting in his attentions, studied her

gratification in all his arrangements, and conducted himself with

so much propriety, that she flattered herself with the prospect

of enjoying a large portion of conjugal felicity. Six months had

now passed away without any fresh interruption to her happiness,

when she began to perceive a fixed gloom on the countenance of her

husband, who absented himself more frequently, and for a longer

space of time than he had been accustomed to do; and she heard some

ambiguous expressions from her father and mother-in-law, which she

knew not how to explain; nor would her high spirit suffer her to ask

an explanation. At length, one day the Colonel informed her that

some application must be made to her father for a settlement, as his

son's pay was not equal to the expenses of the family which he was

now likely to have.

"Captain Orme informed me, Sir, when he solicited me to leave my

father's house to become his wife, and you assured me that his

statement was correct, that his fortune was large, and that it was

quite immaterial to him whether my father gave me a fortune or left

me penniless."

"I deny it, Madam, and now tell you that your husband is in

embarrassed circumstances, and it is useless to conceal the fact any

longer. Something must be done, or you are both ruined."

"No gentleman, Sir, ever ventured to suspect the truth of my

testimony, and I am sorry that I ever gave you an opportunity to do

it."

"Well, well, I beg your pardon for the abruptness of my reply.

Perhaps I did say that his statement was correct; but to be frank,

he is in difficulties, and we must endeavour to get him out as well

as we can; and no one has so much at stake in this business as

yourself."

"If his difficulties have come upon him since our marriage I will

submit to any privation, and will take upon myself any task to

extricate him; but if they existed before, I do not know that it is

in my power to forgive an act of deception so cruel and unjust as

that which you have all practised upon me."

"You talk," said the Colonel, "like one who lived before the fall,

in a state of paradisiacal innocence, rather than like one who has

seen the world as it is. The world is governed by deception; in

church, in state, in all the departments of social life; and if you

have been deceived by any statements which might have been given to

allure you to the altar, we have all been deceived since your return

from it."

"Not by me, Sir."

"No, Madam, but by your father."

"My father! no! impossible! As he is too humane to reproach, he is

too sincere to deceive."

"Why, we all expected, when the marriage was over, that he would

provide handsomely for you."

"I have no doubt that he will, ultimately, but I never gave you any

reason to expect it."

"But we _did_ expect it, and I think we have a _right_ to expect it.

Can he suppose that my son is to meet all the expenses which you and

your family may bring upon him, without receiving some assistance!

If he do, he is deceived, and will entail on you and himself

disgrace and misery."

"But you know, Colonel," said Mrs. Orme, "it is no use to wound the

feelings of dear Emma so much. If Charles is in trouble, I know she

will do what she can to assist him, without being very particular

respecting the cause of his difficulties; and I would propose,

without any farther remarks on this very painful question, that she

write to her father on the subject, or give her consent for you to

write."

"What are his difficulties?" inquired Emma.

"O dear, only a small account which he is obliged to pay

immediately."

"And cannot he pay a small account?"

"Why, my dear, he has had to settle several lately, which has taken

from him all his ready money."

"How much is this small account?"

"O, only about £200."

"And do you consider this a trifling sum to owe one tradesman?"

"Certainly, my dear, for a gentleman of his profession."

"Well," said Emma, "I will have some conversation with Charles on

the subject when he returns; and we will decide on the adoption of

some plan."

"Why, my dear, I am sorry to inform you, that he is at present

detained by the formalities of the law."

"Detained by the formalities of the law! I do not understand you."

"Perhaps not; but he cannot return home till the money is paid or

some security is given that it shall be paid."

"Then, where is he?"

"Why, my dear, it will afford you no pleasure if I tell you. You had

better not press the question."

"But I must press the question; and I must request to know where he

is."

"Well, my dear, since you must have it, the gentleman who waited

on him for the payment of the money, has very kindly given him

permission to stay in his house till it is paid."

"What! is he in prison?"

"No, not exactly in prison; only the formalities of the law require

that he should remain with the gentleman till the money is paid."

"Can I see him?"

"Why, you had better not. You had better write to your father on the

business, or let the Colonel write."

"Then let the Colonel write, for I can never consent to tell such a

tale to my father, after having treated his remonstrances with so

much contempt; and violating my most solemn pledge, that I would

never suffer myself to be beguiled again from the path of duty."

The Colonel wrote to Mr. Holmes, requesting that he would give his

daughter some portion of her fortune; delicately hinting at the

temporary embarrassments of her husband; soliciting, at the same

time, the honour of an interview, when he had no doubt, but some

expedient could be devised to bring about a friendly reconciliation,

by which the happiness of both families might be placed on a

substantial basis. To this letter Mr. Holmes replied, that he felt

it his duty to make every provision in his power for the personal

comfort of his daughter; but no circumstances should induce him to

pay the enormous debts which he knew her husband had contracted by

a course of extravagant profligacy; and while he was willing to

admit her under his roof, it was not his intention ever to form the

most distant intimacy with a family who had acted with such cruel

duplicity towards his child, and sacrificed her happiness for life.

On the receipt of this letter, the Ormes were thrown into the

greatest degree of perplexity; and though they did not read it to

Emma, because it contained some severe reflections on their conduct,

yet they judged it expedient to inform her, that Mr. Holmes refused

to comply with their request. "You must now, my dear, apply for some

cash," said Mrs. Orme, "as you will soon want many conveniences,

which it will not be in Charles's power to procure, and I would

advise you to press for a generous remittance." This application,

however, was rendered unnecessary, as a few days afterwards, she

received a letter from her father, inclosing a draft for £30 for her

own use, and informing her, that if she preferred being confined at

the Elms, everything was ready for her reception.

She now began to see the extreme delicacy of her situation, and to

feel the direful consequences of her own imprudence; but she had no

friend in whom she could confide or who could sympathize with her

misfortunes. Her mind was in a state of perpetual anxiety, often

deeply wounded by the neglect, or unkind looks and expressions of

those who once professed the utmost degree of affection--with the

near prospect, too, of becoming a mother, without a home, or any

provision for herself or child, except by returning to her father's

house--a step which she contemplated at present with extreme

reluctance.

After an absence of several days, Captain Orme returned home in

high spirits, informing his wife that he had had an interview with

her father, who very generously forgave him, and drew a check on

his banker for £300. "Now," said the Captain, "I'll give you a

proof of my honour. I'll take you to the bank, you shall receive

the cash, and pay yourself the £50, which necessity compelled me to

appropriate to my own use."

"No, Charles," replied his wife, "if my father has forgiven you, so

will I; and still indulge the hope, that our union, which has been

embittered with grief, may yet prove a source of mutual felicity. I

request that no further allusion be made to the money."

"Indeed, I cannot be happy unless you allow me to redeem my honour,

which stands pledged to you for it. You must consent to take it,

and I'll accompany you to the bank. You will wound me if you make

another objection."

She entertained no doubt of the truth of his statement; and they

accordingly drove to town together the following morning. Just as

they were going into the bank, he said, "There's a friend whom I

have been anxious to see some months; you will step in and get the

cash, and after I have seen him, I will return and meet you."

As she was well known to one of the partners in the banking firm,

who had often visited at the Elms, the check was honoured without

much inspection; and having the money, she gave her husband £250,

and then begged his acceptance of the £50, as an expression of

her attachment. With this sum he paid the debt for which he was

arrested; and prevented another arrest which he had been daily

expecting.

Things now wore a brighter aspect, and the unsuspecting Emma was

induced to decline accepting her father's offer; choosing to be

confined at the Colonel's, where she could enjoy the society of

her husband, without giving any trouble to the members of her own

family. Though often pressed to pay a visit to the Elms, she had

always deferred doing so; but she now proposed a visit to express

the pleasure she felt in prospect of a reconciliation between the

two families. On mentioning this, however, to her husband, he urged

her not to do it till after her confinement, saying, "The heir will

be our advocate, and heal the breach." The eventful time drew near,

and everything necessary for the occasion had been sent, with a

pressing invitation to spend a few weeks at home, as soon as she was

capable of doing so.

"I am happy to inform you," said her husband, a few weeks after the

occurrences above narrated, "that I have had another interview with

your father; after expressing his good wishes for your welfare,

and requesting that I would accompany you to the Elms after your

convalescence, he very generously said, that as our expenses

just now must be very heavy, and he wished you to have the best

professional advice, and every comfort that money could procure, he

would beg my acceptance of this check for £400. Now, my dear Emma,

we will go to town in the morning, and you shall get the cash, and

do what you like with it." This was accordingly done in the course

of the following day.

At night the family retired to rest as usual; but about midnight

they were disturbed, and ere day-break the birth of a fine boy

was announced. The news was immediately despatched to the Elms,

with a particular request from Mrs. Charles Orme, that her sister

Louisa would come to see her. The interview was interesting and

affecting; for though the two sisters bore no resemblance to each

other in taste or in disposition, yet their attachment was mutual;

and increased on this occasion by the influence of misfortune and

sorrow. Miss Holmes remained at Redhill nearly three weeks; and on

her return, when detailing the incidents of her visit, she referred

to her father's generosity to Captain Orme.

"Indeed, my dear," said Mr. Holmes, "I have done nothing which has

not been previously agreed upon by us."

"Why, father, it is very good in you to speak so of your generosity

to Captain Orme. We were rather surprised, however, at your not even

mentioning to us that you had seen him."

"I have not seen Captain Orme since the day of his marriage, and I

am at a loss to conceive to what acts of generosity you refer."

"Not seen him, Papa! why, have you not given him two drafts on your

banker, for a considerable amount?"

"I never did anything of the kind! You must be dreaming, Louisa."

"Emma informed me that you had; and that she went, at her husband's

urgent request, and got them cashed."

"Then he has forged my check; and again imposed on the credulity of

our dear child."

He immediately rode off to his banker's, and found forged checks

to the amount of £700. This discovery involved the family in great

distress; but they resolved not to take any steps in the business

till they had seen Emma, which they expected to do in the course

of a few days. On the morning she left for the Elms, Captain

Orme requested that she would make no allusion to her father's

generosity, as he did not wish it to be known. As she had already,

however, mentioned the circumstance to Louisa, the request came too

late, and Mr. Holmes, as above-mentioned, had now become aware of

the villainy of his son-in-law. His resolve to question Emma on the

subject, after her arrival, was abandoned, on witnessing the joy

which she displayed on again meeting with her parents and sisters.

The family all agreed that it would be cruelty to broach the matter

at present, and that it had better be deferred to some more fitting

opportunity.

Mrs. Orme had been at home a month, and was preparing to return to

Redhill, when her father took an opportunity of asking her who it

was she saw at the bank, how often she had been there, what sums of

money she had received, and what circumstances induced her to go.

To all these questions she replied in very direct terms, and when

she had finished, expressed her gratitude to her father for his

kindness, and hoped that now he would consent to be reconciled to

her husband.

"Your husband, my child, has been pursuing one uniform plan of

deception, from the time he first saw you to the present hour; and

though this last instance of his duplicity is not the most fatal to

your happiness, it is certainly the most hazardous for his own. I

gave him no drafts, nor have I seen him since your marriage."

"Not seen him, father!"

"No."

"Nor given him any checks!"

"Never."

"How in the world did he get them then?"

"He has forged my name, Emma, and made you the innocent agent in his

villainy."

"And is it possible! Am I the wife of such a man!"

"Such a man is your husband; and if the law now take its course, he

will be liable to transportation for life."

"O! father, spare Charles. Have mercy on your poor Emma; though he

were the most wicked man alive, he is still my husband."

"I shall refrain from prosecuting him; but it will be necessary to

put a stop to such a system of fraud."

"O! my father, what will now become of me and my babe!"

"You have left your home once, my child, without my consent, but I

hope you will not leave it again."

"Never, father! if you will permit me to remain, though I fear my

presence will be a source of perpetual anxiety."

Mr. Holmes, after deliberating on the matter, sent the following

letter to Captain Orme, unsealed, in an envelope, addressed to the

Colonel:--

"SIR,--I have seen the forged checks which you got cashed at my

banker's; and on inquiry find that you induced my daughter to

present them, by telling her that I had given them to you, as

a token of my reconciliation. I presume you are aware of the

consequences to which you have subjected yourself; though you

may suppose that a regard for my daughter's feelings, and the

reputation of her child, will induce me to forego a prosecution.

I have, however, to warn you against the repetition of such

a base and hazardous course, for there are bounds which the

tenderest humanity will not suffer to be passed with impunity. I

should hope, for the honour of your father's character, that he

was ignorant of the crime which you have committed; but I fear

you are not the only person that is involved in the guilt of its

commission."

To this letter he received the following reply the next day:--

"SIR,--You say you have detected my fraud, and express your fear

that I am not the only person that is involved in the guilt of

it. Very true, Sir. Your own daughter suggested to me this mode

of getting at some portion of her fortune--procured the blank

checks--and went herself and got them cashed; and now you are at

liberty to let the law take its course, if you please. She is

unfortunately my wife; and as she is once more under your roof,

I hope she will remain there till I send for her, which will not

be till you are induced to give her a fortune equal to my rank,

as I was fully entitled to expect on marrying her. My father,

who feels too indignant at your base insinuation to reply to it,

begs me to say, that he does not choose to admit your daughter

into his house again. You will, therefore, permit me to return

your own compliment, by saying, that all intimacy between our

families has ceased, and you may be assured, that I regret that

any intimacy was ever formed.--Your obedient servant,

"CHARLES ORME."

This letter confirmed the suspicions which had been, for a long

time, excited in the breast of Mrs. Charles Orme; and though the

open avowal of her husband's baseness produced a painful impression,

yet it decided the course which necessity compelled her to adopt;

and she could not forbear sending him the subjoined letter:--

The Sheepfold and the Common; Or, Within and Without. Vol. 2 (of 2) · 第 32 / 50 段