"Well," replied Bessy, "think of me as you please; I will speak now,
Tom. I am not considering you, Tom, nor am I thinking of myself; I am
only induced so to do on account of my father. We have been brought up
together as children, Tom, and, as children, we were great friends, and,
I believe, sincerely attached to each other. I believe it to be very
true that those who are brought up together as brothers and sisters do
not change that affection for any other more serious in after life. It
is therefore not our faults if we cannot feel as, you must know, Tom, my
father wishes we should. Am I not right?"
"You are, I believe, Bessy," replied I.
"My father, therefore, is deceiving himself with the hopes of what never
can take place, but I know him even better than you do, Tom; it is the
object of his daily thoughts--his only wish before he sinks into his
grave. I cannot bear to undeceive him; no more can you, if I have truly
judged your feelings."
"You have judged right, Bessy."
"The very circumstance of our knowing his wishes, the hints which he
throws out, his joking on the subject, have been a source of annoyance
to both of us; and not only a source of annoyance, Tom, it has estranged
us--we no longer feel that affection which we should feel for each
other, that kindness as between brother and sister which might exist; on
the contrary, not being exactly aware of each other's feelings, we
avoid each other, and fearful that the least kindness might be
misconstrued, we do not really treat each as we otherwise would; in
fact, it has destroyed our mutual confidence. Is it not so?"
"It is, I acknowledge, but too true, Bessy, and I thank you for having
entered into this explanation--"
"Which, as I said before," continued Bessy, "I should not have done
except for the sake of my father; but now that I have done so" (and here
Bessy's voice became tremulous), "let us consult at once how we shall
act so as to secure his happiness, and that in future we may return to
the former confidence and regard which should exist between us as
brother and sister."
"Point out how this is to be done, Bessy, and I will cheerfully enter
into your wishes."
"We must laugh when he laughs, Tom, even if not inclined; we must gain
time--that is very easy. I may refuse as long as he lives--you may put
it off; and then, Tom, circumstances may help us--who knows what even a
day may bring forth?"
"Very true," replied I, "there's only one thing--"
"What is that?"
"Suppose I was to marry?"
"Then," replied Bessy, in a voice half choked, as she turned away, "my
father would be very unhappy."
I looked round to reply, but she had gone into the cottage. This
conversation gave me great satisfaction. I felt convinced that if I had
at one time formed the idea that Bessy was attached to me, I had been
mistaken, and I was as indifferent to her as she was to me. I was just
as anxious as she was not to vex Bramble, and equally glad that
confidence was restored between us. Alas! I must have been very blind
not to have perceived what was the true state of her feelings, but I
did not, and after some reflection I determined that I would make her a
confidante of my passion for Janet Wilson; and then I walked to the
post-office to see if there were any letters from Virginia. There was a
letter for me--a double one. As soon as I had paid the money, I opened
it; it was very closely written, and evidently Virginia had much to
communicate to me. I forgot for the moment Bessy and Bramble, thought
only of Janet, and put the letter to my lips as I walked away, that I
might go home and read it. I hurried past Bessy, who was in the parlor,
and went up the stairs into my bedroom, where I took my letter out of my
pocket and commenced it.
"15th April.
"MY DEAR TOM--I shall begin a letter to you now, and fill it up as a
sort of a diary; as it is the best plan, I think, to narrate
circumstances as they actually take place. It is unpleasant to say
anything against my mother, the more so as I believe that she thinks she
has been doing right, and has my interest sincerely at heart: she
appears to consider that an alliance with people of rank cannot be
purchased too dear, and that every attempt is justifiable to secure for
me such an advantage. Little does she know me. If she forgets, I never
shall, that I am the daughter of a Greenwich pensioner, and never would
ally myself with those whose relations would look upon me as a disgrace
to their family. No, Tom; even if I were so heedless as to allow my
affections to be enthralled, I would at any sacrifice refuse to enter
into a family much beyond my condition. I have thought of this often,
and I confess that I am sometimes unhappy. I have been brought up and
educated above my situation in life, and I do not think I ever could
marry a person who was not more refined and educated than those who are
really and truly my equals, But as, at the same time, I never will enter
into a family who might look down upon my parentage, I presume your
little Virginia must remain unmarried. If so, I am content--I have no
wish to alter my present condition. I am happy and respected; and with
the exception of the trifling annoyances which we all must expect and
must submit to, I have no reason to be dissatisfied; on the contrary, I
have to be grateful for many blessings, and I trust that I am so. My
poor mother is the cause of all my present vexations. She tells me that
my beauty, as she is partially pleased to call it, is sufficient for my
aspiring to the hand of a duke, and that it will be my own fault if I do
not make a high connection. Every night she has been overwhelming me
with alternate reproaches and entreaties to permit the attentions of the
gay gentleman who is now lodging at our house, stating that it was on my
account only that he took the apartments, and that, if I play my cards
well, he will be caught in his own trap, which, I presume, is as much as
to say that he came here with different intentions, and finding that he
cannot succeed, will secure his intended prize or victim by marriage
rather than not obtain her at all. Very flattering, truly! and this is
the man to whom my mother would induce me to confide my future
happiness--a man who, independent of his want of probity, is a fool into
the bargain. But the persecution on his part and on that of my mother
now becomes so annoying that I have requested Mrs. St. Felix to speak to
Mr. Sommerville the tutor, who, if he does his duty--and I have every
reason to believe that he will do so--will take some measures to remove
his pupil from our house.
"17th. Mrs. St. Felix and Mr. Sommerville have had a meeting. He
generally walks out every afternoon in the park; and Mrs. St. Felix and
he have already been introduced. She therefore went out and met him, and
after exchanging a few words she introduced the subject, stating that
she did so at my request. Mr. Sommerville, although he had not been
blind, had had no idea that things had proceeded so far; and he promised
Mrs. St. Felix that he would soon put an end to the persecution, or
remove him from our house. Janet has been here to-day, and I told her
what had passed; she very much approved of the steps which I had taken.
I must, however, say that latterly she has not appeared to take that
interest about you that she used to do, and I fear that your continual
absence is injurious to your prospects. She is very young and very
giddy, Tom. I wish she had been older, as, even when she is your wife,
she will require much looking after, and a firm hand to settle her down
into what a married woman in my opinion ought to be. Mr. Sommerville has
requested me to favor him with a few minutes' conversation; and as I
cannot do it in our house, for my mother never leaves me a minute to
myself, I told him that I should be at Mrs. St. Felix's this afternoon,
and he could speak to me then. He knows that I have no secrets from Mrs.
St. Felix; and although it is not pleasant to resort to such means,
still there can be no impropriety in my hearing what he has to tell me
in her presence.
"I have seen Mr. Sommerville--he thanked me very much for having
communicated, through Mrs. St. Felix, my mother's plot against his
protege, and paid me many compliments upon my behavior, which were quite
unnecessary. He told me that he had spoken to his pupil, who had most
positively denied his having any such intention, and stated that he was
merely amusing himself, and he had pledged himself not to take the least
notice of me for the future. 'I am well aware,' said he, 'that what he
has stated is not correct; he has not deceived me by his assertions; and
were it not that I feel confidence in you, Miss Virginia,' continued he,
'I would write to his father that he might be immediately removed. I
hardly need say that should anything of this kind take place, I should
be most severely blamed. It is not the first time that I have been
compelled to interfere, for my pupil is of a very susceptible
disposition, and has fancied himself in love with at least five young
people since he has been under my charge. In this instance,' continued
he, making me a bow, 'he has some extenuation to offer. Will you oblige
me by informing me if he adheres to his promise? or do you wish that I
should speak to your mother?'
"Mrs. St. Felix replied that it would be unnecessary; indeed, that if
Lord ---- left the house I should only be subject to fresh persecution.
Mr. Sommerville, at her request, stayed to drink tea, and is certainly a
very pleasant, well-informed, amiable young man.
"23d. I have received no molestation since the explanation with Mr.
Sommerville, except from my mother, who accuses me of having affronted
Lord ----; and although I deny it, she asserts that he never could have
so changed his conduct toward both of us if I had not so done. I have
not seen Janet this week--I cannot imagine what has become of her.
"24th. You may imagine my joy, my dear Tom. Mr. Sommerville has received
a letter, stating that his lordship is to go down to his father's seat
in the country, as he will be of age in a month, and he is to make
acquaintance with the tenants; there are to be great rejoicings there
upon his coming of age. I am sure no one can rejoice more than I shall
when he leaves, which is to be next Saturday. I am also very glad to say
that the Marquess has presented Mr. Sommerville with a valuable living,
now that he gives up his tutorship. I really think he will do justice to
his profession, for I have seen more of him lately, and esteem him very
much.
"27th. They are gone, much to my mother's mortification and to my
delight; and now, as I have written so much about myself, I shall leave
this letter open till I see Janet, that I may tell you something about
her, otherwise I know my letter will not be interesting to you.
"31st. My dear Tom, you must prepare yourself for painful intelligence.
"Janet has disappeared. She left her father's house last night after the
family had retired, but no one knows where. She left a few lines on her
table, stating that they would hear from her soon. Poor Mr. Wilson was
here to-day--he is half distracted--and the whole town is full of the
scandal. Mrs. St. Felix told me this morning that she has discovered
that within the last week she has been seen walking on the London Road
with Lord ----. Is it possible?
"May 2d. It is all true--Mrs. St. Felix has a letter from Mr.
Sommerville, stating that Janet was brought up to town and married to
Lord ---- two days ago. It appears that from the time that I repulsed
his attentions he fixed them upon Janet; that she encouraged him, and
used to meet him every night, as Mrs. St. Felix was informed. Mr.
Sommerville has seen his father, and fully exculpated himself; but the
Marquess declares, as his son is a minor, that the marriage shall not be
binding. How it will end Heaven only knows; but she is much to be
pitied. This will account for her not coming to me as usual. Now, Tom, I
do not suppose you will pay attention to me at present, but from what I
knew of Janet, and which her conduct has fully proved, she was not
worthy to be your wife, and could not have contributed to your
happiness. I pity you from my heart, as I know what you will feel; but
still I congratulate you, and eventually you will congratulate yourself
at your fortunate escape.
"I will say no more at present, except that I am, and ever will be,
"Your truly attached sister,
"VIRGINIA."
I had courage to finish the letter, and then it dropped from my hands. I
was bewildered, stupefied, maddened. As my sister said, I did indeed
feel. Was it possible? Janet, who had--mercy on me! I threw myself on
the bed, and there I remained till the next morning in a state most
pitiable.
It is only those who have been deceived in their first attachment who
can appreciate my agony of feeling. For the first few hours I hated the
whole world, and, had then the means been at hand, should in all
probability have hastened into another; but gradually my excitement
abated; I found relief in tears of sorrow and indignation. I arose at
daylight the next morning, worn out with contending feelings, heavy and
prostrated in mind. I went out--stood on the beach, the keen breeze
cooled my fevered cheek. For hours I leaned motionless upon an anchor,
all hope of future happiness abandoned forever.