falling down on her knees, kissed the foundling's cheeks all over. In
fact, the news spread all over the manse in less than no time; and I had
my two eldest boys--then preparing for school--my eldest daughter, and
the two maid-servants, all tumbling into the parlour in a world of
amazement. My wife, however, having recovered from her first surprise
and burst of natural affection, began, very naturally, to speculate
about the parentage of the uninvited visitant. She examined its dress;
and, amongst other discoveries, found a piece of paper attached to the
body of the frock, inscribed with these words, in a plain printed
hand--"I am not what I seem. My name is Phebe." On searching a little
more particularly, a hundred-pound note was found stitched into a small
purse or bag, suspended from the infant's neck. We were all amazement.
My wife was all at once persuaded that the infant must be the offspring
of some lady of high quality, and that, by keeping her in our family, we
should be absolutely enriched by presents of hundred-pound notes every
other morning. She seemed to look upon poor Phebe as the philosopher's
stone, and thought that gold would, in future, be as plentiful in our
house as brass coinage had hitherto been. But who could be the mother of
this pretty, sweet, dear, darling, lovely child? Could it be--and she
whispered me knowingly in the ear; but I shook my head, and looked
equally knowing. Could it be Lady M----? I looked incredulity, and my
wife pushed her speculations no further. By this time my oldest daughter
had arranged Phebe's dress, and made all snug; and the poor little
infant gave audible intimation of a desire for food. What was to be
done? This question occupied us for about a quarter of an hour, when we
at last recollected that Lord C----'s gardener's wife had yesterday
buried her infant. She was immediately sent for, and, having no children
of her own, agreed, after some persuasion and the promise of a handsome
reward, to suckle poor Phebe. It was, indeed, beautifully interesting to
observe how Phebe's little hands wandered over the source of her
sustenance, and seemed to say, as plainly as hands could speak it, "I
have you now, and will not part with you again." Phebe grew--opened her
sweet blue eyes--smiled--and won all hearts in the course of a month.
But she was still a heathen, or, in other words, unbaptised; and, after
consulting the session, whom I advertised of all the circumstances, it
was agreed that the gardener's wife should take the vows, and name the
child. We all wept at the christening; there was something so unusual
and overpowering, so mysterious and exciting, in the whole transaction.
My wife suggested that she should be called "Phebe Monday," that being
the day on which she was found; but, somehow or other, I disliked the
combination of sounds exceedingly; and at last, at the suggestion of the
nurse-mother, we affixed Fortune to her Christian designation; and,
after the ceremony, which was performed in the gardener's house, we
drank a glass of ginger wine to the health and long life of little Phebe
Fortune, the foundling. Through the kindness of Lord C----, I had the
privilege of walking when I chose in his extensive gardens and
pleasure-grounds, which were in my parish, and adjoining to the manse;
and it was on one of the smooth-rolled grass walks of this garden that I
conducted little Phebe's first steps, when she put down her little foot
for the first time, and stood almost erect on the grass. Oh, how the
little doll screamed and chuckled as she tumbled over and rolled about;
ever and anon stretching out her little hand, and asking, as it were, my
assistance in aiding her inexperience and weakness. However, "_Tentando
fimus fabri_," by effort, frequently repeated, success is at last
secured; and Phebe at last flew off from me like an arrow, and, like an
arrow, too, alighted head foremost on the soft sward. Phebe won all
hearts when she began to syllable people's names. Me she called
"minny-man;" my wife, "minny-man-minny;" and her own nurse, "mother, ma,
ma, bonny ma! guid ma!" Year rolled on after year, and little Phebe was
the talk of all the country round. People passing on the highroad
stopped and spoke to her. Phebe used often to visit the manse, and to
play with my youngest daughter, only a few months younger than herself,
whilst I have often sat in my elbow chair, called in the family "Snug,"
and said to myself, "I am sure I cannot tell which of these children I
am most attached to." All the features and properties of little Phebe
were aristocratic: beautiful feet and anckles; small, little plump
hands, and finely-tapered fingers; an eye of the purest water and the
most noble expression, beaming through a curtain of deep blue, under a
canopy of the finest auburn; a brow, nose, lips, and chin, all
exquisitely formed and proportioned. No child in the neighbourhood could
be compared with Phebe. Even my wife, prejudiced as she naturally was in
favour of her own offspring, used sometimes to say--"Our Jessie looks
well enough; but that child Phebe is a pear of another tree." To this I
readily assented, as I had no inclination to hint either the identity of
the tree or the affinity of the fruit.
One day I was walking with little Phebe (who had now attained her
seventh year, and exhausted the last penny of the hundred pounds) in my
own little garden--we were quite alone, when the girl all at once
stopped her playfulness (for she was now a very lark), and, taking a
hold of my hand, pulled me gently, nothing loath, into an adjoining
little arbour: after I was seated, and Phebe had taken her wonted
station betwixt my knees, reserving either knee for future convenience,
the little angel looked up in my face so innocently and so sweetly,
saying--
"You are Jessie's pa, are not you?"
"Yes," I replied, "my dear child, I am."
"But where is my pa? have I no pa? Gardener says you know all about it."
I regretted exceedingly that anything should have passed betwixt the
foster-parents and their charge upon the subject; but, since it was so,
I judged it best at once to tell the child the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth. Phebe looked me most intently in the face as
I proceeded; and when I had finished by kissing her, and assuring her
that whilst I lived she should never want a pa, the poor dear burst into
tears, exclaiming, in an accent of complete misery--
"No pa! no ma! Everybody has pa's and ma's but Phebe. Dear, dear
minny"--a term by which she still addressed me--"can you not tell me
anything about my own ma?"
I assured her that I could not, having not the least information on the
subject.
"Maybe she's dead"--and here again her feelings overcame her, and she
laid her head on my knee, with all its luxuriant tresses; and I felt the
tears warm on my person.
From this day Phebe Fortune became a different child. Even at an
early age she had learned to think; but had been hitherto very averse to
learning, or school education. She was henceforth diligent and
attentive, making rapid progress in reading, writing, and accounts. Her
foster-mother taught her sewing; and little Phebe, by the time she was
eleven years old, was quite accomplished in all the necessary and useful
parts of a female education. But, alas! the instability of human
affairs!--poor Phebe caught a fever, which she communicated to her
foster-mother, and which occasioned _her_ death in a few weeks, whilst
Phebe slowly recovered. The gardener's heart was broken--he had long
been subject to occasional fits of low spirits. Whether from accident or
not was never fully ascertained, nor even closely investigated; but he
was found one morning drowned, in a pond of water which ornamented the
east corner of the garden ground. As my own family was numerous, and my
stipend limited, I behoved to endeavour to place Phebe in some way of
doing for herself--still hoping, however, that time ere long would
withdraw the veil, and discover the sunny side of Phebe Fortune's
history. Seldom did a carriage pass the manse by the king's highway,
that my wife did not conjecture that it might perhaps stop at the bottom
of the avenue, and emit a fine lady, with fine manners and a genteel
tongue, to claim our now highly interesting ward. But the perverse
carriages persevered in rolling rapidly along, till at last, one fine
sunny afternoon, one did actually stop, and out stepped the lady,
middle-aged, splendidly attired, and advanced towards our habitation. My
wife's heart was at her mouth--she ran through the house in a few
seconds, from bottom to top, had Phebe put into her best attire, and all
diligence served upon the dusting and cleaning of carpets and chairs.
The lady appeared; but, to my wife's great disappointment, proved to be
no other than an old pupil of my own, who, in passing, had heard of my
residence, and wished kindly to renew an acquaintance interrupted by,
perhaps, not less than thirty years. Still my wife would not give up the
notion that Phebe resembled Lady D---- exceedingly, and that Lady D----
seemed to eye her with more complacency than any of the rest of the
children. In the course of conversation, I had occasion to acknowledge
that the beautiful being whom Lady D---- admired above all the rest of
my fine family was a foundling. This led to a detail of the whole
matter; and Lady D----, having conversed for a little with Phebe, took
such a liking to the girl that she proposed having her continually about
her person, as a kind of superior waiting-maid, half menial and half
companion, and to remove her from under our roof on the instant.
Although this was an offer too good and too opportune to be negatived,
yet we could not think of parting with our darling Phebe on so short a
warning; and, after some remonstrances on both sides, it was agreed that
the carriage should be sent for Phebe and me on a future day, which was
named, and that I should spend a few days with my old pupil, in her
recently acquired and lately inhabited mansion-house of Rosehall, little
more than thirty miles distant. The interval which took place betwixt
this proposal and its accomplishment was spent in needlework and other
little feminine preparations; and, as the day approached, we all felt as
if we could have wished that we had rejected the proposal with disdain.
Phebe was often seen in tears--but she was all resignation, and rejoiced
that I was to accompany her, and see her fairly entered. At last the
dreadful carriage, with its four horses, came into view at the foot of
our avenue (which, though possessed of a sufficiently imposing
appellation, was nothing more nor less than a very bad and nearly
impassable cart road), and we all began our march to meet the vehicle.
Promises of future visits were spoken of, and made, and solemnly sworn
to--a home, house, or manse was declared to Phebe at all times; but,
particularly, should she find herself unhappy in her new position; and
it was with difficulty that I got the now truly lovely, and all but
woman, Phebe, torn from the grasp and cling of my daughters, and handed
into the splendid and richly-lined chariot.
In the family of Lady D----, Phebe's duties were at once easy and
agreeable. She waited upon her mistress's bell in the morning, and was
soon taught how to assist at the toilet. During the day, she either read
aloud, whilst her Ladyship reposed after her forenoon's walk or drive,
or looked after the health and comfort of two favourite lap-dogs. At
night, again, she renewed her closet assistance, reading aloud some
paragraph which she had marked in a newspaper, and detailing such little
domestic incidents as came within the range of her somewhat limited
sphere of observation. Lord D---- was much engaged in public business
(being lord-lieutenant of the county), and in carrying on some
agricultural speculations by which he was much engrossed. There were two
young Honourables of the fair sex, and an only son--then attending his
studies at Oxford--children of the family. Phebe Fortune was now
fifteen, and seemed to increase in loveliness, and the most kindly,
intelligent expression of countenance, daily. Her eyes were heaven's own
_blue_--
"The little halcyon's azure plume
Was never half so blue."
And then, when she spoke or smiled, her countenance was altogether
overpowering; as well might you have attempted to look steadfastly upon
the sun in his midday radiance. Of _her_ far more truly and forcibly
might it have been said or sung, than of the "Lassie wi' the Lint-white
Locks"--
"She talked, she smiled, my heart she wiled,
She charmed my soul, I wat na hoo;
But aye the stound, the deadly wound,
Cam frae her een sae bonny blue."
Phebe, by my own arrangement with Lady D----, was not exposed to any
intimacy with the servants, male or female. She had her own apartment
and table; and all the menial duties were performed to her as regularly
as to any branch of the family. It was soon after my return from a three
weeks' visit at Rosehall, that I received the following letter from
Phebe. I got it at the post-office, unknown to any of my family; and I
kept it, as was my custom when I had anything agreeable to communicate,
till after dinner. The board having been cleared, and a tumbler of warm
toddy made, my wife's single glass having been filled out, and my
daughters having turned them all ear, I proceeded to read the following
maiden epistle of Phebe Fortune:--
"Dear, dear Papa, and ever dear Mamma, and all my own Sisters
dear--I am happy here; Lady D---- is so kind to me; and Lord D----
looks very kind too, though he has not spoken to me yet--but then
you see he is always engaged; and the honourable young ladies--but
I do not think they are quite so kind; and they are so pretty too,
and so happy looking! Oh, I wish they would like me! If they would
only speak to me now and then as they pass me on the stair; but
they only stop and laugh to one another, and then they toss their
heads; and I can hear them say something about 'upsetting,' and
'mamma's whim, and papa's absurdity.' I'm sure--I'm sure, my dear
parents--(for, alas! I have none other, though I dream sometimes
that I have, and I feel so happy and delighted, that I always awake
crying)--but what was I going to say?--you know I never wrote any
letters before, and you will excuse this I know--I could not, I am
sure, speak of whim or absurdity in regard to you, my dear
benefactors. But I will try never to mind it. Lady D---- is so very
kind. I sometimes go out with the little dogs, Poodle and Clara;
they are such dear pets, I could take them, and do often take them
to my bosom. And then, the other day, when I was sitting playing
with Clara and Poodle, beneath the elm tree, the gardener's son
passed me, and--no he did not pass, that is to say not all at
once--but he stopped, and asked me to take a flower, which he had
pulled for me, which I did, and then he offered to show me through
the hot houses, but I did not go. My dear mamma, do you think I
should have gone? And then he left me; but yesterday a little boy
gave me the following letter. And all that the letter contains is
this--
"If you love me as I love thee,
What a loving couple we shall be!"
Love him!--oh, no--no--no--I will never, never walk that way
again--I will never, never speak to him more. I love you, my own
dear papa, and mamma, and my sisters, and Lady D----, and the two
little dear doggies; but I never could love Donald M'Naughton; not
but that he is good-looking, too, and young, and respected in the
family; but he never can be a father or mother to me you know, as
you have been. Oh! do write me soon, soon--and tell me all about
the garden, and the ash-tree, and the arbour, and the flowers, and
old Neptune, your favourite, and everything. I remain, most
affectionately, yours,
PHEBE FORTUNE.
"P.S.--But Fortune is not my name. Oh, that I had a name worth
writing!--such a name as Lindsay, Crawford, Hamilton, Douglas. Oh!
how beautifully Phebe Douglas would look on paper, and sound in
one's ear!"
Such was the state of Phebe's mind and feelings at that interesting
period of life when the female is in the transition from the mere girl
to the real woman; and it was about this very period, when all the
feelings are peculiarly alive to each fine impulse, that it fell to
Phebe's lot to be severely tried. Day after day, and week after week,
Lady D---- missed some valuable article of dress, some Flanders lace,
some costly trinket, a ring it might be, or a bracelet. At last Lady
D---- thought it proper to inform her lord of the fact, who, upon
obtaining a search warrant unknown to any one save his lady, had the
trunks of the whole household establishment strictly searched. Poor
Phebe's little chest, "wi' her a' int," discovered, to the amazement of
all, the whole lot of the missing articles. Lady D----looked as if she
had been suddenly struck with lightning; whilst poor Phebe regarded the
whole as a jest, a method adopted by her lady, or his lordship, to try
her character and firmness. She absolutely laughed at the denouement,
and seemed altogether unconcerned about the matter. This, to his
lordship in particular, appeared to be a confirmation of guilt; and he
immediately ordered her person to be secured, evidence of her guilt to
be made out, and a criminal trial to be instituted. When the full truth
dawned upon poor Phebe, she sat as one would do who is vainly
endeavouring to recollect something which has escaped his memory. Her
colour left her; she was pale as Parian marble; her eyes became dim, and
her ears sang; she fainted; and it was not till after great and repeated
exertion that she was recovered, through the usual painful steps, to a
perception of the outward world. She looked wildly around her. Lady
D---- was standing with her handkerchief at her eyes--she had wept
aloud.
"O Phebe," said her ladyship, "are you guilty of this?"
Phebe repeated the word "guilty" twice, looked wildly on Lady D----'s
eyes, and then, in an unsettled and alarmed manner, all round the room.
"Guilty!" she repeated--"Guilty of what? Who is guilty? It is not he. I
am sure he could not be guilty. Oh, no--no--no--he is my father, my
friend, my protector, my minny, my dear, dear minny--he could not do it!
he never did it! You are all wrong!--and my poor, poor, head, is
odd--odd--odd." Thus saying, she clasped her forehead in a frenzied
manner, and nature again came to her relief in a second pause of
insensibility, from which she only recovered to indicate that her
remaining faculties had seemingly left her. Time, however, gradually
awakened her to a perception of the sad reality; and it was from a
chamber in the castle, to which she was confined, that she wrote the
following letter to her original and kind protector:--
"OH, MY EVER DEAR FRIEND--Your Phebe is accused of--I cannot write
it, I cannot bear to look at the horrid word--of stealing. Oh, that
you had let me lie where the wickedness of an unknown parent
exposed my helplessness to the random tread of the passenger! Oh,
come and see me; I grow positively confused; your Phebe is
imprisoned in her own chamber; but my poor head is swimming
again--there--there--I see everybody whirling about on the chimney
tops--there they go--there they go! I can only see to write
PHEBE."
There was no date to this sad scrawl; but it needed none; for in
twenty-four hours after it had arrived at the manse, I had set out on my
way to Rosehall. The meeting betwixt the foster-father and the child
was, of course, exceedingly affecting. Investigations into the whole
matter were renewed, but no other way could be thought of for accounting
for the presence of the missing property in Phebe's locked trunk, than
the supposition which implied her guilt.
"I could stake my life, my salvation," said I, "on Phebe's innocence."
But Lord D---- doubted; his Lady could not have believed it possible;
but still there were, she said, similar cases on record--one, quite in
point, had just occurred in her neighbourhood, where the guilty party
had, up to the dishonest act, borne a very high character. The circuit
trial came on in about ten days, and Phebe, accompanied by the minister,
and the best legal advice, was seated at the bar on her trial. Witnesses
were examined, who swore that they saw the trunk opened, and Lady
D----'s property discovered; others, particularly the lady's maid, swore
that she all along suspected Phebe, from seeing her always shutting, and
often locking her door inside. She once looked through the key-hole, and
saw Phebe busied with her trunk; she saw something in her hand that
sparkled. Phebe had no exculpatory evidence but her simple averment that
she knew not how the articles came there--she never brought them. The
king's advocate having restricted the sentence, and the jury having
brought in unanimously a verdict of guilty, the judge was on the point
of pronouncing a sentence of banishment, when the poor pannel fainted.
It was a most affecting scene to hear the sentence of banishment
pronounced over a piece of insensate clay. All wept--even the judge; and
Phebe was carried out of court, apparently quite dead.
Next morning I was found sitting with a cheerful countenance by Phebe's
couch, in the prison-house. I had good news I said to impart to her:--
"The girl who has been the principal witness against you, has been
suddenly seized, during the night, with an excruciating and evidently
fatal disease; in the agonies of death she has confessed to me, and in
the presence of Lady D---- too, that she had sworn to a lie; that she
herself with her own hand, and by means of a false key, placed the
articles--which she had originally stolen with the view of retaining
them--in your chest. This she had done from jealousy, having observed
that her lover, the gardener's son, had fixed his affections upon you."
All this was solemnly attested in the presence of witnesses, and all
this was conveyed in a suitable manner to the judge; in consequence of
which, and through the usual preliminary steps, Phebe was set free, and
again admitted into the full confidence and the friendship of the
family.