LETTER LXXI.
_From Mr. Serge to Mrs. Heartley._
(_Enclosed in the preceding._)
MADAM, _Putney_.
I make no doubt, but that you have heard Mr. Maclairn mention his friend
Jeremiah Serge; and that you are convinced, I mean to deserve my title.
I shall, therefore, enter into the business before us at once. Herewith
you will receive the deeds, which secure to your daughter and her
children the estate called the Wenland Farm, now occupied by Malcolm
Maclairn; the day she becomes that gentleman’s wife, he is her tenant
and his children’s steward. Counsellor Steadman has managed this affair
for me, to my entire satisfaction, and I trust it will not be less so to
my young friend.
I have, for the first time, during many long weeks, felt that the
Almighty has yet the means in his hands with which to heal my wounds. I
never, Mrs. Heartley, had a son; I have not, like Sir Murdoch, had a son
like his Malcolm, to follow me in my feeble steps, with duty and
affection; nor try to perpetuate my name, and his own virtues to
children unborn; but I had a child, who was, whilst she lived, the joy
and the prop of my life! But you know what I have had to suffer! I am
forgetting the object of this letter.
From the first hour I knew Mr. Malcolm Maclairn, I took a liking to him;
this goodwill was, in part, owing to the favourable character I had of
him from my excellent friend, Counsellor Steadman. Some particulars I
learned from this gentleman, led me to think that it was in my power to
serve this worthy young man; and with this intention, and _other
thoughts_ in my mind, I paid my visit to Farefield Hall. I was in part
disappointed in my scheme; but I saw the young man was _all_, and
_more_, than I expected, and I gave him my heart, though I could not
give him my daughter’s hand. I thought I had explained myself to his
good father, in regard to my views in assisting the son; but I
perceived, that Sir Murdoch had a little of the infirmity, which is
common to men of high birth; so I consulted the counsellor, and did what
I could without offending the baronet’s high spirit.
Believing that you are a very judicious lady, I request from you the
favour, in case you should see the good baronet’s scruples, to say what,
in truth, you may affirm, that you perceive nothing in my conduct, that
ought either to offend, or surprise him.
Some men, with less wealth than I possess, keep fine houses, fine
madams, and fine horses; buy fine pictures, and plant fine gardens. Now,
Mrs. Heartley, I have no taste nor pleasure in these things; seeing I
was not brought up to like, or understand them; but this is no reason
why my money should be useless to me, and if I can purchase, by my
superfluity, the happiness of having such a friend as Malcolm Maclairn,
I should be a fool not to have done what I have done. So, heartily
wishing the young couple happy, and recommending to your fair daughter
to marry her tenant directly,
I remain, your sincere,
JEREMIAH SERGE.
LETTER LXXII.
_From Miss Cowley to Miss Hardcastle._
_January 12._
My patience is recompensed. “I may write half an hour, seeing that
scribbling is the aliment some girls live upon.” This is my kind doctor,
Lucy; and if you had seen how grateful I was for this indulgence, you
would be of Mrs. Heartley’s opinion, who has pronounced my fever _good
for something_; for that it has saved Lady Maclairn’s life; and, as you
may perceive, has taught me to submit. Blessed be God for the renewal of
that life, which is so dear to my friends! and which I may, if it be not
my fault, still render a blessing to them and myself.
We are once more in sight of the harbour of peace; not indeed of that
peace which “this world can neither give nor take away,” but of that
season of tranquillity, which, in mercy, is allotted to man, in order,
as it should seem, to give us time to refit our feeble bark, and to
rectify the chart, to which we have hitherto trusted; to recover by
repose, strength and vigour for the storms and perils we may yet have to
encounter in our passage to eternity; and to leave behind us traces of
that providential power which hath piloted us home.
You will like to have the particulars of Miss Flint’s will. It will
satisfy you, as it has done me, that a death-bed repentance is _much
better than none_. She specifies, that, in consideration of her brother
Oliver’s donation to Philip Flint, it appears to be an incumbent duty on
her part, to provide for those of her family, who have been _too long
neglected_, and to the last moment of her mortal life, will she bless
Philip Flint, for having seconded her in this act of justice, by his
advice and concurrence.
The Farefield estate, with the moveables, besides a considerable sum in
money, which will devolve on him as residuary legatee, are left to
Captain Flint for his life; at his decease they go to Philip Flint, to
whom she has only bequeathed five thousand pounds “as a token of her
love.” To her niece Mary the same sum, payable when she is of age, and
five _more_ at her uncle’s decease. To Malcolm Maclairn two thousand
pounds, “as a _mark_ of her esteem for him, and gratitude to his
mother.” By the way, poor Malcolm was nearly overpowered by this _mark_,
for he had not mourned as one who needed comfort; and I suspect that his
conscience was not quite prepared for the legacy.
To the poor of the parish she has left a liberal peace offering: to her
servants she has been generous and just: to Warner, her woman, she
leaves a thousand pounds.
Flamall’s execrable name does not appear in any paper that is left; and
yet the contents of the cabinet left to Lady Maclairn’s inspection,
clearly prove that Miss Flint had long been engaged by the thoughts of
death. Not a _friend_ has been overlooked but Flamall, and it is evident
to me, that she ceased to regard him even in that point of view, from
the time he declared his marriage. I suspect she was informed of his
baseness in that business. All her little donations were marked and
ticketed by her own hand. To Sir Murdoch she leaves a very fine seal;
its antiquity as well as beauty, make it valuable. To Mrs. Allen a gold
snuff box, containing an hundred pound bank note, “for mourning;” for
Miss Cowley a diamond ring. To each of Douglass’s boys a hundred guineas
for books, and three hundred pounds in notes, for their worthy father. A
small box, directed “to my niece, Mary Howard, as a token of my too late
repentance and unfeigned love.” The captain, who was present when her
ladyship performed this painful office, was so much affected by the
sight of this box, that he burst into tears, and, with extreme
agitation, tore off the address, and put it in his bosom. Philip Flint
had not been overlooked in this partition of kindness. Her picture in
miniature, taken at the time he was born, with a rich string of pearls
that had been her mother’s, were marked for him and his wife. We have
since examined Mary’s gift. Some fine lace, and a few family jewels are
the principal things. When you have cautiously informed her, that, from
her aunt’s hand, she has restored to her what she will judge to be
_invaluable_, namely, her father’s and mother’s pictures, so long lost!
so deeply regretted! But I am called to order; and you will be contented
with this four day’s labour of your poor shackled Rachel Cowley; who is
bound, though in silken fetters. You know that the Heartleys are here. I
gain nothing by that; for they are as bad as any of my arguseyed nurses.
P. S. My dear Miss Hardcastle, we have now only to fear that our patient
should be _too soon_ well. She has no fever, but that which arises from
her exertions. She cannot _vegetate_, to use her own word; and she
thinks her body is strong, because her mind is never idle. It is in vain
that we oppose her. She will write; and then who can wonder that she
does not sleep! Use your influence, and give us time to recruit her
strength.
Yours,
A. HEARTLEY.
Mrs. Allen is in good spirits. She has left me nothing to say in regard
to Doctor Douglass. But, I verily believe, his care saved the life of
our precious friend. She was, indeed, for some hours, so ill as to leave
little for hope. I leave Alice to express, to my dear Mary, all that my
full heart feels on her account.