THE RICH AND THE POOR.
"We have had such a delightful excursion, mamma. Ellen, how I do wish
you could have been with us!" joyously exclaimed Emmeline, as she ran
into the usual sitting room, one of those lovely afternoons, that the
first days of March so often bring, promising spring long before she
really comes. "It is such a picturesque cottage, and Dame Collins, and
Susan, and a host of little ones, look so nice, and so clean, and so
pretty, and happy; it does one's heart good to look at them."
"Are you sure you can not find another adjective to apply to them, Emmy?
You have heaped so many together, that it is a pity you can not find a
few more."
"But they really do look so comfortable, and are so grateful for all you
and papa have done for them: Emmeline's description for once, is not too
flowing," rejoined the quieter Caroline, who had followed her sister
into the room.
"And were they pleased with your visit?" asked Ellen.
"Oh, delighted! particularly at our making their pretty little parlor
our dining-room, and remaining so long with them, that they could show
us all their comforts and conveniences, without any bustle."
"Mrs. Collins is really a sensible woman. Do you not think so, mamma?"
inquired Caroline.
"Yes, my dear. She has brought up her own large family and her poor
orphan grandchildren so admirably, in the midst of their extreme
poverty, and bears such a name for kindness among her still poorer
neighbors, that I truly respect and admire her. She is quite one of
those in whom I have often told you some of the very loftiest virtues
are to be found; and yet to see her, as she trudges about in her homely,
humble fashion, never dreaming she is doing or has done any thing
remarkable in her hard-working life, who would suspect it?"
"Only look, Ellen, how beautifully our collection will be increased,"
continued Emmeline, who just at that moment was only alive to pleasure,
not to contemplation, even of goodness, in which she much delighted, and
pouring into her cousin's lap a basket of beautiful shells and other
marine treasures. "Papa has just given us a new cabinet in time, though
he only thought of it as a place for his Feroe curiosities. To think of
his remembering our tastes even there!"
"But where did you get these from?"
"Why, the children were playing with some, which were so perfect, I
could not help admiring them, and Mrs. Collins was in a bustle of
pleasure that I liked any thing so trifling, because she could gratify
me, and she made me take all these, adding, that her good man would be
sure to look out for some more for us; for when I told her they not only
pleased me, but my poor invalid cousin, who was Edward's sister, you
should have seen how her eyes sparkled."
"Oh, you have quite won the dame's heart, Emmy!" said Miss Harcourt.
"What with talking to her, and to Susan, and playing with every one of
the children, and making them tell you all their plays and their
schooling, and then gathering you a nosegay, telling them it should
adorn your room at home!"
"And so it shall," gayly interrupted Emmeline; "I desired Robert to put
them in water directly, for they were very pretty, and I like them
better than the best bouquet from our greenhouse."
"I do not quite agree with you, Emmeline," said Caroline, smiling.
"Not you, Lina, who ever thought you would? by-the-by, I never saw you
so agreeable and natural in a poor man's cottage in my life. What were
you saying to Dame Collins? actually holding her hand, and something
very bright shining in your eye."
"Dear Emmy, do not run on so," whispered Ellen, as she noticed
Caroline's cheek crimson. Emmeline was at her side in a moment, with an
arm round her neck.
"Caroline, dear, forgive me. I did not mean to tease you; only it was
unusual, was it not?"
"I was trying to tell Mrs. Collins all I thought of her husband's share
in saving our dear father, Emmy. I forgot all of folly and pride then."
"You are very seldom proud now, dearest Lina, and I was the foolish one
not to have guessed what you were saying, with out tormenting you.
Mamma, do you know I have such an admirable plan in my head?"
"First tell mamma," interrupted Caroline, "that William Grey has chosen
to be a partner with Collins in the more extended fishing and boating
business, which papa has secured them, instead of entering into business
by himself; this has been settled since you were there, I think."
"Yes, my dear, I did not know it; but Mrs. Collins must like it, for she
regretted very much that her sons were all scattered in different
trades, and her little grandson, whose taste pointed to the sea, was not
old enough to go out with his grandfather."
"But only listen to my plan, mamma, dear! William Grey and Susan Collins
can not possibly see much of each other, without falling in love; and
they will make such an industrious, pretty couple, and papa will give
them a cottage to themselves, and I will go to their wedding!"
"Just such a plan as I should expect from your giddy brain, Emmy. But
how do you know that Grey has any desire for a wife?"
"Oh, because Edward said he could not help remarking, even in the midst
of that awful scene, how mournfully he said he would bear a hand, for he
had neither mother, sister, nor wife to pipe for him; now, if he married
Susan, he would have a very pretty wife to lament him."
"Poor Susan, I fancy she would rather not become his wife, if it be only
to mourn for him, Emmy; rather a novel reason for a marriage,
certainly."
"Oh, but mamma, dear! you know that I don't mean exactly and only that;
somebody to be interested for, and love him. No one can be happy without
that."
"Susan was telling me, mamma, how thankful she is to you, for finding
her and her sister employment, that they might be able to help the
family," rejoined Caroline. "I was quite pleased with her manner of
speaking, and she blushed so prettily when Miss Harcourt praised the
extreme neatness of her work."
"Ah, mamma, if you could but hear all they say of you!" again burst
forth Emmeline, who it seemed could not be quiet, going from one subject
to another with the same eager zest; "if you had but heard the old dame
tell her astonishment and her pride, when she saw you enter their
former miserable hut, and sitting down on an old sea-chest, invite her
to tell, and listened to all her troubles, just as if you had been her
equal, and left such comfort and such hope behind you, as had not been
theirs for many a long day. She actually cried when she spoke, and so
did I, because she spoke so of _my_ mother. Oh, mother, darling, how
proud your children ought to be, to belong to one so beloved, so revered
by the poor and the rich too, as you are!"
"Flatterer!" playfully answered Mrs. Hamilton, laying her hand
caressingly on her child's mouth, as she knelt in sport before her. "I
will not bear such praise, even from you. Believe me, darling, to win
love and respect is so easy, so delightful, that there is no merit in
obtaining it. We ought only to be thankful, when granted such a station
and such influence as will permit extended usefulness and thought for
others, without wronging our own."
"Yes; but, mamma, many people do a great deal of good, but somehow or
other they are not beloved."
"Because, perhaps, in their earnest desire to accomplish a great deal of
good, they may not think quite enough of _little_ things, and of the
quick sympathy with other persons' feelings, which is the real secret of
winning love, and without which, sometimes even the greatest benefit is
not valued as it ought to be. But did you see old Collins himself?"
"He came in just before we left, and was so delighted to see papa
sitting in his ingle-nook, and only wished Edward had been there too."
"And where is your father?" asked Mrs. Hamilton. "Did he not return with
you?"
"Yes, but Edward wanted him, and they are in the library. I am quite
certain there is some conspiracy between them; these long private
interviews bode no good. I shall scold papa for being so mysterious,"
said Emmeline.
"I rather think he will return the benefit, by scolding you for being so
curious, Emmy. But here is Edward, so the interview to-day has not been
very long."
"Has papa been telling you old Collins' naval news, Ned?" And, without
waiting for an answer, she continued, "that there is a fine
seventy-four, the Sea Queen, preparing at Plymouth, to take the place of
your old ship, and send back Sir Edward Manly and the Prince William.
Now do not tell me you know this, Edward, and so disappoint me of the
rare pleasure of telling news."
"I am sorry, Emmy, but I have known it for some weeks."
"And why did you not tell us?"
"Because I did not think it would particularly interest you until I
could add other intelligence to it." He stopped, and looked alternately
at Mrs. Hamilton and Ellen, as if asking the former whether he might
proceed.
"And can you do so now, my dear Edward?" she replied understanding him
at once. "Ellen is too anxious for your advancement to expect, or wish
you always to remain with her. Have you your appointment?"
"Yes aunt. My uncle's letter to the admiralty brought an answer at last.
It came while he was out, and has been tantalizing me on the
library-table for four hours. But it is all right. As the Prince William
is returning, and I am so anxious to be still in active service, I am
permitted, though somewhat against rule, to have a berth in the Sea
Queen. I am sure it is all uncle Hamilton's representations, and I am so
thankful, so glad!"
"To leave us all, again, you unfeeling savage!" exclaimed Emmeline,
trying to laugh off the universal regret at this announcement. Ellen had
looked earnestly at her brother all the time he spoke, and then turned
her face away, and a few quiet tears trickled down her cheek. Edward's
arm was very quickly round her, and he whispered so many fond words and
earnest assurances, united with his conviction that it would still be a
whole month, perhaps more, before he should be summoned, as he had leave
to remain with his family till the Sea Queen was ready to sail, that she
rallied her spirits, and, after remaining very quiet for an hour, which
was always her custom when she had had any struggle with herself, for
the frame felt it--though neither word nor sign betrayed it--she was
enabled fully to enjoy the grand delight of the evening--Percy's and
Herbert's arrival.
Easter week was indeed one of family joy and thankfulness not only that
they were all permitted once more to be together but that the heavy
clouds of sin and suffering had rolled away from their roof, and
pleasure of the sweetest and most enduring because most domestic kind,
reigned triumphant. Percy's astonishment at Edward's growth, and the
alteration from the handsome, joyous, rosy boy, to the pale, almost
care-worn looking youth (for as long as Ellen bore such vivid traces of
all she had endured for his sake, and was, as it were, the constant
presence of his errors, Edward tried in vain to recover his former
spirits), was most amusing.
"You are all deceived," he would declare; "one of these days you will
discover you have been receiving a spurious Edward Fortescue, and that
he is as much a pretender as his namesake, Charles Edward."
"Then he is no pretender, Percy. He is as truly the son of Colonel
Fortescue, as _Prince_ Charles was the grandson of James. Now don't
begin a civil contest directly you come home; you know you and I never
do agree on historical subjects, and we never shall; you hate Mary the
great, great, great grandmother of Prince Charles, and I love her, so we
must be always at war."
"Stuart-mad, as usual, Tiny! but if that really be Edward, I wish he
would just look a boy again, I don't like the change at all; poor
fellow!" he added, to himself, "it is not much wonder."
The days passed much too quickly. Emmeline wished a dozen times that the
days would be twenty-four, instead of twelve hours long. The weather was
so genial that it added to enjoyment, and allowed Ellen the delight,
known only to such prisoners to sickness as she had been, of driving out
for an hour or two at a time, and taking gentle walks on the terrace,
and in the garden. The young men were to return on the Monday, and of
the Saturday previous, a little excursion had been planned, to which the
only drawback was that Ellen was not quite strong enough to accompany
them: it was to visit Alice Seaton, whom we mentioned in a former
chapter. Mr. Hamilton had succeeded in finding her brother a lucrative
employment with a lawyer in one of the neighboring towns, a few miles
from where she and her aunt now lived, enabling young Seaton to spend
every Sabbath with them; and Alice now kept a girls' school on her own
account, and conducted herself so well as never to want scholars. It had
been a long promise to go and see her, the drive from Oakwood being also
most beautiful; and as she and her brother were both at home and at
leisure the last day in Easter, it had been fixed upon for the visit.
Percy was reveling in the idea of driving his mother and Miss Harcourt
in a new barouche, and the rest of the party were to go on horse back.
But a dispute had arisen who should stay with Ellen and Edward insisted
upon it, it was his right; and, so they thought it was agreed.
"I wish, dear Percy you would prevail on Edward to accompany you,"
pleaded Ellen, fancying herself alone with him, not seeing Herbert, who
was reading at a distant table.
"I wish, dear Ellen, you were going with us," he answered, mimicking her
tone.
"But as I can not, make him go. It always makes him more unhappy when I
am prevented any pleasure, than it does myself; and I can not bear to
keep him by me four or five hours, when this lovely day, and the
exercise of riding, and, above all, your company, Percy, would make him,
at least for the time, almost his own merry self, again."
"Thanks for the implied compliment, cousin mine," replied Percy, with a
low bow.
"Reward me for it, and make him go."
"How can I be so ungallant, as to make him leave you alone?"
"Oh, I do not mind it, I assure you! I am well enough to amuse myself
now; I can not bear you all giving up so many pleasures as you have done
for me; I am so afraid of getting selfish."
"You selfish, Ellen? I wish you were a little more so; you are the most
patient, devoted little creature that ever took woman's form. You have
made me reproach myself enough, I can tell you, and I owe you a grudge
for doing so."
"Dear Percy, what can you mean? If you knew how hard I find it to be
patient, sometimes, you would not praise me."
"I mean that the last time I was at home, I was blind and cruel, and
added to your sufferings by my uncalled-for harshness, and never had an
opportunity till this moment, to say how grieved I was--when the truth
was known."
"Pray do not say any thing about it, dear Percy," entreated his cousin,
the tears starting to her eyes, as he kissed her warmly; "it was only
just and natural that you should have felt indignant with me, for
causing aunt Emmeline so much misery, and alloying all the enjoyment of
your holidays. I am sure you need not reproach yourself; but will you
make Edward go?"
"If it really will oblige you, Ellen; but I do not half like it." And he
was going very reluctantly, when he met Herbert.
"You need not go, Percy," he said, smiling; "my ungracious cousin would
not depute me as her messenger, but I made myself such, and so
successfully that Edward will go, Ellen."
"Dear Herbert, how can I thank you enough! he will be so much happier
with you all."
"Not with me," said Herbert, archly, "for I remain in his place."
"You!" repeated Ellen, surprised; "indeed, dear Herbert, it must not be.
I shall do very well alone."
"Ungracious still, Ellen! what if I have been looking all the morning
for some excuse to stay at home, without owning to my mother the
truth--that I do not feel to-day quite equal to riding? If your looks
were as ungracious as your words, I would run away from you into my own
room; but as they are rather more gratifying to my self-love, we will
send them all away, and enjoy our own quiet pleasures and your little
drive together, Nell."
Whatever Ellen might have said to convince him she could be happy alone,
the beaming look of pleasure on her countenance, satisfied all parties
as to the excellence of this arrangement; and happy, indeed, the day
was. Herbert seemed to understand her unexpressed feelings so fully; and
that always makes the charm of conversation, whatever its subject. We do
not require the _expression in words_ of sympathy--it is an
indescribable something that betrays its existence. Favorite
authors--and Herbert was almost surprised at Ellen's dawning taste and
judgment in literature--the delights of nature after a long confinement,
as if every flower were more sweet, every bit of landscape, or wood, or
water more beautiful, and the many holy thoughts and pure joys springing
from such feelings, were all discussed, either cosily in their
sitting-room, or in their ramble in the garden; and after Ellen's early
dinner, which Herbert shared with her as lunch, she proposed, what she
knew he would like, that her drive should be to Greville Manor, and they
might spend a full hour with their friends, and yet be back in time.
Herbert assented gladly; and the warm welcome they received, Mrs.
Greville's kind care of Ellen, and Mary's eager chat with her and
Herbert, and the number of things they seemed to find to talk about,
made the hour literally fly; but Herbert, enjoyable as it was, did not
forget his charge, and drove her back to Oakwood while the sun still
shone bright and warmly: and when the party returned, which they did
only just in time to dress for dinner, and in the wildest spirits, the
balance of pleasure at home and abroad, would certainly have been found
quite equal.
Ellen still continued quietly to lie down in her own room while the
family were at dinner, for she was then sufficiently refreshed to join
them for a few hours in the evening. Percy and Emmeline, at dinner that
day, kept up such a fire of wit and mirth, that it was somewhat
difficult for any one else to edge in a word, though Edward and Caroline
did sometimes contrive to bring a whole battery against themselves. Just
as the dessert was placed on the table, however, sounds of rural music
in the distance, advancing nearer and nearer, caused Percy to pause in
his wild sallies, and spring with Edward to the window, and their
exclamations soon compelled all the party to follow their example, and
send for Ellen to see the unexpected sight too. Banners and pennons
floated in the sunshine, and the greater part of the nautical
inhabitants of Dartmouth were marshaled in goodly array beside them,
headed by Captain Harvey and his crew, with old Collins in the midst of
them; they were all attired in the new clothing which Mr. Hamilton had
presented to them; and a fine picture Percy declared old Collins's head
would make, with his weather-beaten, honest-speaking face, the very
peculiar curls in which his really yellow hair was twisted, and the quid
of tobacco, from which, even on this grand occasion, he could not
relieve his mouth and cheek. A band of young men and girls surrounded
the first banner, which, adorned with large bunches of primroses and
violets up the staff, bore the words, "Hamilton and benevolence;" and
among them Emmeline speedily recognized William Grey and Susan Collins,
walking side by side, she looking down and smiling, and he so earnestly
talking, that she whispered to her mother with the greatest glee, that
her plan would take place after all. Then came a band of sturdy
fishermen, chums and messmates of Collins, and then a band of boys and
girls, from all Mr. Hamilton's own village schools, decked in their
holiday attire, and holding in their hands tasteful garlands of all the
spring flowers they could muster, and bearing two large banners, one
with the words, "Fortescue forever! All hail to British sailors!" and
the other a representation of the scene on the beach that eventful
night, and the sinking vessel in the distance. The workmanship was rude
indeed, but the effect so strikingly descriptive, that Mrs. Hamilton
actually shuddered as she gazed, and grasped, almost unconsciously, the
arm of her nephew as he stood by her, as if the magnitude of the danger,
both to him and her husband, had never seemed so vivid before.
The windows of the dining-room had been thrown widely open, and as the
rustic procession came in sight of those to whom their whole hearts
tendered homage, they halted; the music ceased, and cheer on cheer
resounded, till the very echoes of the old park were startled out of
their sleep, and sent the shout back again. Percy was among them in a
moment, singling out old Collins, whom he had tried repeatedly to see
since his visit home, but never found him, and grasped and shook both
his hands with the full vehemence of his character, pouring out the
first words that chose to come, which better expressed his grateful
feelings to the old man than the most studied speech. William Grey had
already received substantial proofs of his gratitude, and so he had then
only a kind nod, and a joke and look at the pretty, blushing Susan,
which said a vast deal to both, and seemed as if he quite seconded
Emmeline's plan. Mingling joyously with all, he had bluff words, after
their own hearts, for the men, smiles for the maidens, and such wild
jokes for the children, as lost them all decorum, and made them shout
aloud in their glee. Herbert seconded him quite as well as his quieter
nature would allow. Edward had hung back, even when his name was called
out lustily, as if he could not bear such homage.
"Join them, my boy; their humble pleasure will not be half complete
without you," whispered Mrs. Hamilton, earnestly, for she guessed his
thoughts. "Remember only at this moment the large amount of happiness
you have been permitted to call forth. Do not underrate a deed which all
must admire, because of some sad thoughts; rather resolve--as you can
and have resolved--that the alloy shall be burned away, and the true
metal alone remain, for my sake, to whom you have given such happiness,
dear Edward."
The cloud dispersed from brow and heart in a moment; and he was in the
midst of them, glad and buoyant almost as Percy; while the cheer which
greeted him was almost overpowering to his sister, so much humble, yet
earnest feeling did it speak.
"You really should have given us timely notice of your intentions, my
good friend," said Mr. Hamilton, warmly grasping Captain Harvey's hand.
"At least we might have provided some substantial refreshment after
your long march, as I fear we have but slender fare to offer you, though
Ellis and Morris are busy already, I am happy to see."
And urged on by their own delight at this homage both to their master
and his young preserver, who had become a complete idol among them, a
long table was speedily laid in the servants' hall, covered with a
variety of cold meats, and bread and cheese in abundance, and horns of
cider sparkling brightly beside each trencher. Fruit and cakes eagerly
sought for by Emmeline, were by her distributed largely to the children,
who remained variously grouped on the lawn, their glee at the treat
heightened by the sweet and gentle manner of its bestowal.
Captain Harvey and his mate, Mr. Hamilton entertained himself,
introducing them to his family, and especially Ellen, who, as the sister
of Edward, found herself regarded with an interest that surprised her.
Percy brought in old Collins and Grey, both of whom had expressed such a
wish to see any one so nearly belonging to the brave young sailor; and
her manner of receiving and returning their greeting, thanking them for
the help they had so efficiently given her brother, made them still
prouder and happier than before. After an hour and a half of thorough
enjoyment--for their humble homage to worth and goodness had been
received in the same spirit as it had been tendered--the procession
marshaled itself in the same order as it had come; and rude as the music
was, it sounded, as Emmeline declared, really beautiful, becoming
fainter and fainter in the distance, and quite picturesque the effect of
the banners and pennons, as they gleamed in and out the woody windings
of the park, both music and procession softened in the mild, lovely
twilight of the season.