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[Illustration: A. B. Ross, THE DEBUT
Engraved expressly for Graham's Magazine]
GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE.
VOL. XXXIII. PHILADELPHIA, DECEMBER, 1848. NO. 6.
MILDRED WARD.
OR THE DEBUT.
BY MRS. CAROLINE H. BUTLER.
[SEE ENGRAVING.]
CHAPTER I.
Archibald Dundass was a rich Jamaica planter, whose estates were
situated in one of the most delightful regions in that garden of the
West India isles. His wife, an English lady, of great personal
attractions and highly connected, died when Helen, their only child,
had just entered her thirteenth year, an age when, perhaps, a mother's
counsel and tender guidance is most required. When the news of Mrs.
Dundass's death reached her friends, they immediately wrote,
beseeching the bereaved husband to come at once to England with his
child, or if not expedient for himself to leave Jamaica, that he would
at least suffer the little Helen to come to them; and especially did
they urge the plea that thereby he would enable her to receive a more
finished education than could possibly be acquired upon the island.
This plea, to be sure, offered a strong inducement to Mr. Dundass; but
how could he school his heart to this second bereavement. Helen
possessed all her mother's traits--her dark blue eyes--her golden hair
and skin of dazzling purity--the smile that played around her dimpled
mouth--her light airy step, were all her mother's. Looking upon her
thus in her budding loveliness the Helen of his youth once more moved
before him. To yield her up he could not--and therefore Mr. Dundass
rejected the oft-repeated entreaties of his English friends. Helen
remained in Jamaica. A governess was provided, and whatever money
could secure in the way of learning was most freely expended.
Mr. Dundass possessed many noble traits of character, yet pride was a
very strong ingredient in his composition leading him not unfrequently
into errors which his sober judgment condemned. Still he was generally
beloved, especially by his slaves, to whom he was a kind, indulgent
master. Knowing himself to be one of the richest, if not _the_ richest
proprietor upon the island, it was natural he should mark out an
alliance for his daughter commensurate with the fortune her hand would
bestow. When, therefore, Helen, beaming and beautiful as the star of
evening, burst from the confinement of the school-room to dazzle all
eyes and move all hearts, what wonder that pride and ambition swelled
the heart of Mr. Dundass. But
"Love will venture in where it daur nae weel be seen;"
and, unfortunately for the realization of those ambitious dreams, a
mutual love had already sprung up between Helen and a young man
without friends or fortune, whom her father had received into favor,
and employed for some years in his counting-room.
To appeal to Mr. Dundass for his sanction to their union Ward knew
would be vain, and he therefore prevailed upon the imprudent Helen to
elope with him, assuring her that her father's anger would be but
momentary, and that his great affection triumphing over resentment,
would compel him to forgive her error, and open his arms to welcome
her return. But, unhappily, it was not so. There was no moving the
heart of Mr. Dundass to forgiveness. His anger and resentment were as
boundless as had been his love. He refused to see his child, spurned
her from his door, and to all the numerous and penitent letters she
addressed him, gave no reply. The blow was, indeed, a heavy one,
coming from one so idolized; his affections, as well as his
long-cherished pride, were crushed, and his resentment rose in
proportion.
In the meantime Ward had removed to a distant part of the island with
his young and beautiful bride, where he had obtained a situation which
promised to be lucrative. That he loved his young wife who for his
sake had renounced wealth, station, and a father's love, cannot be
doubted; but that he also held a corner of his heart for the
possessions she might inherit, is also certain. His disappointment,
therefore, at the inflexibility of Mr. Dundass was extreme, and
mingled with it a bitterness which, in a short time, displayed itself
toward his unoffending wife, and in an irritability which, ere the end
of a twelvemonth, caused his employer to dismiss him from his service.
From that time the life of poor Helen was most wretched, bitterly
reaping in tears and poverty the fruits of disobedience. From place to
place she followed her husband wherever he could obtain employ, but of
which his idle, dissolute habits soon deprived him. A constitution
naturally feeble sunk under the inroads of dissipation. Ere three
years a wife Helen became a widow. Her situation was now truly
deplorable. Without money, without friends, and thrown upon the cold
charity of the world ere yet she had reached her twentieth year. For
the sake of her innocent babe she resolved to make one more appeal to
the mercy of her father.
Over mountain ridges, through deep valleys--crossing dense forests and
treacherous rivulets--sometimes on foot, sometimes indebted to the
kindness of some chance traveler for a few miles ride, Helen at length
drew near the home of her childhood, and stole, unannounced, into the
presence of her father. The moment was propitious. Mr. Dundass had
already learned the death of his son-in-law, and the probable
destitution of his daughter. In those three years alienation from his
only child he had suffered much, and untimely old age had silvered his
temples and worn deep furrows o'er his brow. Not all his wealth, not
all the goadings of disappointed ambition, nor even the sting her
ingratitude had left, could drive her image from his heart, or check
the still small voice of conscience, which whispered that not even her
errors could excuse the harshness with which she had been repulsed.
The death of Ward seemed to unite Helen once more to him. Over her
misfortunes he shed bitter tears; and although pride still rebelled
against the yearnings of his heart, and made him resolve he would
never more admit her to his presence, yet even at the moment when she
fell fainting and exhausted at his feet, he was meditating some
measures by which he could place her and her little one above want.
Ah! pride, anger, enduring obstinacy, where are ye now? There was a
well of love in that old man's heart whose depths ye had not yet
probed. One look at the sad, care-worn face of Helen; one glance at
the innocent babe pillowed upon her breast, and that fount of love was
unsealed. The father took them to his breast and blessed them.