"And whence, unhappy youth, he cried,
The sorrow of thy breast?"--GOLDSMITH.
The raptures of this meeting surpassed description: to Oscar they were
heightened by surprise; he was unfortunately that day on guard at the
Bank--therefore could only pay them a few short and stolen visits; but
the next morning, the moment he was relieved, he came to them. Fitzalan
had given Amanda money to purchase whatever she deemed necessary for her
convenience and amusement, and Oscar attended her to the most celebrated
shops to make her purchases: having supplied herself with a pretty
fashionable assortment for her wardrobe, she procured a small collection
of books, sufficient, however, from their excellence, to form a little
library in themselves, and every requisite for drawing; nor did she
forget the little wants and vanities of Ellen; they returned about
dinner time to the hotel, where they found their father, who had been
transacting business for Lord Cherbury in different parts of the town.
We may now suppose him in the possession of happiness, blessed as he was
in the society of his children, and the certainty of a competence; but,
alas! happiness has almost ever an attendant drawback, and he now
experienced one of the most corroding kind from the alteration he
witnessed in his son. Oscar was improved in his person, but his eyes no
longer beamed with animation, and the rose upon his cheek was pale; his
cheerfulness no longer appeared spontaneous, but constrained, as if
assumed for the purpose of veiling deep and heartfelt sorrow.
Fitzalan, with all the anxiety and tenderness of a parent, delicately
expressed his wish of learning the source of his uneasiness, that by so
doing he might be better qualified to alleviate it, hinting at the same
time, in indirect terms, that if occasioned by any of the imprudences
which youth is sometimes inadvertently led into, he would readily excuse
them, from a certainty that he who repented never would again commit
them. Oscar started from the remotest hint of divulging his uneasiness:
he begged his father, however, to believe (since he had unfortunately
perceived it) that it was not derived from imprudence: he pretended to
say it was but a slight chagrin, which would soon wear away of itself
if not renewed by inquiries. Fitzalan, however, was too much affected by
the subject to drop it as readily as Oscar wished. After regarding him
for a few minutes with an attention as mournful as fixed, while they sat
round the table after dinner, he suddenly exclaimed, "Alas! my dear boy,
I fear things are worse within than you will allow." "Now, indeed,
Oscar" cried Amanda, sweetly smiling on him, anxious to relieve him from
the embarrassment these words had involved him in, and to dissipate the
deep gloom of her father's brow, "though never in the wars, I fancy you
are not quite heart whole." He answered her with affected gayety, but,
as if wishing to change the discourse, suddenly spoke of Colonel
Belgrave, who, at present, he said, was absent of the regiment; occupied
by his own feelings, he observed not the glow which mantled the cheeks
of his father and sister at that name.
"You know Mrs. Belgrave," said Amanda, endeavoring to regain her
composure. "Know her!" repeated he, with an involuntary sigh, "oh, yes!"
Then, after the pause of a few minutes, turning to his father, "I
believe I have already informed you, sir," he said, "that she is the
daughter of your brave old friend, General Honeywood, who, I assure you,
paid me no little attention on your account; his house is quite the
temple of hospitality, and she the little presiding goddess." "She is
happy, I hope," said Amanda. "Oh, surely," replied Oscar, little
thinking of the secret motive his sister had for asking such a question,
"she possesses what the world thinks necessary to constitute felicity."
Fitzalan had accounted to his son for leaving Devonshire, by saying the
air had disagreed with Amanda; he told him of the friendship of Lord
Cherbury, from which he said he trusted shortly to be able to have him
promoted. "Be assured, my dear Oscar," he cried, "most willingly would I
relinquish many of the comforts of life to attain the ability of
hastening your advancement, or adding to your happiness." "My
happiness!" Oscar mournfully repeated; tears filled his eyes; he could
no longer restrain them; and starting up, hurried to a window. Amanda
followed, unutterably affected at his emotion: "Oscar, my dear Oscar,"
said she as she flung her arms round his neck, "you distress me beyond
example." He sat down, and leaning his head on her bosom, as she stood
before him, his tears fell through her handkerchief. "Oh, heavens!"
exclaimed Fitzalan, clasping his hands together, "what a sight is this!
Oh! my children, from your felicity alone could I ever derive any; if
the hope I entertained of that felicity is disappointed, the heart which
cherished it must soon be silent." He arose and went to them: "yet,"
continued he, "amidst the anguish of this moment, I feel a ray of
pleasure at perceiving an affection so strong and tender between you; it
will be a mutual consolation and support when the feeble help and
protection I can give is finally removed; oh! then, my Oscar," he
proceeded, while he folded their united hands in his, "become the
soothing friend and guardian of this dear, this amiable, this too lovely
girl--let her not too severely feel--too bitterly mourn--the loss of an
unhappy father!"
Amanda's tears began to stream, and Oscar's for a few minutes were
increased. "Excuse me," at last he said, making an effort to exert
himself, to his father, "and be assured, to the utmost of my ability, I
will ever obey your wishes, and fulfil your expectations; I am ashamed
of the weakness I have betrayed--I will yield to it no more--forget
therefore your having seen it, or at least remember it with pain, as I
solemnly assure you, no effort on my part shall be untried to conquer it
entirely; and now let the short time we have to continue together be
devoted to cheerfulness."
Soon after this he mentioned Parker's performance in Marlborough Green,
and proposed, as it was now the hour, taking Amanda there; the proposal
was not objected to, and Ellen, who they knew would particularly delight
in such an amusement, was committed to the care of Oscar's servant, a
smart young soldier, who escorted her with much gallantry; the Green was
extremely crowded, particularly with officers, whose wandering glances
were soon attracted to Amanda, as one of the most elegant girls present.
Oscar was soon surrounded by them, and compelled, not only to gratify
their curiosity by discovering who she was, but their gallantry by
introducing them to her. Their compliments soon diverted her attention
from the exhibition, and Ellen, who sat behind her on a bench, afforded
innocent mirth by her remarks. "Pless her soul and poty too," she said,
"it was the most comical and wonderfulest sight she had ever seen in her
porn days." A string of redcoats would have attended Amanda to the hotel
had not Oscar prevented it.
The next day was devoted to visiting the public buildings, the park, and
a few of the most beautiful places in its vicinage. On the ensuing morn
Fitzalan and Amanda continued their journey to the north, where Oscar
assured them he expected leave to visit them the following summer, after
the reviews were over: as he helped his sister in the carriage she put
a pocket-book into his hand (given by her father for that purpose),
which contained something to replenish his purse.
Ere we attend the travellers, or rather while they are journeying along,
we shall endeavor to account for the dejection of Oscar.