CHAPTER XIV

Charles, in due time, was sent to College, and while attending the

classes, formed an intimate friendship with a youth of his own age,

of the name of Colin Fatherlans, the only son of Fatherlans of that

Ilk. He was at this time about eighteen, and being invited by his

companion to spend a few weeks at Fatherlans House in Ayrshire, he had

soon occasion to feel the influence of his grandmother’s lectures on

affection and fidelity.

Colin had an only sister, and Charles, from the first moment that he

saw her, felt the fascinations of her extraordinary beauty, and the

charms of a mind, still more lovely in its intelligence than the bloom

and graces of her form. Isabella Fatherlans was tall and elegant,

but withal so gentle, that she seemed, as it were, ever in need of

protection; and the feeling which this diffidence of nature universally

inspired, converted the homage of her admirers into a sentiment of

tenderness, which, in the impassioned bosom of Charles Walkinshaw, was

speedily warmed into love.

For several successive years, he had the gratification of spending

some weeks in the company of Isabella; and the free intercourse

permitted between them soon led to the disclosure of a mutual passion.

No doubt at that time clouded the sunshine that shone along the hopes

and promises in the vista of their future years. Every thing, on the

contrary, was propitious. His lineage and prospects rendered him

acceptable to her parents, and she was viewed by his father as a match

almost beyond expectation desirable. Time alone seemed to be the only

adversary to their affection; but with him Fortune was in league, and

the course of true love never long runs smooth.

The father of Isabella was one of those unfortunate lairds who embarked

in the Mississippian project of the Ayr Bank, the inevitable fate of

which, at the very moment when the hopes of the lovers were as gay as

the apple boughs with blossoms in the first fine mornings of spring,

came like a nipping frost, and blighted their happiness for ever.

Fatherlans was ruined, and his ruin was a sufficient reason, with the

inflexible Claud, to command Charles to renounce all thoughts of that

fond connexion which he had himself considered as the most enviable

which his son could hope to obtain. But the altered fortunes of

Isabella only served to endear her more and more to her lover; and the

interdict of his father was felt as a profane interference with that

hallowed enthusiasm of mingled love and sorrow with which his breast

was at the moment filled.

‘It is impossible,’ said he; ‘and even were it in my power to submit

to the sacrifice you require, honour, and every sentiment that makes

life worthy, would forbid me. No, sir; I feel that Isabella and I are

one; Heaven has made us so, and no human interposition can separate

minds which God and Nature have so truly united. The very reason that

you urge against the continuance of my attachment, is the strongest

argument to make me cherish it with greater devotion than ever. You

tell me she is poor, and must be penniless. Is not that, sir, telling

me that she has claims upon my compassion as well as on my love? You

say her father must be driven to the door. Gracious Heaven! and in such

a time shall I shun Isabella? A common stranger, one that I had never

before known, would, in such adversity and distress, be entitled to

any asylum I could offer; but Isabella--in the storm that has unroofed

her father’s house--shall she not claim that shelter which, by so many

vows, I have sworn to extend over her through life?’

‘Weel, weel, Charlie,’ replied the old man, ‘rant awa, and tak thy

tocherless bargain to thee, and see what thou’ll mak o’t. But mind my

words--when Poverty comes in at the door, Love jumps out at the window.’

‘It is true,’ said the lover, a little more calmly, ‘that we cannot

hope to live in such circumstances as I had so often reason to expect;

but still, you will not refuse to take me into partnership, which, in

the better days of her father, you so often promised?’

‘We’ll hae twa words about that,’ replied the father; ‘it’s ae thing

to take in a partner young, clever, and sharp, and another to take a

needful man with the prospect o’ a family. But, Charlie, I’ll no draw

back in my word to you, if ye’ll just put off for a year or twa this

calf-love connexion. Maybe by and by ye’ll think better o’ my counsel;

at ony rate, something for a sair foot may be gathered in the meantime;

and neither you nor Bell Fatherlans are sae auld but ye can afford to

bide a while.’

This was said in the old man’s most reflective and sedate manner, and

after some further conversation, Charles did consent to postpone for

that time his marriage, on condition of being immediately admitted

into partnership, with an understanding, that he should be free to

marry at the end of twelve months, if he still continued so inclined.

Both parties in this arrangement calculated without their host. The

father thought that the necessary change in the exterior circumstances

of Isabella would, in the course of the year, have a tendency to

abate the ardour of her lover, and the son gave too much credit to

his own self-denial, supposing, that, although the ruin of Fatherlans

was declared, yet, as in similar cases, twelve months would probably

elapse before the sequestration and sale of his estate would finally

reduce the condition of his family. From the moment, however, that

the affairs of the banking company were found irretrievable, Mr.

Fatherlans zealously bestirred himself to place his daughter above the

hazards of want, even while he entertained the hope that it might not

be necessary. He carried her with him to Glasgow, and, before calling

at Claud’s shop, secured for her an asylum in the house of Miss Mally

Trimmings, a celebrated mantua-maker of that time. When he afterwards

waited on the inexorable pedlar, and communicated the circumstance,

the latter, with unfeigned pleasure, commended the prudence of the

measure, for he anticipated that the pride of his son would recoil at

the idea of connecting himself with Isabella in her altered state. What

the lover himself felt on hearing the news, we shall not attempt to

describe, nor shall we so far intrude beyond the veil which should ever

be drawn over the anxieties and the sorrows of young affection, under

darkened prospects, as to relate what passed between the lovers when

they next met. The resolution, however, with which they both separated,

was worthy of the purity of their mutual affections, and they agreed to

pass the probationary year in a cheerful submission to their lot.

The Entail; or, The Lairds of Grippy · 第 14 / 102 章