AUNT JANE’S SAGE ADVICE.
“It is a very great advantage,” added Aunt Jane, later in the evening of
that day, “to be reminded of early youth. To think of those who loved
us, and whom we loved in days when we were comparatively innocent and
unsuspicious of evil, has generally a beneficial influence on our
character in after-life. There may be many objections to the marriage of
cousins, but he is not your first cousin, and I have generally found
that they turned out very happily--I mean among those cousins who had
been brought up together; and I attribute it chiefly to this reason,
that each helps to keep alive in the other’s mind a vivid recollection
of early days. That was why I was so glad when you told me of your talk
about your childish adventures with Carlo in the cameo boudoir that
eventful night.”
By all Aunt Jane said, I fancied that she wished I should become engaged
to Carlo; but I did not tell her this, for a strange kind of reserve
seemed to spring up, not more towards her than towards myself, if such a
thing can be explained. I shrank from analysing my feelings. I did not
like to talk or think of him as connected in any way with my own future
destiny, yet I wished earnestly to see him again before he left England.
I suppose Aunt Jane perceived this, for she said nothing more about him
that day. But the next morning, before we left the Grange for Castle
Hall, she told me that Carlo had undertaken the difficult and arduous
office of investigating the case of (as she considered) unjust
usurpation of my property, by a pretended heir to my uncle; and as soon
as he had seen his father at Sorrento, he intended to start for America,
and proceed to the place where the mysterious child was said to have
been born.
“He is going to tell you of this himself, but I thought it as well you
should know it before you see him, that you may know how anxious he is
that your father’s character should be vindicated.”
“It is most kind, indeed,” I said, “for that is the object I have most
at heart.” But I could not help adding that “I wished there was no
fortune to be gained by this vindication:” and the next minute I could
have bitten my tongue out for uttering it, for it seemed to imply a
doubt of the sincerity of his love or disinterestedness of his efforts.
Aunt Jane saw I was horrified at my implied doubt, so she merely said,
“After such a miraculous recovery as he had, and the look of despair we
both saw on his pale face, I do not think it likely that bad motives are
mingled with his efforts to be of use.”
And I fully agreed with her, but at the same time I felt puzzled by her
evident wish that I should become engaged to him. It suddenly occurred
to me that it might be on Norah’s account--that it might facilitate a
reconciliation between Sir Alfred and that most injured and ill-used
girl. And, oh! if this were the case, I would most willingly make any
sacrifice.
“How deeply you are meditating,” she said, after the pause in our
conversation while this new idea occurred to me. “Yes, I see by the
sudden colour in your cheeks, and bright flash in your eyes, that you
think you have read my thoughts; and so you have. But, remember, I
should not advise this step if I thought it would be an heroic
sacrifice; and you are wondering, too, that I, being such a happy old
maid, would not be satisfied with the plan which, at the present moment,
seems to you to be right, that you should never marry. You are thinking
now that Aunt Jane never found any man who came up to her
_beau-ideal_--therefore, why should you? And all this seems likely; but,
my dear, it was not the case, for I did find one, and we were engaged;
but he was in the army. He went to India just after our engagement,
and----”
“Oh! don’t try to tell me,” I interposed, as I saw the look of intense
sorrow on her face, for I remembered hearing a kind of rumour that an
officer she was engaged to had been killed in battle, after gaining
great renown, just before the time which had been fixed for his return
to England, when they were to have been married.
“No, I will not tell you any more,” said Aunt Jane. “I will only try to
explain that I think your disposition is even less fitted than mine is
for a lonely life, and that I have great hopes that Carlo will become
worthy of you--worthy of anyone--after two years’ probation.”
“Well, then let it be so, if I find he really wishes it,” said I; and I
suddenly felt as if a great load and responsibility were lifted from my
mind.