Two brief scenes more and I have done. The outline of the one probably
the imagination of the reader could fill up; the other, however, would
require to be pictured more completely.
Let me premise that all applications to King James, for assurance that
Ralph Woodhall would not be prosecuted for the events which had taken
place at Thetford, were vain, and the king, rampant with his success
over Monmouth, only showed a more and more strong determination to
persecute all who showed any favors toward Dissenters. In vain Lord
Woodhall petitioned. In vain the young man's father, now Lord
Coldenham, urged that his son was a steadfast member of the Church,
and had only acted from motives of pure humanity. They knew too well
what would be the consequence of Ralph's return to England, and both
of them at length went over to pass a few months with him in Holland.
When, at length, William of Orange landed on the shores of Great
Britain, and marched toward London, one of the most favored officers
of his army was the Honorable Colonel Woodhall; and when the crown was
placed, by the voice of the people, upon that prince's head, and James
himself became an exile, a beautiful and blooming bride sailed gayly
over with Queen Mary from Holland, and joined her noble husband at
Coldenham Castle. She was beautiful and blooming again; but a certain
delicacy of complexion--a want of that high and somewhat rustic health
which Margaret Woodhall had once enjoyed, gave her husband some
uneasiness, especially as her strength did not seem to increase even
in the air of her native land and county. She was very joyous,
however, and very happy; and three beautiful babes came as blessings
to the household. But no happiness can endure long unalloyed. Within
the four years that followed Ralph's marriage, his father and Lord
Woodhall both sunk quietly into the grave; and Margaret mourned much
for her father. Her color became less vivid, except at night; and she
often visited the old monuments in Coldenham church, and gazed at
several vacant places, where there was space for a tomb or two more.
When people inquired after her health, however, she always said she
was very well; and her husband's eye never but once found a sad look
upon her face, except when she was mourning for her father. She was at
the moment gazing at her children; and when Ralph bent down his head
and kissed her cheek, she put her arms round his neck, and whispered a
word or two in his ear: "There is one whom I should greatly prefer,"
she said, in conclusion, "if that should happen--You know whom I
mean."
"Hush! hush! dear Margaret," said Ralph; "you grow gloomy here. We
must change this scene, and in the softer air and brighter landscapes
of Devonshire, find health and spirits for you."
Margaret smiled, and said that was not needful; she only spoke of what
might be.
But Ralph carried out his plan, and ere a week was over the whole
family were moving gently toward Devonshire.
Suppose two more years over, reader; and you see once more Lord
Coldenham, not yet quite nine-and-twenty years of age.
A lady--a very beautiful lady--is seated in a chair where Margaret
used to sit. She is in a traveling dress; and one young child, of
about eighteen months old, is pressed close to her breast, and playing
among her rich brown hair with its little fingers. Three others,
somewhat older, are clustering round her, and all their young
forgetful faces are raised gladly toward her; but the tears are
falling rapidly from her eyes; and even her husband turns away toward
the window to conceal a drop that has gathered in his own. The next
moment he returned, and clasped her hand in his without uttering a
word; and the lady pointed to the children, saying, "These dear ones
do not remember, Ralph; and, indeed, how should they; but neither you
nor I, my dear husband, can ever forget there has been a Margaret. I
will do all I can to supply her place, but that can never be
completely."
"God bless you, my Hortensia!" said Ralph, and hurried away from the
room.
THE END.