Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

CHAPTER XXVIII.- Continued.

EASTWARD, HO ! " Yes, Lucy, we are very happy here," he replied ,• " more of earthly happiness than I ought ever to have thought could' last I will say that it has been like a death-struggle to think of givino- it up but I have done it. Father Sheridan has helped me," he added • " without him I do not think I could have brought myself to the step, even for your sake, but he says it is plainly God's will. I have laid tho whole matter before him from the beginning like a map, and he has not decided without deep thought and earnest prayer! O, Lucy, can earth afford any comfort like the help of a judicious pious director! I went to him at once after the first day and night of anguish—l have troubled him days and nights since—he has probed the matter to the very foundation, and this is his decision. .. " And I1"?I 1"? *? all for me > Phili P?" said the wife, overcome with the thought oi the terrible sacrifice he was making. « " Not altogether, dear," he replied; "let us'hope it is to be the final blow to my terrible pride, which we can never be sure is conquered, till it can bear to meet those whom I have wronged " "O, Philip," she exclaimed, clasping his hand in hers,"it would be so blessed to die among our own !" He did not reply • he could not meet the matter as yet, with any desire; it was a too fearful rending of the veil that hid him from the world. With the energy and determination of his character, he saw that the lono-er the matter was deferred the harder would be the end, and like a true man he went to work at once on the necessary preparations tor their removal before the winter. There were trials in parting, even to Mrs. Benton; the home which they had made in the wilderness had many dear and precious associations, but particularly her regard for Dr Nelson and the Leighton family, with more than all, her affection for Father bhendan, who had been such a heaven-sent friend, made her leaving Inglewood, even with the prospect of a home at Hawthorndean, a great trial; but Dr. Nelson had been led to aspirations for the priesthood, and was soon to make his preparations for the holy work at a Seminary of the Sulpicians; she had helped him in finding his vocation, and their friendship was cemented by the most enduring ties. She had been obliged to consent very reluctantly to Sobriety's marriage; finding her determined, she had promised her an outfit if she would wait till after the Christmas holidays, when she would be sixteen; all this, however, could be arranged with Mrs Lei°-h-ton, who would take a motherly care of the girl for the sake of her friend, for Marion's faithless course had made no enmity between the two families. Horatio Leighton never cared to seeAthlacca again, and m the spring was to remove his mother's residence to the capital oi the State which for the future was to be his home. Dr. Nelson s sister, Philomena, had been his little housekeeper for some months, though scarcely in her teens, and Mrs. Benton's proposition to take her east for her education was most gladly accepted by the brother. As the day approached when Mr and Mrs Benton were to take leave of Inglewood, the faithful " Old Cap" feemed all at once to become übiquitous. Through the days of their pS i^^x*:^X^r^> ahvays v bis moutl pack^n^^ east-heaps of trucks, to haul, let's see-one, two, toe, four I can't count a hundred, but I've got a brother as can; deary me " he said, looking at Mrs Benton, "what mischief these gal JTnake ' I'll be bound this niovm has to do with that right pretty gal " Mrs Benton assured him that Miss MarioS had nothhV what?.V£ *? d v° - Wlt, heirheir d W*««- He shook his head doubtiSy ••Waal, she's clearing out Athlacca any way-here's Lei-hton can^t stand it and mothers naturally folle/ thar sons; and she's sS?te the Doctor for all useful doms, and so they'll make a priest on him; and finally her poor pap and mam must pull up stakes and foller; wall, women do make a tarnal site of bother. Now here's my Lmdy Ann's been down to Crow Crick to hear this seventh?day feller; her aunt sent for her to come and get religion; she staidS a week, and came home crank and piert° enough, I tellyer-sa?d she'd got religion, but 1 don't see it; talks like a spinnon-wheel

about the Pope and Nantechrist, sent all the Papists to the bad place you know. Then I put in, and tel'd her shA full better tuk tne chance of sum of them Papists than of Jim McKinsey, or any other seventh dayer. They used to have them fellers in York State j they kept nay woman and all her sisters in a tarnal brile all the time. I thought we'd got clear of the whole scrape on urn when we came here; deary me, if that's what they call the march of civihzashun, the less on't the better." *"«*«,n The poor man having relieved himself, stuffed a new quid into his mouth and went to work. Mrs Benton talked to him of the expected tenant at Ingle wood, but Rice declared he never wished to know him, for the truth was, he no sooner made friends with one new-comer before he was gone, and another took his place Eosme was almost wild with delight when she heard of the removal of her parents; her joy seemed like the overflowing of waters long pent in by restraint ; apparently she forgot Marion and her misdemeanor; took but little interest, Ned declared, in letters from abroad, and was absorbed in one thought that she was again to be near her mother, laying plans without number with Aleck and the Doctor, all associated with dear old Hawthorndean As to Aleck, Eosine's plans were the only matters into which he entered with any interest ; his health was utterly broken down his wound refused to heal, and mental anxiety was sappin<* the' very foundations of his life; through his lawyer he had settled an annuity upon his wife, which could be withdrawn at his pleasure but his heart was evidently ill at ease. Laura had a°uin found refuge with Sister Agnes in the new House, that, Phoenix-like had risen on the ashes of the older establishment. The Captain heard of her removal from his mother, but he made no sign ; the time was coming, he plainly foresaw, when he should be obliged to resign on half-pay ; perhaps something might be given him by government, in consideration of his wound received in nVhtino 1 his country's battles. In his father's house he always had a home but his life, ere he had reached thirty years, was growing wearisome to him. He clung to Kosine for comfort, as did every member of the family, and he was delegated to accompany her to Hawthorndean, to greet her parents on their arrival there. It had been a matter of a little contention in the Colonel's household which of the three representatives of the male sex should have this honor, but a patient on the borders of the grave settled the question with Dr. Hartland, and government business pressed upon the Colonel ; thus, much to the discomfort of the two left behind, the Captain was escort. It was beautiful to behold the tenderness that had sprung up between these two ; a deferential, respectful, gentle affection on his part, and a thoughtful, care-taking love with her. She was the only one upon whom he ever smiled with one of those sunny, bright smiles, out of his clear blue eyes, that had given him such attraction in his early youth ; now those heartglimpses were very rare, and given for her loving assiduity for his comfort. " Perchance he saw and felt the sympathy She had for him, whose soul had such a scar." They reached Hawthorndean to find the grandfather prostrate with the infirmaties of age, and as Eosine soon discovered borne down with anxiety about the coming meeting. With womanly tact, and the soft lady-like ways of her mother, she did much to smooth the path for the reception of her father ,p + PIGP 1G *T r C ;, an \ e ?* lengtl J wben Phili P Benton and tis wife had left the railroad station, and were on their way across the bleak and bare November hills of her native town. Ah, those dear old stone walls, those precious home enclosures, strangers in the land where .she had dwelt, they came to her like long lost treasures, and filled her with unspoken joy. Her husband could not sympathise with her here; she knew that to him this hour was one of untold sorrow, and she hid her joy, as the shade grew deeper on his brow at every familiar object. He nearly broke doAvn as they came suddenly upon the entrance to a quiet, grassy lane, ending in a dense wood, where many years ago he had breathed into her lar words of love She did not trust herself to speak, to calm his agitation, but quietly let her hand slip into his, reassuring him and strengthening him by her touch. ° c " x "fa Never till that evening had Eosine felt her father's tears on her cheek, never had he so clasped her to his heart, and looked down into her eyes with such inexpressible emotion. Mr Hawthorne was unable to rise even to meet his beloved daughter, and Philip Benton, who had nerved himself for this moment, waited only to embrace his children, when he sunk on. his knees by the couch of the old man. exclaiming, " I have wronged you, sir deeply wronged you, by the past; can you forgive me for Lucy's sake " • „ r lse ' my son '" re P lied the trembling voice of the father- '• I judged you harshly— come back to me, come as a favor, and eatablish yourself as the head of my house. Lucy and you are all I have; my days can be but few, let me spend them with my cnudren. * Mrs Benton listened, and tears of gratitude bedewed her cheeks, for this dreaded scene ending in unity and peace Mrs Benton was soon as thoroughly domesticated as if she had never left her home, and her husband, without intruding in any way, gradually came to be acknowledged master of the establishment; while Eosine and Aleck lingered among those beloved hills iWSSfv^i 0 ? 8 , Were COveved with white snow-wreaths. The blind Willie had taken a sudden fancy to Captain Hartland, and was his companion night and day. He had procured for him an alphabet and books for the blind, and assiduously set himself to teach the child to read; he also roamed over the fields with him, told him tales of war, and life in various countries ; in short made himself so necessary to the boy, that a word about returnin<Ao the city grieved him to the heart. Letter after letter had come from the Colonel and Doctor, urging their return and threatenino- on the Doctor s part an immediate raid upon the premises if Eosine was not forthcoming. It was a hard wrench upon the maternal love of Mrs Benton to part with her daughter again -The had

hopid (liiit in mediate arrangements would bo made for Rosine's final restoration to her own family ; but hero she found her husband invim ibJe. His word hnd r-< <n pass-cd to Colonel llavtland, and he could not and ■would n< t recall what was given when in the depths of adversity, now that what the world would call better days were in store for them.

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.
Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZT18770105.2.9.1

Bibliographic details

New Zealand Tablet, Volume IV, Issue 196, 5 January 1877, Page 6

Word Count
1,979

CHAPTER XXVIII.- Continued. New Zealand Tablet, Volume IV, Issue 196, 5 January 1877, Page 6

CHAPTER XXVIII.- Continued. New Zealand Tablet, Volume IV, Issue 196, 5 January 1877, Page 6