University of Virginia Library

12. CHAPTER XII.

—“I am surprised,—I am,—I did not expect,
Mr. Barclay:—you have misunderstood me:—
it is impossible that any thing I have said or
done could have induced you to suppose:—I
am grieved,—but,—but,—I am engaged.”

“Engaged!”—Herbert's voice echoed her
last word. He gazed vacantly for a moment,
as if seeking to comprehend its meaning.—
He then rose from beside her, and walked
out of the room.

—The sight of the gardener's house at some
distance before him made him sensible of
where he was. He slackened his speed.
Life seemed to have left the scene around
him. The familiar smiling fields looked desolate
and strange. He approached the house.
Was he awake,—did his eyes see? A black

crape was hanging from the latch of the door.
He got down from his horse. He paused.
The stillness weighed upon his senses: he
opened the door and went in. “He's gone!
gone!” sobbed the old man, throwing himself
on Herbert's bosom and weeping convulsively—“my
son—my dear boy is gone!” The
wife was sitting at the foot of the bed: her face
was buried in it, and she held with one hand
an infant in her lap. One of the children
was on the floor at her feet, while the eldest,
a boy of five years old, was leaning on his
mother weeping with her. Herbert went up
to the bed-side. For the first time he looked
upon a face resting in death. He gazed
fixedly at the features, as if he would read
the mystery of their stillness. The grief of
the wife became more audible. He turned
from the bed-side, and softly opening the
door, he went out. Tears flowed from his
eyes; and he sat down on the steps of the
house and wept.

Alfred heard in the morning of Miss Walsall's

engagement to Langley, and immediately
set off to Mr. Barclay's. He hoped to arrive
before Herbert should have started to go
to town: he found that he had been gone
some time. When he announced the news:

“Engaged to Mr. Langley!” exclaimed
Mrs. Barclay.

“Is it certain, Alfred?” asked Mr. Barclay
eagerly.

“Certain,” answered Alfred. “It's the
talk of the town. I was told of it by a friend
of Langley's who had it from Langley himself.”

“Poor Herbert,” said Mrs. Barclay.

“Happy Herbert! Most fortunate young
man! I wish him joy,” cried Mr. Barclay.

Alfred and Mrs. Barclay expressed surprise
at Mr. Barclay's satisfaction.

“I fear it will be a severe blow to Herbert,”
said Alfred.

“Not even that,” said Mr. Barclay. “And
what is a blow to a disease for life? The girl
is unworthy of Herbert. This alone is proof

enough. Her heart has preferred Langley,
or she has taken him from want of heart.—
Either supposition condemns her, more even
than her trifling with Herbert's feelings.—
That I forgive her, and Herbert will too one
of these days. Indeed, as to myself, she has
my best wishes for her prosperity, in return
for what she has contributed to Herbert's.—
The sight of her will always awaken in me a
feeling of kindness: I shall say to myself; my
nephew,—by one of those acts of wisdom
common, but not peculiar, to youth,—put a
large portion of his welfare into that woman's
hands,—and she gave it back to him. As to
blows, Alfred,—you call it rightly; for a
blow comes from without, and strikes outwardly:
it will stun him; but when he recovers,
he will be as sound as ever. Fear
not but that he will recover quickly. A
three weeks' acquaintance only! A man
who is not of the stuff to throw off an impression
made in so short a time, is not of the
stuff to excite strong sympathy,—nay, is unsusceptible
of deep effects. Herbert's feelings
have been inflamed, not thoroughly affected.
As well might you expect a vine to
spread its branches and bear ripe fruit in
a month, as a full growth of the feelings in
this short space. Far different would Herbert's
situation be, had his affections intertwined
themselves silently and gradually—
and it is only gradually that they can be thus
intertwined—round hers, warmed by the
gentle interchange of familiar attentions, nourished
by continual intercourse, strengthened
by inward sympathy;—but then, the first tendency
to love would have been checked instead
of encouraged: the gradual growth of
affection of one like him for one like her
were impossible—”

While Mr. Barclay was speaking, they
heard a horse's footsteps, and looking out,
saw Herbert riding rapidly up. As he came
near, they were all struck with the expression
of his countenance, so different from its
usual brightness.—“Herbert—” began Mr.

Barclay, surprised and affected by his appearance—

“The poor gardener is dead,” said Herbert.

“Dead!” exclaimed Mr. Barclay.

Alfred and Mrs. Barclay joined in the utterance
of sympathy for his family.

“Uncle, will you go down with me to the
house,” said Herbert.

“Certainly; my dear Herbert,” answered
Mr. Barclay: and in a few moments they
were on the way.

When they went in, the wife came up to
Herbert, and took his hand: she attempted
to speak, but she could not: she looked her
thanks, and burst into tears.—“I will take
care of your children—you shall want for
nothing,” said Herbert. Mr. Barclay comforted
the father. Herbert sat down on one
side of the room. The eldest child went to
him smiling, and climbed up playfully into
his lap. Herbert sobbed aloud. The child
was alarmed, and getting down, “Mother

mother,” said he, “Mr. Barclay is crying:”—
he looked towards the bed, and was silent, as
if, for a moment, he understood the scene.—
Several of the neighbors came in. Mr. Barclay
led the wife and her children and the
old man into another room; and having made
arrangements with the neighbors for the funeral,
he left the house with Herbert.

—“This morning I thought myself miserable!”
said Herbert.

“And yet,” said Mr. Barclay, “how much
more wretched than it is might be the condition
of this poor woman. She is a mother:—
and for her children and in them, she will yet
be happy. And when the widowed woman
shall be drawn from her grief by the smiles
of her children, the words you just now spoke
to her will shine on the mother's heart, making
light what but for them would be desolate;
and she will bless you, my son, with the fervent
blessing of a thankful mother.”