University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III.

Rogers.

Elinor had been in her room for some minutes, and was
standing in thought, before an open window, when she
turned toward a little table near her, and, opening a Bible,
drew from it a letter. She raised it to her lips, and, moving
toward a light, unfolded the sheet. Tears soon blinded her
sight; she was much agitated; then, becoming calmer, she
continued to read. It was a letter of some length, and every
line seemed deeply interesting to the reader. Once she
paused, as if struck by some new thought, and then, again,
she read with some anxiety. She had just finished the last
words, when her door opened, and Miss Agnes entered the
room.

“Be calm, my dear child,” said her aunt; “it is indeed
a precious letter, and one which we both value highly; your
feelings are only natural, dearest; but do not indulge them
to excess.” Miss Wyllys, by her gentle, caressing manner,
succeeded in calming Elinor, when, urging her not to sit up
later, she left her niece for the night.

When Miss Agnes was gone, Elinor fell on her knees,
with the letter still in her hand. She remained some time,
apparently in prayer, and then rising calmly, she folded the
sheet, and laid it on the Bible; and, before her head touched
her pillow, the letter was again removed, and placed beneath
it.

We have not the slightest wish to beguile the reader into
believing that Elinor had a mysterious lover, or a clandestine
correspondence; and we shall at once mention, that this
letter was one written years previously, by the mother she
had lost; and her good aunt, according to the direction, had
placed it in her niece's hands, on the morning of her seventeenth
birthday.

When Mr. Wyllys went down to breakfast, the next
morning, he inquired if their drunken visiter, of the previous
night, had shown himself again.

“I have just been out, sir, to look after him,” said Harry,
“and the fellow does not seem to have liked his night's
lodgings. He broke jail, and was off before any of the men
were up this morning; they found the door open, and the
staple off—he must have kicked his way out; which could
easily be done, as the lock was old.”

Elinor suggested that it was, perhaps, some one who was
ashamed of the situation in which he had been found.

“More probably he was too much accustomed to a lock-up
house, to find it pleasant. But if he really had any business
here, we shall hear of him again, no doubt,” said Mr. Wyllys.
The affair thus disposed of, the conversation took another
turn.

Mr. Wyllys, Elinor's grandfather, was decidedly a clever

man. He had held a high position, in his profession, until
he withdrew from it, and had, at one time, honourably distinguished
himself as a politician. He was well educated,
and well read; his library, at Wyllys-Roof, was, indeed, one
of the best in the country. Moreover, Mr. Wyllys was a
philosopher, a member of the Philosophical Society of Philadelphia;
and the papers he read, before that honourable
association, were generally much admired by his audience.
It is even probable that Mr. Wyllys believed himself endowed
with a good stock of observation and experience in
human nature; but, in spite of all these advantages, we cannot
help thinking that, although well-versed in natural philosophy,
this excellent gentleman proved himself quite ignorant
of boy and girl nature. Even his daughter, Miss Agnes,
feared her father had been unwise and imprudent on an
occasion which she considered of great importance.

A great deal might be said in favour of Harry Hazlehurst.
Few young men, of his age, were more promising in character
and abilities. He was clever, and good-tempered; and,
with all the temptations of an easy fortune within his reach,
he had always shown himself firm in principles. There
was one trait in his character, however, which had already
more than once brought him into boyish scrapes, and which
threatened, if not corrected, to be injurious to his career
through life. He was naturally high-spirited; and, having
been indulged by his mother, and seldom controlled by his
male guardian, a brother some ten years older than himself,
Harry was rather disposed to be self-willed, and cherished
some false notions regarding independence of character. His
friends hoped, however, that as he grew older, he would
become wiser. Something of this feeling had been mixed
up with the motives which had lately led him to take a decided
step for the future.

From a boy, Harry had been more or less the companion
and play-fellow of Elinor Wyllys and Jane Graham, whom
he looked upon as cousins, owing to a near family connexion.

He had always felt very differently, however, towards the
two girls. Jane, a little beauty from her birth, had been an
indolent and peevish child, often annoying Harry by selfish
interference with their plans and amusements. Elinor, on
the contrary, had always been a favourite playmate. She
was an intelligent, generous child, of an uncommonly fine
temper and happy disposition. As for her plain face, the
boy seldom remembered it. They were both gay, clever
children, who suited each other remarkably well, in all their
little ways and fancies. Now, within the last year, it had
struck Harry that his brother Robert and his sister-in-law,
Mrs. Hazlehurst, were very desirous of making a match between
Jane Graham and himself. He had overheard some
trifling remark on the subject, and had suffered an afternoon's
very stupid teasing and joking, about Jane, from a talkative
old bachelor relation. This was quite sufficient to rouse the
spirit of independence, in a youth of his years and disposition.
When, at length, he heard a proposition that Jane should
accompany them abroad, he went so far as to look upon it
as something very like manœuvring. He was not a man
to be led by others, in the choice of a wife. Jane might be
a beauty—no doubt she was—but he had no such extravagant
admiration for mere beauty. There was Elinor, for
instance; she was a very different girl, though without any
beauty; she was just the kind of person he liked. She was
so warm-hearted and generous in her feelings—without a bit
of nonsense; she was so clever—could catch a thought in a
moment, and always understood and enjoyed a good thing.
Then her manners, too, were charming, so simple and natural;
while Jane had no manners at all. Then, everybody
said she was remarkably graceful, in a perfectly natural
way;—how well she rode! Jane was even afraid to mount.
And how pleasantly Elinor sang—and he was so fond of
music.—Jane would do very well to sit and look at all day
long; but, for walking, talking, riding, singing — ay, for
thinking and feeling, Elinor would make precisely such a
companion as a man of sense would wish for. By dint of
dwelling on Elinor's good qualities, and on what he fancied
the plans of his brother and sister-in-law, he came to the conclusion
that the only thing to be done, under the circumstances,
by a man of any character—by a man who had an
opinion of his own, was to go immediately to Mr. Wyllys,
and request his permission to address Elinor.

Harry was a great favourite with his uncle—from a child
the young man had always given this title to Mr. Wyllys—
and he had more than once expressed to his daughter, a wish
that Hazlehurst and Elinor might, some years thence, take a
fancy for each other. In the mean time he seemed to look
upon them as children, and left matters to take care of themselves.
Harry's proposal was, therefore, quite unexpected
at the moment, and took him by surprise; he seemed to think
Hazlehurst decidedly too young, at present—he had not yet
acquired his profession. This little difficulty in the opening
of the affair, merely served to rouse Harry's eloquence; and
as his youth was really the only objection against him, he
succeeded, before long, in obtaining Mr. Wyllys's cheerful
consent to his endeavouring, during the next two months, to
interest Elinor in his behalf.

Miss Agnes, when informed of what had passed, was quite
startled; she thought both parties too young to take so decided
a step. But her father had given his formal consent,
and she could not seriously oppose it; especially when she
remembered that she, also, had more than once indulged the
idea that some five or six years later, Harry would make a
very good husband for her adopted daughter.

No one in the family was more surprised at Harry's advances
than Elinor herself. They had been so much together,
ever since she could remember, and had always been
such good friends, in an open, brother-and-sisterly way, that
even in the last year or two, when indistinct ideas of love
and matrimony had occasionally, like distant events, cast
their shadows before, Harry had never once presented himself

to her fancy in the light of a suitor. It required a day
or two for her to comprehend the full meaning of Harry's
proceedings; she could say neither yes, nor no. This hesitation
very much increased Hazlehurst's perseverance; but
her aunt, who looked on anxiously, had stipulated that nothing
decided should be required of her, until Harry left
them.

In the mean time, a day or two had been sufficient for Mr.
Wyllys to become not only reconciled to the idea, but so
well pleased with the appearance of things, that he amused
himself with looking on at Harry in his new character of a
lover; and generally once a day, had some little joke at the
expense of Elinor's embarrassment. But now, the two
months had passed; Harry was to sail the next week for
France—and Elinor, the morning after her birth-day, was to
give a decided answer.

It was no longer very difficult to foresee that this answer
would be favourable. In fact, Harry, who was thoroughly
gentlemanly by nature and habit, had made his attentions
just what they ought to have been under the circumstances;
and, with the full approbation of her own friends, and all
Harry's good qualities appearing in their best light, the two
months had proved sufficient to direct Elinor's childish affection
for him into another and a deeper channel. The letter
she had received on the night of her birth-day, caused a
moment's indecision when, the next morning, after breakfast,
as Mrs. Stanley and Mrs. George Wyllys left the room, her
grandfather playfully asked her “what they should do with
Harry?”

But she scarcely knew in what shape to express the
thought that arose in her mind, and the feeling merely gave
an additional touch of embarrassment to her manner, which
was only looked upon as quite natural at the moment.

“I shall think myself very badly treated, Elinor,” said
Harry, observing her hesitation, “if you turn me off like a
common acquaintance, after we have been the best friends in
the world for nobody knows how long.”

“Well, Nelly,” said her grandfather, “what is it, my
child? Shall we tell Harry to go to Paris and cultivate his
moustaches, and forget everything else?”

“Oh, no;” said Elinor, smiling as she held out her hand
to Hazlehurst, though without looking up: “pray, don't come
back a dandy!”

The affair was settled. The young people parted with
the understanding that when Hazlehurst returned from Europe,
and had acquired his profession, they were to be married;
and Harry went to Philadelphia, to join his brother,
and make the last arrangements for their voyage.

Jane, too, left Elinor a few days later; and Miss Wyllys,
who had charge of her—as Mr. and Mrs. Graham lived in
Charleston—placed her at one of the fashionable boarding-schools
of New York. Miss Adeline Taylor had, in the
mean time, informed her parents that she had changed her
mind as to the school which was to have the honour of completing
her education: she should not return to Mrs. A—'s,
but go to Mrs. G—'s, which was a more fashionable establishment.
Not that she had anything to complain of at Mrs.
A—'s; but she thought the young ladies at Mrs. G—'s
dressed more elegantly, and besides, she felt the impossibility
of remaining separated from Jane Graham, her new bosom
friend. These two young ladies had met twice previously
to the evening they had passed together at Wyllys-Roof;
Adeline had upon one occasion been in the same boat with
Jane, going and coming, between New York and Longbridge,
and she had already done all in her power towards getting
up a desperate intimacy. Her mother, as a matter of course,
did not interfere with the young lady's preference for Mrs.
G—'s school—why should she? It was Adeline's affair;
she belonged to the submissive class of American parents,
who think it an act of cruelty to influence or control their
children, even long before they have arrived at years of discretion.
As for Mr. Taylor, he had discovered that the
daughters of several fashionable families were at Mrs.

G—'s, and was perfectly satisfied with the change; all
he had to do was, to make out the cheques in one name instead
of another. Adeline managed the whole affair herself;
and having at last been to a young party, for which she had
been waiting, and having satisfied some lingering scruples
as to the colours of the silk dresses which composed the
winter uniform of the school, and which she at first thought
frightfully unbecoming to her particular style of beauty,
Miss Taylor one morning presented herself at Mrs. G—'s
door, and was regularly admitted as one of the young band
in fashionable training under that lady's roof. Jane, it is
true, did not show quite as much rapture at the meeting as
Adeline could have wished; but, then, Miss Taylor had already
discovered that this last bosom-friend was of a calmer
disposition than the dozen who had preceded her.

Harry had not been a day in Philadelphia, before he
announced to his brother, his engagement with Elinor; for
he was much too frank by nature to have any taste for unnecessary
mystery.

“I have a piece of news for you, Robert,” he said, as he
entered the drawing-room before dinner, and found his brother
lying on a sofa.

“Good news, I hope,” replied Mr. Robert Hazlehurst.

“May I not have my share of it?” asked Mrs. Hazlehurst,
whom Harry had not observed.

“Certainly; it is a piece of good fortune to your humble
servant, in which I hope you will both be interested.”

“Why, really, Harry,” said his sister-in-law, “there is a
touch of importance, with a dash of self-complacency and
mystery in your expression, that look a little lover-like.
Have you come to announce that you are determined to offer
yourself to some belle or other before we sail?”

“The deed is already done,” said Harry, colouring a little;
as much, perhaps, from a mischievous satisfaction in the disappointment
he foresaw, as from any other feeling.

“No!” said his brother, turning towards him with some

anxiety. “Offered yourself — and accepted, then; or, of
course, you would not mention it.”

“Pray, tell us, Harry, who is to be our new sister,” said
Mrs. Hazlehurst, kindly, and with some interest.

“I have half a mind to tease you,” he replied, smiling.

“I never should guess,” said Mrs. Hazlehurst. “I had
no idea you were attached to any one—had you, Robert?”

“Not I! It must be somebody at Longbridge—he has
been there more than half his time lately. Come, tell us,
Harry, like a man; who is it?” asked Robert Hazlehurst,
naturally feeling interested in his younger brother's choice.

“No one precisely at Longbridge,” said Harry, smiling.

“Who can it be?—And actually engaged?” added Mrs.
Hazlehurst, who saw that Harry would not explain himself
without being questioned.

“Engaged, very decidedly, and positively, I am happy to
say. Is there anything so very wonderful in my having
declared an attachment to Elinor; I am sure I have liked
her better than any one else all my life.”

“Engaged to Elinor!” exclaimed Robert Hazlehurst, much
relieved. “I am delighted to hear it. It is a wiser step
than one would always expect from a young gentleman of
your years.”

“Engaged to Elinor! I wish you joy with all my heart,”
repeated his sister-in-law. “It had not occurred to me to
think of any one so near and dear to us already; you could
not have done better, Harry,” she added, with a perfectly
frank, open smile.

To tell the truth, Hazlehurst was not a little surprised, and
rather mortified by this decided approbation—since it proved
he had been unjust, and that he had deceived himself as to
what he had supposed the wishes of his brother, and the
plans of his sister-in-law. He did not, however, for an instant,
regret the step he had taken; his regard for Elinor was
too sincere to allow of any other feeling than that of satisfaction,
in remembering their engagement. But it had now

become a matter of indifference whether Jane were to join
the European party or not.

On the appointed day, the Hazlehursts sailed. They
went abroad with more advantages than many others, for
they carried with them good sense, good principles, and a
good education, and were well prepared to enjoy the wide
field of observation that lay before them. There was every
reason to hope, from the encouraging opinions of his physicians,
that Mr. Robert Hazlehurst's helath would be entirely
restored by travelling; his wife looked forward to the excursion
with much pleasure, and Harry was delighted with
the plan. They had an old family friend in Paris, an excellent
woman, who was in every way qualified to redeem the
promises she had given, of soon making them feel at home
in France. Madame de Bessières was the widow of a distinguished
emigrè, and had passed a long exile with her
husband in America. They had been for years near neighbours
of Mr. Wyllys, and this gentleman had had it in his
power, at different times, to render services of some importance
to his French friends. Madame de Bessières and her
family were grateful for these acts of kindness: she had
known the young people at Wyllys-Roof, and felt an interest
in them all; for their own sakes, as well as from a sincere
respect and regard for Mr. Wyllys and his daughter, this
lady was anxious to show the Hazlehursts every friendly
attention in her power. Under these agreeable auspices,
the party left home, expecting to be absent for a couple of
years.