14. CHAP. XIV.
TRIAL OF THE HEART.
“What a noble mind is here displayed!” said
Sir George, as he read Rebecca's note.
“How much does this woman's sentiments elevate her
above the station in which Providence has placed her!
I fear my letter was not dictated with sufficient delicacy;
her pride has taken the alarm, that laudible pride that
is a woman's best safeguard: but no matter, I will not
write again, but wait till I can discover in what manner
my sister behaves to her. When she has tried her
new situation, she may not find it so easy as her little
knowledge of the world at present leads her to imagine.
When she finds herself uncomfortable, then, perhaps,
the offer of friendship from me will be more acceptable.”
In the evening Sir George, having no inclination to
join the insipid chat of Lord and Lady Ossiter, pleaded
letters to write, and went to the library to look for a
book that might afford him an hour's rational amusement.
As he entered the room, he saw Rebecca busily
employed in retouching a small drawing that lay before
her, and he observed, that she frequently looked at a
portrait of his mother that hung over the chimney.”
“I disturb you, I fear, Miss Littleton.”
“By no means, Sir,” cried Rebecca, rising, visibly
embarrassed; “I was just going. Indeed, my being
here is an intrusion, I must entreat you to pardon.”
“I shall be extremely sorry if Miss Littleton considered
herself as an intruder in any apartment in this
house. You were drawing; will you permit me to see
your performance?”
“You will smile at my presumption, Sir; but I have
been endeavouring to catch some faint resemblance of
my regretted Lady, that should any thing separate me
from her daughter's service, I might have it in my
power sometimes to gaze on her beloved features and
weep.”
“You have been happy in preserving the likeness;
but, I think, I have a miniature of my mother, the
most striking thing of the kind I ever saw.”
He then drew from his pocket a small case, which
contained Lady Mary's picture, elegantly set with
brilliants, intermixed with pearls. It had been set as
a present for Lady Ossiter; but as that Lady knew
not of her brother's design, he thought he might now
dispose of it more to his own satisfaction.
“Will Miss Littleton honour me so far,” said he,
taking it from the case, “as to wear this picture for
the sake of her whose resemblance it bears?”
“The picture of itself, Sir George, would be to me
an invaluable treature; but its ornaments are so superb
and costly, you will pardon me if I decline the acceptance
of it.”
“Why will you mortify me by this refusal? You
treat me very unkindly, Miss Littleton, since even my
mother's picture is not acceptable from my hands!”
“Indeed, Sir, you are mistaken, and, to convince
you I am not ungrateful, was that picture devisted of
its rich ornaments, I would accept it cheerfully, and
wear it, not only for her sake, but your own.”
“Charming, engaging woman! exclaimed he, catching
her hand, “why are you thus irresistibly lovely,
and yet refuse me the satisfaction of placing you above
the malice of fortune?”
She blushed carnation deep, as she attempted to withdraw
her hand; but a smile dimpled on her cheek, and
her heart peeped forth from her tell-tale eyes.
“You make me smile,” said she, “to hear you talk
of the malice of fortune. We, who are born in an
humble station, cannot feel the want of luxuries which
we never enjoyed. Happiness is not always annexed to
wealth, or misery to poverty. We are all poor or rich
by comparison, and my situation, which to you is an
object of compassion, would be to thousands the summit
of felicity; but your condescension makes me forget
myself: I wish you a good night.”
“Stay one moment adorable Rebecca, cried Sir
George, stopping her as she was about to leave the
room. “Hear me, I entreat you, with attention; by
heavens, you shall never go into the service of Lady
Ossiter, nor into any service. I am your slave; my
life, my forune, all are your's. I love you more than
existence itself. I mean not to offend your delicacy.
My designs are of the most honourable nature. Name
your own time, I will wait with patience. Only suffer
me to tell my sister, that the woman whom I aspire to
the honour of making my wife, must henceforth be
treated with that respect her worth and virtue demands.”
“Hold, hold, dear Sir George,” cried Rebecca,
pale and trembling, “I must hear no more. You honour
me, highly honour me by these professions of regard;
but you talk of impossibilities. The humble
Rebecca Littleton, however sensible of your merits,
can never be your wife; insurmountable obstacles are
placed between us.”
“If your bosom, lovely Rebecca, glows with sensibility,
every obstacle is easily removed.”
“Do not interrupt me,” said she. “The obstacles
I speak of can never be removed; my vows are already
pledged; they are registered in heaven; 'tis sacrilege
to listen to your declaration.”
Sir George dropped her hand, and, with a look of
mingled horror and surprise, cried, “Are you already
married?”
“No,” replied she, faintly, “not married.”
“Then you sport with my misery, cruel, cruel girl!”
“Alas!” said Rebecca, with a look of tenderness,
“heaven knows I do not. I would give worlds, did
I possess them, to save you from one hour's anguish;
but, ah! Sir George, mine is a wayward fate; my
bosom is heavy laden with sorrow. Ah! do not increase
that sorrow by letting me see you partake it.”
“Then,” cried he, starting from his seat, “then
you do not hate me?”
“Hate you, oh! no, that were impossible.”
“Then we may yet be happy,” said he, catching
her in his arms.
Rebecca's heart had almost betrayed her; but she
was sensible this must be the moment of victory. She
pushed him from her, and assuming an air of reserve,
“Sir George,” said she, “if you wish my happiness,
there is but one way by which you can promote it, that
is, by never more speaking to me on this subject; my
fate is irrevocably fixed; cease then to disturb my felicity
by endeavouring to awaken my sensibility. You,
Sir George, are designed by heaven to move in an exalted
station. You have many duties to fulfil, which
it will be almost criminal to neglect. For me, unknowing
and unknown by the world, if I can but pass
through life blameless, my utmost wish is gratified.”
“Will you then leave me? said he, “and leave me
devoid of hope?”
“No, Sir, I will endeavour to cheer your bosom
with the same hope that animates mine. I hope, sincerely,
you will soon meet a woman your equal, in
birth, fortune, and merit, who will obliterate from
your mind all traces of Rebecca; and may you, united
by the most sacred ties, enjoy in her society every blessing
that heaven can bestow, or you desire.”
“No, Rebecca, no; do not indulge so vain an idea,
for while you live, and remain unmarried, never shall
the hymenial torch be lighted by me.”
“Ah!” cried Rebecca, forcing a smile, “you talk
wildly; we shall hear you tell a different tale shortly.”
“But will you not accept the picture as a token of
my esteem?”
He held it towards her. She put his hand back,
and said, in a tone of displeasure, “I can accept no
diamonds, Sir George, and, for heaven's sake, detain
me no longer here. I have acted very improperly in
talking with you so long; but I will take care this
shall be our last interview.”
She then courtseyed slightly, and retired to her apartment,
where conscious rectitude alone alleviated
the pangs of disappointed love.
“Yes,” said she, “I have done right; an union
with Sir George would by no means secure me permanent
felicity; he is young, volatile, and possessed of
violent passions. Alas! when the novelty of my person
was worn off, I might cease to charm, and how could
I endure his neglect? besides, how ill could my heart
bear that he should be subject to the sneers of his acquaintance
on my account. Oh! my dear Lady Mary,
you knew what was best for me, and never will I forget
your injunctions.”
