"Come, nephew, sit down by me, and I will relate to you a page out of my own history, which will not only show you what manner of man this father of yours is, but explain to you the position in which we are both placed regarding him; clearing up what must have appeared to you very mysterious."

With intense interest the amiable son of this most execrable father listened to the tale already told of his mother's wrongs. How often did the crimes of the parent dye the cheeks of the child with honest indignation, or pale them with fear? How did his love for his generous uncle increase in a tenfold degree, when he revealed the treachery that had been practised against him! How often did he ask himself--"Is it possible that he can love the son of this cruel brother?" But then he was also the son of the woman he had loved so tenderly for years, whose memory he held in the deepest veneration; was like him in person, and, with sounder judgment and better abilities, resembled him in mind also.

Satisfied that his father would do him justice in spite of his cold, unfeeling neglect, and bequeath to him the wealth to obtain which he had sacrificed every human feeling and domestic comfort, Anthony no longer suffered the humiliating sense of obligation to weigh upon his heart and depress his spirits, and he cheerfully accepted his uncle's offer to send him to college to study for the Church.

"Five livings," G.o.dfrey declared, were four too many for any inc.u.mbent, and he would charitably relieve Anthony from some of them, and study for the same profession. His cousin was grieved at this choice, so unfitted to the tastes and pursuits of his gay companion; but finding all remonstrance vain, he ceased to importune him on the subject, hoping that as time advanced, he would, of his own accord, abandon the idea.

To college, therefore, the lads went; and here the same dissimilarity marked their conduct as at school. Anthony applied intensely to his studies, and made rapid progress in mental and moral improvement.

Serious without affectation, and pious without cant, he daily became more attached to the profession he had chosen, hoping to find through it a medium by which he could one day restore to the world the talents which for half a century his father had buried in the dust. G.o.dfrey's career, on the other hand, was one of folly, dissipation and crime. He wasted his father's property in the most lavish expenditure, and lost at the gaming table sums that would have settled him well in life.

Anthony remonstrated with him on his want of principle, and pointed out the ruin which must follow such profligacy. This G.o.dfrey took in very bad part, and tauntingly accused his cousin of being a spy. He told him that it sounded well from a dependent on his father's bounty to preach up abstinence to him. These circ.u.mstances threw Anthony into a deep melancholy. He did not like to write to his uncle to inform him in what a disgraceful manner his son was spending his time and money; and he constantly reproached himself with a want of faithfulness in keeping such an important matter a secret.

Disgusted with his cousin and his dissipated a.s.sociates, Anthony withdrew entirely from their society, and shut himself up in his own apartments, rarely leaving his books to mingle in scenes in which he could not sympathize, and in which, from his secluded habits, he was not formed to shine. He became a dreamer. He formed a world for himself, and peopled it with beings whose imaginary perfections had no counterpart on earth. He went forth to mingle with his kind, and found them so unlike the creatures in his moral Utopia, that he determined to relinquish society and spiritualise his own nature, the better to fit him for his high calling as a minister of the gospel of Christ.

"How much better it would be to die young," he would exclaim, "than live to be old and wicked, or to watch over the decay of the warm affections and enthusiastic feelings of youth; to see the beautiful fade from the heart, and the worldly and common-place fill up the blighting void! Oh!

G.o.dfrey, G.o.dfrey! how can you enjoy the miserable and sensual pleasures for which you are forfeiting self-respect and peace of mind for ever!"

"But G.o.dfrey is happier than you, with all your refined feelings and cultivated tastes," whispered the tempter to his soul.

"It cannot be," returned the youth, as he communed with his own heart.

"The pleasures of sin may blind the mental vision, and blunt the senses, for a while; but when the terrible truth makes all things plain--and the reaction comes--and come it a.s.suredly will--and the mind, like a polluted stream, can no longer flow back to its own bright source, and renovate its poisoned waters; who shall then say that the madness of the sensualist can satisfy the heart?"

Thus did these two young men live together: one endeavoring by the aid of religion, and by studying the wisdom of the past, to exalt and purify his fallen nature; the other by grovelling in the dust, and mingling with beings yet more sinful and degraded, rapidly debased his mind to a more degenerate and fallen state.

G.o.dfrey Hurdlestone had always been covetous of his cousin's antic.i.p.ated wealth, but now he envied his good name, and the respect which his talents and good conduct ent.i.tled him to receive from his superiors, and he hated him accordingly. He could not bear to see him courted and caressed by his worldly companions because he was the son of the rich miser, and himself thrown into the background, although in personal endowments he far surpa.s.sed his studious and retiring companion. His own father, though reputed to be rich, was known to be in embarra.s.sed circ.u.mstances, which the extravagance of his son was not likely to decrease. G.o.dfrey had no mental resource but in the society of persons whom Anthony despised; and he was daily annoyed by disparaging comparisons which the very worldlings he courted were constantly drawing between them. "Oh envy!" well has it been said by the wisest of mankind, "who can stand before envy?"

Of all human pa.s.sions, the meanest in its operations, the most fatal in its results, foul parent of the most revolting crimes. If the heart is guarded against this pa.s.sion, the path to heaven becomes easy of access, and the broad and dangerous way loses half its attractions.

G.o.dfrey had forfeited his own self-respect, and he hated his cousin for possessing a jewel which he had cast away. This aversion was strengthened by the anxious solicitude that Anthony expressed for his welfare, and the earnest appeals which he daily made to his conscience, to induce him to renounce his present destructive course, if not for his own, for his father's sake.

Their studies were nearly completed, when the immense sums that G.o.dfrey had squandered in dissipation and gambling obliged the Colonel to recall them home.

Algernon, although not a little displeased with his heartless selfish son, received the young men with his usual kindness, but there was a shade of care upon his broad open brow, which told to Anthony a tale of anxiety and suffering, that caused him the deepest pain. As two whole years must necessarily elapse before Anthony could enter into holy orders, he determined to prosecute his studies in the country with their worthy curate, Mr. Grant, a gentleman of great learning, piety, and worth.

This arrangement was greatly to the satisfaction of his uncle, though G.o.dfrey shook his shoulders, and muttered that it would be "Confounded dull work."

"I must introduce you, boys, to our new neighbors," said the Colonel, next morning, at breakfast. "But mind that you don't pull caps for Miss Whitmore, our charming young heiress."

"Who the deuce is she?" asked G.o.dfrey.

"You knew that our poor old friend Henderson, of Hazelwood Lodge, was dead?"

"Dead! Why when did he die?" said G.o.dfrey. "You never wrote us a word about it."

"Well, I thought I had. He died two months ago, and his property fell to a very distant relation. A captain in the navy. A man of small family and substantial means, who keeps a fine stud, a capital table, and a cross old maid, his sister, to superintend his household and take care of his daughter."

"And the young lady?"

"Is a beautiful simple-hearted girl; rather romantic, and the very reverse of the old maid. Aunt Dorothy is all ginger and vinegar. Niece Juliet, like fine Burgundy, sparkling with life and animation."

"By Jove! Anthony, good news for us. I give you warning, mister parson, that I mean to pa.s.s away the time in this dull place by making love to Miss Whitmore. So don't attempt to poach on my manor."

"That's hardly fair, G.o.dfrey. You ought to allow your cousin an equal chance."

"The young lady will herself make the chances equal," said Anthony, with a quiet smile. "For my own part, I feel little interest in the subject, and never yet saw the woman with whom I would wish to pa.s.s my life. To me the pa.s.sion of love is unknown. G.o.dfrey, on the contrary, professes to be in love with every pretty girl he sees."

"There's no doubt that I shall win the lady," cried G.o.dfrey. "Women are not so fond of quiet, sentimental, learned young gentlemen, like Anthony; his heart partakes too much of the cold tough nature of his father's to make a good lover. While he talks sense to the maiden aunt, I shall be pouring nonsense into the young lady's ears--nursing her lap-dog, caressing her pony, writing amatory verses in her sc.r.a.p-book,"

(alb.u.ms were not then in fashion,) "and losing no opportunity of insinuating myself into her good graces."

CHAPTER VIII.

I see no beauty in this wealthy dame; 'Neath the dark lashes of her downcast eyes A weeping spirit lurks. And when she smiles, 'Tis but the sunbeams of an April day, Piercing a watery cloud.--S.M.

"So Colonel Hurdlestone's son and nephew arrived at the Hall last night.

Reach me down Juliet's portfolio, Dorothy; I must write the good Colonel a congratulatory note," said Captain Whitmore to his solemn-faced sister.

The Captain was a weather-beaten stout old gentleman, who had seen some hard service during the war, and what with wounds, hard-drinking, and the gout, had been forced to relinquish the sea, and anchor for life in the pretty village of Norgood, where he held property, through the death of the rich Mr. Henderson, to a considerable amount. His wife had been dead for some years, and his only daughter, whom he scarcely suffered out of his sight, was educated at home, under the superintendence of her aunt, who professed to be the most accomplished, as she certainly was the most disagreeable, woman in the world.

"I think, Captain Whitmore, you had better defer your congratulations until you see what sort of persons these young men are. Mrs. Grant a.s.sured me yesterday that one of these gentlemen is very wild. Quite a profligate."

"Fiddlesticks!" said the jolly Captain, snapping his fingers. "I know what young men are. A gay dashing lad, I suppose, whose hot blood and youthful frolics old maiden ladies construe into the most awful crimes."

"Old maiden ladies, sir! Pray whom do you mean to insult by that gross appellation?"

"Gross! I always thought that maiden was a term that implied virgin innocence and purity, whether addressed to the blithe la.s.s of sixteen, or the antiquated spinster of forty," returned the provoking sailor, with a knowing glance.

"I hate your vulgar insinuations," said Miss Dorothy, her sharp nose flushing to a deep red. "But how can one expect politeness from a sea monster?"

"Ha! ha! ha!" shouted the Captain. "Never mind, Dolly, don't give way to temper, and curl up that bowsprit of yours with such a confounded ugly twist. There may be a chance yet. Let me see. I don't think that you are fifty-four. My nurse, Betty Holt, was called an old maid for thirty years, and married at last."

"I wonder, brother, that you are not ashamed of naming me and that low-born person in the same breath. As to matrimony, I despise the male s.e.x too much to degrade myself by entering upon it."

"It would have sweetened your temper amazingly," said the Captain, re-filling his pipe. "I believe, Dorothy, you were never put to the trial?"

"You know that I refused at least a dozen offers."

"Whew! I never heard a word about them before."

Miss Dorothy knew that she was telling a great fib; and she drew herself up with increased dignity. "You were at sea, sir."

"So, I suppose," drawing a long whiff from his pipe, "I must have been a great way off; and these same offers must have been made a long time ago."

"I could marry yet, if I pleased!" screamed the indignant spinster.

"Doubtful. And pray who is the happy man?"