The brother and sister then talked over other circ.u.mstances connected with their affairs. Charles asked whether any new plan was in view for the girls to earn a little more money. Jane smiled, and said that Isabella had not been idle, but that what she had attempted was yet unfinished, and that if Charles had not visited them, he would have known nothing of the matter till the work was completed. The thing was this: a French lady who had been staying at Mr Everett's in the autumn, had shewn Jane an elegant little French work on plants. A variety of flowers were arranged according to various peculiarities, which had caused them to be adopted as emblems, some of royalty, others of natural or moral qualities, etcetera. There were plates of many of the flowers, some well executed, others very indifferently. It struck Jane at once that Isabella might translate this work, and she borrowed it of the French lady, that they might examine it at home. They thought, on close examination, that the work might be improved in the translation: that various floral emblems might be added, and that drawings, very superior to the plates of the work, might increase its value. When Jane returned the book, she asked its owner whether it had been translated into English. The reply was, that the original work had only been published a few weeks, and could not yet be well known in England. This determined Isabella at once to make the trial. The drawings were the most important and the most difficult part; but by the interest and a.s.sistance of a few friends, Isabella obtained access to some excellent botanical works and plates. Many, indeed most of the flowers, she was able to draw from nature during the eight months that the work was in progress; and where the flowers were so rare as to be out of her reach altogether, there was nothing to be done but to copy from the plates of the original work. With the translation she took great pains, and here Jane helped her. Jane had an excellent and well-cultivated taste, and she was therefore well fitted to judge of style, and she a.s.sisted Isabella to re-write and polish her translation, till no foreign idiom could be detected, and till there was no trace of the stiffness or poverty which characterises most versions from the French. When this was done, Jane, who wrote a much better hand than Isabella, transcribed it, by degrees, as the drawings were finished, one by one, so that the work was complete as far as it went. At this time, only four drawings and about twelve pages of copying remained to be done, and then it was to try its fate in the hands of a London bookseller.

Charles was delighted with the plan, as Jane described it; but she would not let him see the work till Isabella was present. She said that if it did not answer she should be quite grieved, for that it had been the object of chief interest to Isabella for many months, and she had been unwearied in her application to it during all her leisure hours in that time. They could form no idea of the sum it ought to bring them; but Jane said she would not take less than ten guineas, and she hoped for more. Charles shook his head, and was afraid she expected too much; but he promised to take charge of it when he returned, if it could be finished by that time, and to do all in his power to dispose of it advantageously. He then enquired whether the five guineas which they had already earned remained untouched; and on being told that it was to lie by till they were rich enough to purchase a piano, or till some unforeseen emergency should call it into use, he presented his own five pound note to Jane to add to the little fund.

Jane was most unwilling to receive the fruits of his labour and self-denial; but she knew that he spoke the truth when he said that no other use to which he could apply it would give him half so much pleasure. It gave him pleasure, he said, to think that they had a little sum of their own to go to, instead of having to apply to their friends in case of sickness, family mourning, or any other incidental expense likely to occur in a family consisting of several members, and widely, though distantly, connected with many more. "It is not being over-prudent, Jane; it is not being worldly-minded, I hope, to think in this way, is it?"

"I think not," replied Jane. "I am often afraid of becoming so, I a.s.sure you, and I try to keep this fear in mind from day to day. At present, however, we have been led on so easily, our path has been so smoothed for us, that it seems hardly possible that we should be unmindful _who_ it is that has disposed all things for us. _Now_ I am reminded, day by day, how grateful I ought to be: if I become worldly, it will more probably be when I have greater labours and anxieties to undergo. If we can meet in this way, dear Charles, from time to time, it will be as strong a safeguard against worldliness as we can have."

In the course of the morning Charles called on his Quaker travelling companion, and gave him an account of the night which he had pa.s.sed with poor Monteath, and of the circ.u.mstances under which he had left his charge. The excellent man was much interested, and said he wished that he could himself have remained, and saved Charles the pain of these anxious hours.

"My wife," said he, "was saved much fear by my speedy arrival, I hope thy friends had no fear for thee?"

"My sisters," replied Charles, "were not aware of my journey, as it fortunately happened."

"And thy father and mother: hadst thou not a father and mother to await thy arrival?"

Charles shortly explained his family circ.u.mstances.

"Thy sister must have a strong mind, like thine, to conduct a household, and to employ herself in another responsible situation also; considering that she is yet young. Thou wilt come again?" said he, seeing that Charles was preparing to depart, "thou wilt come again? Uncommon circ.u.mstances have made us acquainted, and I should be unwilling to discontinue our acquaintance, as it may be pleasant to both of us."

Charles promised to call again.

"My wife, as I told thee, is ill," said Mr Franklin, (for that was his name,) "and therefore cannot go to see thy sister; but if thou wilt take thy tea with us to-morrow, and if thy sister will disregard ceremony, and come with thee, we shall be glad."

Charles accepted the invitation with great pleasure, as he thought that this respectable family might prove pleasant and valuable friends to Jane.

He next called on Mr Barker, who was not a little astonished at the sight of him. Charles told him that Jane and he were anxious to have his advice on the important subject of Mrs Rathbone's letter. Mr Barker promised to devote the first leisure time he had to them.

Charles next called at Mr Monteath's door, to enquire concerning his friend; but no account had arrived, or was expected before the evening.

When the messenger arrived, he brought a favourable report. The patient was easy, and all was going on right. He sent, by his mother's letter, an affectionate message to Charles, and said, he hoped by the time his father returned to Exeter to be able to write a note himself to his friend.

Mr Barker called in the evening to see Mrs Rathbone's letter respecting Alfred, and to consult with Jane and her brother on the subject. They plainly told him their feelings upon it, their dislike to the military profession, especially.

Mr Barker was silent, and looked thoughtful.

"Are we wrong, Sir?" asked Charles. "Have we got high-flown or mistaken notions about this? or is it presumptuous in us, who are so poor, and under great obligations, to affect a choice for our brother?"

"No, my dear boy; none of these. I was silent because I was thinking of a sad story, and wondering whether I should tell it you. Have you quite made up your minds to reject Mr Rathbone's offer?"

"That depends on your opinion," said Jane. "If you shew us that Charles's ideas of the hazard and probable misery of such a destination, are mistaken, we must deliberate further: but if what I have heard be true, I would as soon see Alfred in his coffin as incur so fearful a responsibility."

"I think what Charles has said is all true: but, my dears, you must prepare yourselves for something which will be to you very terrible."

"Mr Rathbone's displeasure," said Charles. "I feared that: but grateful as we are and ought to be for his most disinterested generosity to us, we ought to look on his gifts as curses, if they take from us the liberty of unbia.s.sed choice, where the moral welfare of a brother is in question."

"Say so in your reply to him, Charles."

"But it may be," said Jane, "that he will not be displeased. We take for granted much too readily, I think, that he will misunderstand us."

"Mr Rathbone's temper is peculiar," replied Mr Barker. "A somewhat haughty spirit was rendered imperious by the power and rank he possessed in India. Considering this, it is wonderful that he should retain so generous a disposition as his is; but every one knows, and Charles himself must have observed, that he cannot bear to be opposed, especially in any scheme of benevolence."

Jane sighed. "At any rate," said she, "he cannot prevent our being grateful for what he has done, and for his present kind intentions. It is hard to be obliged to estrange such a friend, but it would be harder still to devote Alfred to danger, and to temptations stronger than we dare encounter ourselves."

"The estrangement will not be your work, but his own, Jane: that is, if you write such a letter as I expect you will. Do not let your fear of offending cramp your expression. Speak your grat.i.tude freely, and also your resolution of independence. Write as freely as you have been speaking to me."

"May I shew you my letter, Sir, and have your opinion of it?" asked Jane.

"By all means," replied Mr Barker, "and the sooner it is done the better."

"We have been saved much pain," said Charles, "by your entire agreement with us. I thought you would think as we did; but yet it is generally believed a very fine thing to get a young man out to India."

"It is," said Mr Barker: "and in my young days a brother of my own was sacrificed to this mistaken belief. So you will not wonder that I view the matter in the same light as you do. It is a very common story. He left home as good and promising a youth as could be, but too young.

Fine visions of wealth and grandeur floated before him: poor fellow! he desired them more for his family than for himself when he set out on his career; but his affections gradually cooled as time rolled on, and the prospect of seeing his home again was still very distant. As he thought less of his family he thought more of himself, and gave more and more into habits of self-indulgence. He got money very fast, and occasionally sent some home, but squandered much more on his own pleasures. Then, as might be expected, his health failed: he dragged on a miserable existence for many months, till an attack of illness, which would formerly have been overcome in two days' time, carried him off, a feeble and unresisting prey. He was thought to have left a large property, but it could never be got at; and I have heard my poor father say that he was glad we never had a farthing of it, for it would have seemed to him the price of blood. It was a mistake, however, and only a mistake; for his welfare was the object of his parents: but it was a mistake whose consequences weighed them down with sorrow to their dying days."

After Mr Barker was gone, this little family gathered together to close the day with an hour of pleasant intercourse. Isabella's work was produced, and extremely did Charles admire it. "Will it bring her ten guineas?" asked Jane.

"Twenty, or nothing," said Charles. "Only, I am no judge of these things. You must get it done for me to take back with me, Isabella."

Isabella thought it was impossible she could have earned twenty guineas so easily. Not very easily, Charles thought: the leisure hours of eight months had been spent upon this, and great efforts of perseverance and resolution had been required. Add to this, the uncertainty and delay and hazard which she yet had to encounter, and he thought that twenty guineas was no more than a sufficient recompense. He told her that all would not be over when the work was finished, but that she might have to wait many months before she knew its fate, and it was even very possible that it might remain on her hands. Isabella, however, had made up her mind to be patient and to hope for the best.

When they separated for the night, Jane whispered to her brother,--"Yes, we will keep together and be happy. Better is poverty in this house, than wealth in India." Charles kissed her in sign of agreement.

The next morning Jane sat down to write her letter, with her brother by her side. He approved the simple account which she gave of their feelings and opinions upon the important matter, and made her add, that she and her brother had the sanction of Mr Barker's experienced judgment. Mr Barker had given her permission to say this, and when Charles shewed him the letter, he approved the whole of it, and it was therefore sealed and dispatched. Jane endeavoured to forget her fears about the answer, and determined to bear it patiently, whatever it might be, knowing that she had acted to the best of her judgment. During the walk which she afterwards took with her brother she forget this subject and every other, for he told her over again, and more completely, the history of the night he had pa.s.sed with poor Monteath. On their return home they made enquiry again at Mr Monteath's door, and heard that the young man was going on so well, that his father would return to Exeter in two days.

Charles heard from Mr Franklin that evening some further particulars respecting Monteath's family, and respecting himself. He was in business with his father, and had lately become a partner. They were not supposed to be rich, but were universally esteemed for their integrity. There were several sisters, one older, and the rest younger than their brother; but he was the only brother, and the pride and delight of the family. The good Quaker was evidently affected when he spoke of the sorrow which this sad accident had brought among them, and yet more when he spoke of an attachment which was supposed to exist between Monteath and a young lady who was at present staying with his sisters. Mr Franklin had been at the house that morning, and the young ladies had expressed in strong terms their grat.i.tude to Charles, and the desire they had to see this friend of their brother. When their father returned they hoped to be able to shew that they were not insensible and ungrateful. Mr Franklin told them that Charles was to be at his house that evening, and he promised to take him to call, if he would be induced to go. Charles only thought himself too much honoured for what he believed any one of common humanity would have done in his circ.u.mstances, and he accordingly left Jane with Mrs Franklin, and accompanied his friend to Mr Monteath's. He saw the two eldest ladies, but not their friend, which he was glad of, for he would have found himself tongue-tied before her.

The wish of the young ladies was to learn, as distinctly as possible, every thing that pa.s.sed on that terrible night; and Charles related, with perfect simplicity, every circ.u.mstance, except one or two, which he thought would affect their feelings too deeply. He could not help expressing his admiration of the rational and manly courage with which his friend had met so sudden a misfortune.

"We were not surprised at this," said his sister: "we always believed that our brother's strength of mind would prove equal to any occasion, however he might be tried."

"And now," replied Charles, "it has been proved that you were right; and you have the comfort of knowing that he is equal to any trial, for none can now befall him more sudden and more terrible."

"No, indeed," replied Miss Monteath; and she pa.s.sed her hand over her eyes, as if the thoughts of her brother's misfortune were too painful to be borne.

"I mean," continued Charles, "more terrible _at the time_: for though you will not now be inclined to agree with me perhaps, I do not think it will prove a very great lasting misfortune. I have known many instances of similar deprivations, where usefulness and activity have been very little if at all impaired."

Miss Monteath shook her head.

"I incline to think that my young friend is right," said Mr Franklin.

"I believe that the worst is over with thy brother and with his friends.

When he becomes accustomed to his new feelings, when he finds that art affords valuable helps to repair an accident like this, when he finds that he can pursue his usual employments without impediment, and that the affection of his friends, especially of the nearest and dearest, is enhanced by sympathy and approbation, I will even say admiration, dost thou not think that he will be happy? I think he may be quite as happy as he has ever been."

"There is one thing more that you have not mentioned," said Miss Monteath, "the acquisition of a new friend."

"True," said the Quaker, "of a friend whose faithfulness was singularly proved during the first hours of intercourse."

Charles became anxious to change the subject, and asked Miss Monteath whether she had any idea how soon her brother would be able to return home.

"Not for five or six weeks at the soonest," she said; and, after a few more enquiries, Charles rose to take his leave.