The Monctons Volume Ii Part 1

The Monctons.

by Susanna Moodie.

Volume 2.

CHAPTER I.

"The next day, my friend bade us adieu. Had he expressed the least wish to that effect, I would have accompanied him to the South--but he did not, and we parted, never to meet again. He died abroad, and Charlotte became the inheritor of his large fortune. Her grief for the loss of her brother affected her health and spirits to such an alarming degree, that instant change of air and scene was recommended by her physician, and she left London to spend some months with her aunt on the Continent. I would have gladly made one in their party, but this she forbade me to do in the most positive terms.

"I fancied that her manner to me had grown cold and distant during the separation which had intervened between her brother's death and the severe illness that followed the announcement of that melancholy event. These fears were confirmed by a long and very prudential letter from her aunt, entreating me, as a mutual friend, not to follow them to Italy, as it might be attended by unpleasant results to Miss Laurie, who was still very young--too young, in her estimation, to acknowledge publicly an accepted lover; that as no actual engagement existed between us, she thought it most advisable for both parties only to regard each other in the light of friends, until the expiration of the time which would make Miss Laurie the mistress of her hand and fortune. It was impossible to mistake the purport of this letter, which I felt certain must have been sanctioned by her niece.

Then, and not until then was I fully aware of all that I had lost by the death of my poor friend.

"Charlotte had repented of her affection for the low-born Philip Mornington. She was a great heiress now, and a match for the first n.o.bleman in the kingdom. I crushed the letter beneath my feet, and felt within my breast the extinction of hope.

"I suspected that Robert Moncton and his son were at the bottom of this unexpected movement; nor was I mistaken. It was strange, that among the whole range of my acquaintance, I had never been introduced to this rascal and his son, or met him accidentally at any place of public resort. They effectually worked my ruin, but it was in the dark.

"The loss of Charlotte made me reckless of the future. I plunged headlong into all sorts of dissipation: wine, women, the turf, the gaming-table, by turns intoxicated my brain, and engrossed my time and thoughts, until repeated losses to an alarming amount, made me restless and miserable, without in the least checking the growing evil. I had forfeited self-respect, and with it the moral courage to resist temptation.

"I was goaded on in my career of guilt by a young man of fascinating person and manners, but of depraved habits and broken fortunes. From the first night that I was introduced to William Howard, he expressed for me the deepest respect and friendship, and haunted me subsequently like my shadow. He flattered my vanity by the most sedulous attentions, echoed my sentiments, hung upon my words, copied my style of dress, and imitated my manners.

"These arts might have failed in producing the desired effect, had he not wound himself into my confidence, by appearing to sympathize in my mental sufferings. He talked of Charlotte, and endeavoured to soothe my irritated feelings, by expressing the most sanguine hopes of my ultimate success; and, to dissipate the melancholy that preyed upon my health and spirits, he led me by degrees to mix with the reckless and profligate, and to find pleasure in the society of individuals whom I could not respect, and from whose proximity a few months before I should have shrunk with disgust and aversion.

"A young fellow just beyond his minority is easily led astray, particularly, when he has wealth at his command, and no settled employment or profession to engage his time and thoughts, and worse still, with no religious principles to guide him in his perilous voyage across the treacherous ocean of life.

"Alas! Geoffrey; I chose for my pilot one who had not only ruined himself, but caused the shipwreck of others, superior in prudence and intelligence; to the man who now trusted to his advice and believed him a friend.

"When I look back to that disastrous period of my life, my soul shrinks within itself, and I lament my madness with unceasing bitterness. All that I have since suffered, appears but a just retribution for those three years of vice and folly. Little did I then suspect, that my quondam friend was an infamous sharper, bribed by the still more infamous Robert Moncton to lure me to destruction.

"In spite of her aunt's prohibition, I had continued to write to Miss Laurie; at first, frequently, seldom many days elapsing between letter and letter, but to my surprise and indignation, not one of my communications had been answered, although breathing the most ardent attachment, and dictated by a pa.s.sion as sincere as ever animated a human breast. What could be the cause of this cruel neglect? I called repeatedly at Mrs. ----'s house in town, but was constantly told by the old housekeeper, who received me very coldly, that Miss Laurie and her aunt were still on the continent.

"As long as this miserable state of uncertainty continued, I clung to hope, and maintained the character of a man of honour and a gentleman.

But the insidious tempter was ever at hand, to exaggerate my distress, and to weaken my good resolutions. Howard laughed at my constancy to a false mistress, and by degrees, led me to consider myself as a very ill-used man, and Miss Laurie as a heartless coquette.

"Two years had elapsed since the death of Cornelius; and I was just ready to accompany a party of gay young fellows to Newmarket, when I was told accidentally, that Miss Laurie, the great heiress, had arrived in town, and the young men were laughing and speculating upon the chance of winning her and her fortune.

"'They say she's a beauty!' cried one.

"'Beauty won't pay debts,' said another. 'I can't afford to marry for love.'

"'A plain girl with her property is sure to be handsome. Beauty and gold are too much to fall to the share of one person. I dare say, she's only pa.s.sable.'

"'Sour grapes, Hunter,' said Howard. 'You know that you are such a ---- ugly fellow, that no woman, with or without a fortune would take you for better or worse.'

"'_Better_ is out of the question, Howard, and he can't be well worse,' said the first speaker. 'But I should like to know if Miss Laurie is really the beauty they say she is. Money is a thing to possess--to enjoy--to get rid of. But beauty is a divinity. I may covet the one--I adore the other.'

"'You may do both then, at a humble distance, George. But here's Philip Mornington, can satisfy all your queries--he knows, and used to feel an interest in the young lady.'

"To hear her name in such company, was to me profanation. I made some ungracious reply to what I considered an impertinent observation of Howard's, and feigning some improbable excuse for absenting myself from the party, I turned my horse's head and rode back to my lodgings, in spite of several large bets that I had pending upon a favorite horse.

"Charlotte was in London, and I could not rest until I had learned my fate from her own lips. I hastened to her aunt's residence; and, contrary to my expectations, on sending up my card, I was instantly admitted to her presence.

"She was alone in the drawing-room. The slight girl of seventeen was now a beautiful and graceful woman; intelligence beaming from her eyes, and the bloom of health upon her cheek. As I approached the table at which she was seated, she rose to meet me, and the colour receded so fast from her face that I feared she would faint, and instead of addressing me with her usual frankness, she turned away her head and burst into tears.

"You may imagine my distress: I endeavoured to take her hand, but she drew proudly back.

"'Is this Charlotte?'

"'Rather let me ask--is this Philip Mornington, my brother's friend?'

she spoke with a degree of severity which astonished me--'the man for whom I once entertained the deepest respect and affection.'

"'Which implies that you do so no longer?'

"'You have rightly guessed.'

"'And may I ask Miss Laurie why she has seen fit to change the opinion she once entertained?'

"'Mr. Mornington,' said she, firmly, repressing the emotion which convulsed her lips and glistened in her eyes, 'I have long wished to see you, to hear from your own lips an explanation of your extraordinary conduct, and though this meeting must be our last, I could not part with you for ever, until I had convinced you that the separation was effected by yourself.'

"'It will be difficult to prove that,' said I, 'if you really sanctioned your aunt's letter, and were privy to its contents.'

"'It was written at my request,' she replied, with provoking coldness.

'Mr. Moncton's suspicions were aroused, and your following us to the continent would have confirmed them, and rendered us both miserable.

But my motives for requesting a temporary separation, were fully discussed in my letter which accompanied the one written by my aunt.

To this reasonable request you returned no answer, nor, in fact, to several subsequent letters which were written during our absence abroad.'

"I trembled with agitation while she was speaking, and I fear that she misinterpreted my emotion.

"'Good Heavens!' I exclaimed at last, 'how grossly have I deceived myself into the belief that you never wrote to me--that you cast me from you without one word of pity or remorse. I never got a line from you, Charlotte. Your aunt's cruel letter came only too soon, and was answered too promptly; and to the many I have written to you since, you did not deign a reply.'

"'They never reached us, Mr. Mornington; and it is strange that these letters (which to me were, at least, matters of no small importance) should be the only ones among the numbers addressed to us by other friends, which miscarried.'

"I was stung by the incredulous air with which she spoke: it was so unlike my own simple, frank-hearted Charlotte.

"'Miss Laurie, you doubt my word?'

"'A career of vice and folly, Mr. Mornington, has made me doubt your _character_. While I could place confidence in the _one_, I never suspected deceit in the other.'

"'Your silence, Charlotte, drove me to desperation, and involved me in the dissipation to which you allude.'

"'A man of integrity could not so easily be warped from the path of duty:' she said this proudly. 'I can no longer love one whom I have ceased to respect, whose conduct, for the last two years, has made me regret that we ever met.'

"'You are too severe, Miss Laurie,' and I felt the blood rush to my face. 'You should take into account all I have suffered for your sake.'

"'You found a strange method of alleviating those sufferings, Philip.'

This was said sadly, but with extreme bitterness. 'Had you loved or cherished me in your memory, you never could have pursued a course of conduct so diametrically opposite to my wishes.'

"This was a home-thrust. I felt like a guilty and condemned creature, debased in my own eyes, and humbled before the woman I adored.