The Weird of the Wentworths, Vol. 1

e, ladies, s

rs ever."-Much a

rt they hurry me,

smile from me, they

il

well, and feeling it was a higher tone of society than he had been accustomed to, he had, naturally enough, cut all his old acquaintances and playmates; and now that the De Veres were gone he was left doubly lone, and much in the position of the jackdaw with borrowed plumes, unable to associate with those to whom he aspired, and in ill favour with those whom he cast off in his pride. So Johnny was thrown much more on his own resources, and, like his sister, his memory of past joys could ill atone for present miseries. It is a bad thing to be forced to live on the past. The mind becomes ill-directed, and it is a kind of mental backsliding. Careless of the future, forgetful of the present grows such a mind: it is like the antiquary groping in the ruins of old, and never allowing his eye to rest on the palaces of the modern time. Such was the case with these two. Their father had returned to the dull routine of every-day life; and though he had enjoyed the past, now that it was gone, he was too busy to give more than a passing thought to it. But Ellen passed the time in vain attempts to recall and revivify the days gone by; and Johnny, when not actually at his lessons, was wont to let his mind run on the days at the Towers, his drives and his amusements, and this was invariably the topic of their conversation when they got together, utterly upsetting all useful employment, and unhinging their minds for life's real duties. Time fled by on silent wing, and soon three weeks had almost imperceptibly glided away, and yet they had had no sort of intelligence of their friends, except the bald paragraphs that occasionally told their whereabouts, in the papers. One evening, however, the postman brought a letter addressed in the Earl's own handwriting to Ellen. For a moment her excitement was so great that she could hardly break the seal, and thousands of conjectures passed rapidly through her mind. She tore it open,-there was no letter from the Earl, but an announcement of the Marquis and Marchioness of Arranmore's marriage. It was certainly a disappointment, for Ellen had expected little short of a long and loving epistle; but still it proved one gran

d to draw her breath. The eloquence of that silent suffering was awful; the stillness was the stillness of death,-no

that she was yet unconscious of all its depth and all her loss; and so at first he spoke not

great trial; God give

be praised! it had not, and in a voice-how unlike her usual silvery tone! she said, "Yes, papa, I am stunned,-stupefied

ot warn you, dearest,-

lly! Oh, it was cruel to raise hopes only to quench them! I am desolate. It is

will heal your wound; he wa

se! Eternity can never heal that wound,-but speak not so of him! He h

is only excitement; try and

! My eyeballs seem of flame,-they are bursting out of my head! My brain seems on fire!

nd weep if you can; think of something

stunned; but when Nature's soft relief came,-when the tears fell,-the storm

o one; let me bear my misery alone,"

w sustained her wonderfully; still, her grief was too deep for tears-and, tearless in the midst of her anguish, she was able to go through all the duti

she heard not, she saw as though she did not see; and when she left her asleep, how she envied th

pressed her hand, and with tears in hi

ed child, and make all wor

nd whisper

egan to believe its reality. She threw herself on her couch;-what was it glistened by her? Something fell,-it was

ce to escape her. It seemed emblematical of her condition,-forsaken by him she loved so well, and now forsaken by his gift. The ring, as it lay there, seemed to say "the last link is broken!" She picked it up; for on

!" said the unhappy girl; "

thlessness; the words "Hope on" seemed to mock her woe. The fire was there; what

to see him-I may live to show it to him! he may yet return-may yet live to bind the heart he has broken

e gaud in her bosom, and some

aking up of ice in the Northern ocean; like the sudden thaw after a long winter of snow,-prognostic only of a worse storm to come. And so it was with Ellen; the sudden relief given by tears was too much for her mind. For a moment she felt the load gone,-the next, and all came back, and her mind began to wander. She was at the Towers; by her side stood her lover;-he told his love, and asked her

ind going? She knew something was wrong, but had forgotten what it was; and now she felt chill, and now burning hot, her pulse throbbed, her heart fluttered: what was the matter?-was she ill, dying? She had asked for death,-was it come? She stretched out her hand to ring the bell-where was it?-ah, here it is!-she rung it violently, and overpowered by her exertion, sunk back on her pillow. Was it a dream again in which she saw her father st

a moment she was in a high brain-fever; the disease was raging and burning fiercer every moment, an

t ten days delirium had wildly triumphed; and in her fits she would often repeat the names of "Wentworth," "L'Estrange." Aft

cal hour approached-the crisis came! In one hour it

favourable symptoms were observed, and for the first time the sufferer slept, he fell on his knee

pressed it, faintly indeed, but he felt it. She could not speak, so weakened had the fever left her. Oh! had Lord Wentworth seen his Ellen then!-would he have known her? She was the mere shadow of the beautiful girl into whose han

save her; if she is to live

ed white arm!-it would have made a faithless lover start to have beheld the wreck of loveline

nger, the first words she wh

is th

e, sweet;

hank

ve less of earth-to be of a higher, more heavenly tint! Time, the restorer, gave back her health; but Time, restorer though he be, had not given back her peace of mind; her heart ached yet; the void of lost love was an "aching void" still. But another and greater change had passed over Ellen Ravensworth,-her character was softened down

of woe was passed, the first poignancy dulled, and that she would yet forget. Ah! how little he knew Ellen; she might wish to die-but forget, even wish to forget, she could not. The wound was still unhealed; every thought tore it open to bleed afresh: she hugged the grief to her heart; and though it stung her, she pressed it the closer! But there was another change this disappointment and illness had wrought. Ellen's mother had been a pious mother, and, while she was spared to Ellen, had piously brought her up. The bread cast on the waters was found after many days; the good seed, sown by a praying hand in early years, was still qui

llowed

man's hear

votion and secret incense; but it was no longer the all-absorbing passion; chastened down

in the sleigh. Then the snow was white-now April's sunshine and showers began to make everything green and spring-like. Ah! t

anish old griefs from her mind, and drown her sorrow; so he decided on following their advice, and began to prepare for their departure. As there were then no steamboats and railroads, Mr. Ravensworth decided on travelling by posting, and procured an excellent courier through Mr. Lennox. This courier was to meet them in London, and they determined on travelling thither by t