The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 305: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

802 THE CHILD OF WATERLOO, as merry as you please, and how you please; you have ample means below.” With this generous hint, Rafferty quitted the wedding party, and each retired, and the day passed off happily. CHAPTER LIV. AND now let us imagine three months to have elapsed, and look again at the young and beautiful bride, to see if she is happy. ; t is a pleasant evening, and the shadows of the tall trees that are in front of Morton Lodge are thrown far across the beautiful n sward, where, upon some rustic chairs, sit a happy party. e will look into the face of the young bride, and we shall see at a glance that it is beaming with contentment. There is a uiet, placid look of domestic happiness about the whole group, that is rarely seen; and most worthy would it have been of the pencil of some gifted lover of his art and of humanity, to paint that happy group, as there, in gentle converse, which, in the even- ing air, sounded scarce above a whisper, they passed a pleasant hour, ere the night closed in, and told them to seek the indoor enjoy ments of the mansion. Captain Morton and his wife were walking to and fro, convers- ing together; while Henry, as he leaned over the back of the chair on which Mabel sat, was bringing to her mind recollections of the past. ‘Does it not seem, dear Mabel, long, long ago since we were separated, and the envious fates appeared forever to have con- spired against us ?” ‘It does, indeed, Henry; and this season of joy and tranquil- lity which we have passed, appears to have cast something of the halo of its own beauty over those events which preceded it.” ‘‘It is so with myself, Mabel, and a happy thing is it that we forget suffering quicker than we forget joy. The reminiscences of happiness will cling to us when the remembrance of grief holds in the chambers of our brain but a dim and shadowy ex- istence.” ‘It is so, Henry, it is so; and yet there are times even now, when I look back with something of a shudder, and wonder how I had the resolution and the courage to bear up against the trials that beset me.” ‘‘In many minds, dear Mabel—and I can well perceive yours to be one of them—there is a natural capacity to find sufficient energy to meet the occasion, and that strength, energy, and courage, comes but with the occasion. We cannot imagine its existence, although we may imagine the incident that would call it forth.” “‘T understand you, Henry; and thus it is we shudder at things which, when they happen, we meet gallantly and cour- ageously.” ‘“‘'Yes, Mabel: imagination, as well as conscience, doth make cowards of us all.” Mabel was silent for a few moments, and then she said, gently: comicbooks. com