Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 26: what you’re looking at

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ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTBESS. 13 there. She asked me numerous questions: she! brown eyes. His forehead was high and smooth, bade me describe the man according to the|and shining with the light of intelligence. In minutest details that were in my recollection—his | figure he was slender, upright as a dart, and with features, his height, his age, the tone of his voice, | a lithe elasticity of form that was perfectly con- everything that I could possibly remember con- cerning him. Then Mrs. Wakefield fell into a profound reverie; and for some minutes was she absorbed in this meditation, which was evidently of a painful character. At length, when I hoped and expected that she would volunteer some expla- nation as to what she might happen to know or as to what she thought or surmised, she abruptly said, “Let us speak no more upon the subject now, dear Ellen! We must wait till after the funeral of the deceased Mrs. Parks, and see what she has done for you—if anything—in her will.” Three days afterwards the obsequies took place ; and then came the reading of the will. Mr. Parks, his wife, three or four of his grown-up sons, my aunt, and myself, were present in the drawing- room, besides a solicitor who had made the will ; for Parks himself had not, as it appeared, drawn up the document, though he was no doubt per- fectiy well aware of its contents. It bequeathed everything to him, my name being only mentioned in connexion with some few trinkets belonging to the deceased, and which were to be given me “ as memorials of the regard she had entertained for me.” The ceremony was over: Mrs. Wakefield and I were again alone together. “Ttis as I feared, my dear child,” said my aunt : “my worst anticipations have been realized. But it is useless to reflect upon the past—equally use- less to make any comments upon the conduct of the dead. You shall now find a home with me; and though a humble one, you are nevertheless of a disposition that can content itself with these altered circumstances.” Many other kind things did Mrs. Wakefield say to me; and having taken leave of the Parks family as well as of my schoolmistress in the neighbour- hood of Chelsea, I accompanied my aunt to Shef- field. CHAPTER IV. THE ADVERTISEMENT. A FEW months afterwards Henry Wakefield left the Free School, and came -home for good. I was prepared, as he entered the house, to rush into his arms, as I had done at Leeds: but when he made his appearance before me, I was suddenly seized with timidity and confusion. I had for- gotten that it was no longer the boy whom I was to meet, but that it was a young man of nearly nineteen. And he himself seemed to be smitten with a similar feeling of bashfulness as his eyes settled upon me. How tall and handsome had he grown !—and how admirably did his personal ap- pearance fulfil all the promises of an earlier period ! There was still a certain softness in his masculine beauty : the classic features had lost none of their delicate outlines: the dark hair curled naturally | about the well-shaped head, as when in his boy- 4 OEY. sistent with manly elegance and grace. No wonder that his loving mother should have been proud of such a son ! There was, as I have said, a sudden bashfulness on the part of both Henry and myself as we thus met after a separation of nearly five years: but he was the first to conquer that awkwardness ; and embracing me, the words “Cousin Nelly ” again issued from his lips. Then he begar telling me how tall I had grown, and how surprised he at the first instant was at the change and improvement which had taken place in me—though, as he added with a smile, he ought to have anticipated both. I did not tell him that precisely the same thoughts had been revolving in my own mind in respect to himself; for there was still a certain timidity and bashfulness of feeling which I could not so readily overcome. Weeks passed by—they grew into months—and | the more I saw of my cousin, the better I liked him. His affection towards his mother—his bro- therly kindness towards myself, were never for au instant checked or ruffled by the slightest change of humour. He was cheerful without levity, and gay without thoughtlessness. His disposition was sanguine and enthusiastic: he longed to have an opportunity of entering upon some career in the great world, that he might exert all his energies and prove to his affectionate mother how anxious he was to get on. But it was not so easy to afford him this opening ; for Mrs. Wakefield knew not precisely in what profession to embark him, and he himself had no choice. He was in the habit of deferring to the opinion of his mother ; and she in this respect had none to give. She had no relatives to assist her with their counsel ; and the retired manner in which her circumstances had compelled her to live, had prevented her from maintaining an intimacy with the few friends she possessed at the time of her husband’s death. In a word, she had a son whose education fitted him for anything, but for whom she could no nothing. I saw that all this was beginning to prey upon my aunt’s mind; and one day, when alone with her, I took an opportunity of alluding to certain plans which had been for weeks in my thoughts. “Tt is time, my dear aunt,” I said, “that I should think of doing something for myself. I have received a good education—and—and—lI have entertained an idea I believe, in short, that I am fitted for a governess. I could begin asa nur- sery-governess, you know—with young children— and then, as I get on #: “ How can I suffer you to go out alone in the world, dear Ellen?” interrupted my aunt, caressing me affectionately. “And how can I continue a burden to your slender resources?’ I exclaimed, with tears in eyes. “No, no—Icannot! My cousin Harry i “Ah!” said my aunt, with a deep sigh; ‘‘if he were only provided for—if he could obtain some situation But you see, Ellen, there is no open- ing, unless it be as a junior clerk in some establish- hood I had admired it ; and there was a world of | ment—and then the salary is so small and the work intelligence and thought in the handsome dark | is so laborious——~” pr aE a ee CORNIECLOO@ SS Com