The Soldier's Wife — page 219: what you’re looking at

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

198 Inovemenits were languid, dull, heavy, and slow: pose,—were it not that he { her look was not exactly vacant—it was one of blank consternation and appalled dismay. Ano- ther long, long embrace did she bestow upon the boy: or rather she held him in her arms tightly clasped,—both still and motionless for It was like a statuary group many minutes, personify ing illimitable woe in the tenement of despair. Presently she moved again, one for herself, one for her son, bounty of Mrs. Selwyn. as life might last, would she wear aught save the widow’s weeds. Searcely was this toilet to commemorate the dead completed, when she heard a knock at the chamber-door. It had been preceded by the sounds of footsteps: but her ear had caught them not. Now she remembered that Mrs. Selwyn had on the previous day besought per- mission to pass this day with her—but that she had refused, observing that it was a day which she and her son must pass alone together. The same with the Sunday, when she would follow her husband’s remains to the grave. But she had promised that on the Monday she would receive her kind friend. Such was the arranye- ment; but now the idea occurred to her that Martha, contravening her wishes for the best and kindest purposes, had come nevertheless. In a voice that was deep, low, and solemn, she bade whoever it were to enter. The door opened slowly: Sir Archibald Redburn, accom- panied by a gentleman whom Lucy knew not, entered the chamber. Fora moment a look of unconguerable aversion flashed from her eyes as they encountered the features of the Baronet —the man who was the first perseeutor of her deceased hnsband—whose conduct, in depriving him of work, had proved the first link of the entire chain of calamities which had found an end this day at the muzzle of the soldiers’ muskets. And that man too—was he not the father of Gerald Redburn, who had been a still more rancorous persecutor of her husband ? Yes: and Lucy’s heart was warped, so that she could not be magnanimous any longer——but she would visit the sins of the son upon the father, as well as those of the father upon the son. Yet the look of aversion which she thus threw Wwpon the Baronet was only transient, though the feel- mg which prompted it remained: the next mo- ment her countenance settled down into the fixed expression of a sorrow so dreary and di-mal—so profound—that it was even beyoud despair itself. “Mrs, Lonsdale,” said the Baronet, in a ‘strange trembling voice, the accents of which appeared indeed a most melancholy corrobora- tion of the words he went on to utter,—* you sce before you a broken-hearted man—a man who would fly at once from the world——would bury himself in the solitude of his own chamber —who has no spirit left for any earthly pur- by any reproaches from my lips, — This time it Was to open a box and take forth two dresses— They were deep black—mourning garments, which she had been preparing for two days past, and for the possession of which she was indebted to the She apparelled her boy in his black raiment—she put on her own— aud she said to herself that never more, so long | THE SOLDIER’S WIFE. he had a duty to perform——a duty whieh n not be delayed another minute: and that duty has brought him hither. Mrs. Lonsdale,” he continued, in a tone of still deeper woe, “you see before you father who had just come from gazing on th corpse of his murdered son, and who feels thy it was a righteous retribution deereed by heave: itself! Yes—it isso, Gerald—the hope of n life--is no more! Iam childless—I am broker - hearted. But enough !—I come to offer you 4 home—a home for yourself—a home for your boy—a home where at least the cold hand of poverty will never more be laid upon your shoulders, and where those with whom you are to dwell, will surround you both with the kindest and terderest sympathies. Mrs, Lons- dale will you accept this home that I offer ?” But Luey gazed upon him as if she seareely understood what he meant. She had shuddered for an instant as he spoke of his murdered son and then she thought that she had not com pre- hended him—that she must be dreaming: and she looked as if she were so. “And I, Mrs. Lonsdale,” said the gentleman who accompanied the Baronet, “have come likewise to offer you ahome, You know me not—but when you du come to know me, you will learn that | am a man of honor—of a cer- tain social standing—and with high rank in. perspective. I have heard enough of your sad story to experience an immense interest on your behalf. In a short time I shall lead to the altar a young lady who possesses a heart that will cherish the kindest sympathies for you, Her home is not far distant; and thither do I offer to conduct you, in the full confidence that you will meet a cordial welcome. My nanie is Reginald Herbert: 1 am the nephew of Lord Stansfield; and it 1s to Clive Hall that I pur- pose to escort yourself and that sweet boy of your’s.” S. If Lucy had not comprehended all that the Baronet said,—not a single word on the other liand which Mr. Herbert had uttered, was lost upon her ; and she perceived by his tone, by. his look, and by his language, that Providence had sent her a generous friend in him, For the’ moment she was recalled as it were from the numbness of her sorrow to reflect that she her- self might not be long in this world, and that it would savor of ingratitude towards Heaven itself not to accept whatsoever bounties might be available for her son. She knew that the Selwyns, though comfortable in circumstances, were yet living by their own industry—and that she ought not to suffer herself and little Fre- derick to become burdens upon them: she feared, too, that notwithstanding her widow- hood and her son’s orphaned state, her own father’s door would continue closed against them, So her mind, having achieved this rapid survey of all circumstances during a brief in-. terval of remarkable clearness, was speedily made up. Rising from her seat, which she had hitherto maintained, she bent her looks upon the Baro- net and said, “Sir Archibald Redburn, if yeu are unhappy I will not add to your afflictions mn micboolk (E(0)