« PreviousContinue »
Smith, Sabina sat down on the married, and the married happy," humble grave, and gave free indulge desired Sabina. (to the no small conence to her imagination till the fusion of the poor girl) to pledge church clock struck" eight. She her. arose to return, and, lifting up her. Their companion, Mr.Hool, amuseyes, observed a tall, elegant look. ed them by singing several Irish songs, ing man, leaning on an opposite and relating many pleasant anecdotes tornb, whose attention was fixed on which had happened in his travels; her. She was embarassed, as she and while the good dame promust pass hin in her way to the nounced him the drollest of mortals, gate. He moved his hat, and ap- Sabina thought him the most acproaching her, said, 'Will you ex. complished of men. cuse a stranger's curiosity, madam? When they retired for the night Was the owner of that lowly bed My dear Mrs. Smith,' said Saknown to you?'
bina, 'I have been much surprised O yes,' said Sabina ; "the body this evening, and, though fattered of my mother, lies beneath this by your goodness and respect for stone.'
my dear mother's memory, am half 'Amiable miss Gayton !' cried the angry with you.' stranger, with vivacity, my heart, Angry, my child! what have I claims you for a friend. The worthy done to offend you ;' dame Smith has taught me to re • Do not talk of offending me, my verence the virtues of her who sleeps dear, good woman.-But why-why in peace - beneath the willow.
She did you put yourself to the expence has also taught me to love and ad-, of a stone? mire the character of her daughter, "O! is that all?-To be sure, I I presume you are going to Mrs. thought you left the five guineas in Smith's. Do me the honour of ac. the table-drawer for that purpose. cepting my arm.'
Shall the wicked and the worthless Sabina was, more and more em have marble monuments erected to barassed : not doubting but this was their meinory, and shall not a plain the handsome Irishman, and fearing stone point out the place where goodto provoke Mrs. Smith's mirth, byness and virtue sleep?" returning in company with the man Sabina could not sleep for thinkshe most wished to avoid-stammered ing of the goodness of Providence, out something, she scarce knew what in raising her up so true a friend. herself, and hurried on. When How vain, how foolish, thought they entered the little kitchen, the she, is it for mortals to trust in good woman held up her hands and riches or relations for comfort in eyes; but an imploring look from the hour of distress! Riches are Sabina returned that to her heart fleeting-relations are selfish; but which was springing to her lips, God can incline the heart of the
The kind soul had killed one of stranger to sooth the sinking spirits, her best fowls, which with a piece to pour balm on the wounded mind of her ham was soon set out on the of those who put their trust in him. table with much pride and pleasure ; • Nor was the person who occupied she declaring she had not felt so the next chamber more inclined to much happiness since the loss of her slumber. The charms of the unaspoor boy as she felt then. After suming orphan, the modesty of her supper, she drew a cork of her cure · deportment, the amiableness of her rani wine, and drinking the single character, had entered the heart of
the handsome Irishman, who was, No friends to consult, none to ofperhaps, as much pleased with Sa- fend. To my own exertions, my bina as even dame Smith herself own industry, I trust alone. Pro could wish.
vidence has hitherto blessed my enSabina continued with her friend deavours. I am partner (an under nearly six weeks, and then prepared one indeed at present), but in three for her journey to London, carrying years am entitled to a half of a flourishe a letter to a lady there from Mrs. ing linen establishment. I have no Smith, strongly recommending Sa- doubt of success. Would you, my. bina to her notice.
dear Sabina, consent to be mine, it On the morning of ber departure, would be a further incitement to inHool came into the little parlour dustry; and to render you, my sweet where Sabina was waiting for Mrs. girl, happy, would be the constant Smith.—You are going, Sabina,' endeavour of my life. ,Mrs. Smith said he, “and will soon forget, in the has known me many years.' Make gay circles of London, the humble any enquiries of her or through her friends you leave behind.'
you think proper, and I am peran • Ah! do not say. so,' cried Sa- suaded you will find I have not debina, with emotion. Never, never ceived you.' shall I cease to remember the happy Sabina looked around with the days I have passed beneath this roof. most painful emotions. Words did Never can I forget the dear friends not immediately offer : at last she I am about to quit.'
returned the followinganswer, which, • Charming girl!' cried Hool, as it marks the prudence and simsnatching her hand, and pressing it plicity of her character in colours to his lips. 'Charming girl! may I more vivid than my pen can paint, hope--you said friends, may I hope I shall give verbatim. You do I am included in the kind appel- me much honour, sir, by your fa-, lation?'
vourable opinion; but to accept your *Certainly,' returned Sabina blush- offer I must be lost to all sense of ing, and withdrawing her hand. I gratitude. You say you have no have to thank you for much amuse- parents, no friends ; you depend on ment, and the improvement your your own exertions and the blessconversation das afforded me.' ings of Heaven for support. May
• Sabina, you are going, and I that Heaven prosper your endeavours! must speak.- I have found it im- But shall Sabina Gayton, an orphan, possible to live in the same house without parents, without a home, (prepared as my heart was to love almost without a friend, retard your you by our worthy hostess), and progress in life? Shall she be a clog to behold you with indifference.'
endeavours to attain that rank * Your piery, your tender atten in society in which many woulu tion at the bed of your dying mother, find their account? Forbid it hoyour patient resignation to the will nour, and forbid it justice. No, sir; of Heaven when that beloved mo among your equals seek a wife-ther was taken from you, have all one whose family and connections been imparted to me by the genuine may forward your laudable endealanguage of nature. I loved your As for me, I have neither character before I beheld your lovely money, friends, nor connections; and person. Just such a wife had I until I can call at least one of often prayed Heaven to bestow on those necessary requisites my own I me. I have no father, no mother. will remain single.
• Noble Sabina! I must think suck in the care of her friend, only taking sentiments, such virtues, will meet with her a small trunk, containing their reward. I cannot but admire her clothes, and a few books, which the motive which prompts the res had been her mother's. This box solution you have taken, though Hool carried to the stage, where that resolution drives me to despair. seeing it and its fair mistress safely But condescend to receive my letters: placed, he said, “Remember your -suffer me to see you sometimes. promise!" and stepped back with when I return to London; and if emotion, to make way for Mrs. the unkindness of a world, which Smith, who, kissing the wet cheek never knows how to appreciate true of Sabina, said • There's your watch, merit should cause you to change my child. Take care of your health, your mind, remember there is one and write to me on your arrival in heart at least which beats only for London, which if you don't like, you; one faithful bosom ever open come back to dame Smith, and we to receive you. Though you may will live and die together--that's all.' possess neither friends, family, nor Sabina howed her head --she could connections, yet you must ever pos not speak. The coach drove ott, sess a heart of more value, and far, and the worthy Mrs. Smith and the more acceptable to me, than the dejected lover returned mournfully riches of both Indies, Then let to the litile parlour. not new friends nor fresh acquaint Dame Smith had redeemed Saance efface the reinembrance of him bina's watch some days before, but who loves you from a knowledge would not give it her till she was of your worth—who wishes to be seated in the stage, as she was feara coine your husband from a hopeful Sabina would leave the money that he may render you happy.' behind her, as she had done once
• Generous man” cried" Sabina. before; and the good dame well Never shall the heart yoų are
knew that in London Sabina would pleased to value know another at. bave need of all she possessed. tachment; never own another lord, A time may arrive, when you can
CHAP. XVIII. receive my vows with prudence : but if at any future time you meet with - She lets the sullen humour spend, swoman yeu could perfer to the one Aud with a virtuous book, or friend, before you, consider yourself as free, Beguiles th’uneasy hours:
Well colouring every cross she meets, and my best wishes shall attend you with heart serene she eats and sleeps ; and your bride.
She spreads her board with fancy'd sweets, • Amiable Sabina! do not think it And strews her bed with Huwers.
Dr. WATTS. possible that the heart which has once acknowledged you for its mis. On Sabina's arriving in Throgtress can ever know a change in its morton-street, she was immediately affections.'
cugaged by Mrs. De le Peair, who The entrance of Mrs. Smith pre- asked with mach kindness after dame vented Sabina's reply. She had been Smith. placing sume ham, and a couple of Mrs. De le Peair was the mother bottles of her best currant wine, for of two children. Her husband (a her nephew, whose door the stage Turkey merchant) was in Flanders, would pass, in a little trunk which and died abroad soon after Sabina Sabina promised to deliver. Sabina became a resident in his family. He left the whole of her little property left the whole of his property',
mounting to upwards.of forty thou- congenial minds alone are capable sand pounds, to his wife. Her child of enjoying. ren, à son and, a daughter, were A commodious handsome house amiable. Accustomed from infancy had been taken by Hool, and here to keep their passions in subjection, the worthy dame Smith was como they were mild and unassuming : sen missioned with the title of house sihle of their dependence on the will keeper, and lived many years their of their mother, they obeyed her faithful friend and careful servant. with alacrity; nor, was their obe- : The connections of Mrs. De le dience prompted by interest, for Peair being very extensive, proved they loved her from principle. of infinite service to Hool. She
In such a family it was impos- lived many years their firm friend, sible to be unhappy. Sabina's sweet and at her death further remember? disposition won the hearts of all. ed Sabina by a handsome legacy. Mrs. De le Peair and her daughter Sabina, respected by her friends, , distinguished her by their favour, beloved by her husband, blessed in They had always regarded their ser. several fine children, almost idolised vants as their fellow creatures: their by the poor, who never went unre. manners were conciliating to all, but , lieved from her door, still found a to Sabina they were particularly something to convince her that, kind; ever treating her as their however hope may flatter or poets friend, they loved her, and loaded dream, this life is not the reward," her with presents. Three years soon but the trial, of virtue. Hool slipped away, when Hool became im- sessed a trait of jealousy in his tema portunate with her to fulfil her pro- per, which not unfrequently obscured mise. "You have now,' said he, their otherwise bright prospects with • friends and connections; and if the balefut hue of suspicion. Those you had not, my business will allow fits, indeed, were transient; yet the me to support you in an elegant bare idea of her husband's doubting, simplicity.
though but for a moment, her conBut Mrs. De le Peair's health stancy and virtue, was a thorn which being then in a declining state, Sao raukled in her pure bosom, and embina would not hear of quittii:g her; bittered at times her very existence : bot the year following, when the though to any but a jaundiced eye, health of that lady was perfectly fee her inoffensive life must have proved established, and she was informed an antidote to suspicion. by Hool of the sacrifices her fa. Ever at home, ever cheerful, and vourite had made to her convenience, ready to contribute to the pleasure she insisted on her compliance with and comfort of those about her ; inthe wishes of her laver. Mrs. Smith structing her children-clothing the was sent for to be present at the needy-feeding the hungry-come" wedding Miss Dele Peair stood forting the sick-advising the young, bridemaid, and her mother presente herself setting an example worthy of od the blushing bride with three imitation thus passed ber time; hundred pounds as a marriage por
cheerful in trouble, patient in sus. tiun. After the ceremony, the com- fering-ever doing good. pany returned to Throgmorion Many years have since elapsed, Street, where an elegant dinner was yet she still lives surrounded by adprepared, and the day spent with that miring friends, in an elegant re. sceat mirth, that tlow of soul, which. tirement a few miles from the me.
tropolis. Time has convinced Hool sister a weekly allowance sufficient of the worth, the prudence, the pu- for her comfortable support, but rity of his Sabina. His heart trusts insufficient for the indulgence of wholly in her, and he now listens those follies which in some measure to her praises with delight. Two attended poor Mary till the last hour children alone survive: they are both of her life. Out of fifteen children, married, and well settled. They on only one survived her. The educaall occasions speak with the utmost tion of this child Sabina herself atreverence of their mother, whom tended to. She is now the wife of a they equally love and admire. They · respectable tradesman in the city of fervently invoke Heaven to lengthen London. Mrs. Westwood has long out the thread of her useful life, and been dead : John Adams, her see still to preserve the kindly ripened. cond husband, lived to spend the fruit on the bough.
money which ought to have been Mary and Gordon, through the her children's ; and the amiable Sa. kindness of Sabina, came to London, bina has returned ten-fold to them and entered into the business of old 'the kindness her mother received Gordon : but the ill habits of profu- from their father, proving the truth sion and inebriation were still at. . of the good old adage, “a good actached to this thoughtless couple. tion ever meets its reward.' Gordon soon became a bankrupt, and at last was compelled to labour
CHAP. XIX. for hire in the warehouse which had been his own. Thus might he date
Brief let me be.'
SuaksPEARE his ruin from the beauty of his wife; for though she preserved her virtue, HAVING brought my story to a yet by her follies and extravagance ' eonclusion, at least so near one that she brought him to misery and want. it would be indelicate to proceed
Lady Facwett died soon after Mrs. further, the principal character being Gayton, and sir Thomas marrying a still alive, I take my leave of the rich widow in India, and settling in patient reader; and if the lip that distant country, all correspond- of beauty has been dimpled by a ence between him and Gordon ceased. smile, or the eye of sensibility gemAt the age of forty-seven, the un med with a tear, I am repaid. fortunate Gordon sunk to a prema This little narrative was comture grave, to which his fatal pro- menced in the hour of pain, to pensity to drink had hurried him. amuse the dull monotony of a sick Sabina attended his dyivg bed with chamber. Could I Aatier myself the most tender pity, the most that the reader finds half the amuseunwearied assiduity. She soothed ment in the perusal that I had in the pangs of nature with tenderness, the compilation, I should be proud and charmed the throbs of guilt indeed. But methinks I hear some with the holy precepts of religion, fair novel-reader exclaim-What She mourned his fate, and signed to a stupid story! no point! no éclaira think that the man who had begun cissement! I expected Rebecca to the race of life with so much dignity, have been claimed by some rich probiiy, and honour, should slacken parent.'—"Tis true, dear lady, the in the cause of virtue, and stop so dash of a pen might have made her distant from the goal.
the daughter of a nabob. I could have Mrs. Gordon received from her poured the riches of both Indies