Adeline Mowbray; or, The Mother and Daughter

by Amelia Opie

Mrs Beauclerc was herself for some time unable to speak; but at length she faintly said—'So sensible, so pious, so well-informed, and so pure-minded as you seem!—to what strange arts, what wicked seductions, did you fall a victim?'

'To no arts—to no seductions'—replied Adeline, recovering all her energy at this insinuation against Glenmurray. 'My fall from virtue as you would call it, was, I may say, from love of what I thought virtue; and if there be any blame, it attaches merely to my confidence in my lover's wisdom and my own too obstinate self-conceit. But you, dear madam, deserve to hear my whole story; and, if you can favour me with an hour's attention, I hope, at least, to convince you that I was worthy of a better fate than to be publicly disgraced by a malicious and ignorant girl.'

Mrs Beauclerc promised the most patient attention; and Adeline related the eventful history of her life, slightly dwelling on those parts of it which in any degree reflected on her mother, and extolling most highly her sense, her accomplishments, and her maternal tenderness. When she came to the period of Glenmurray's illness and death, she broke abruptly off and rushed into her own chamber; and it was some minutes before she could return to Mrs Beauclerc, or before her visitor could wish her to return, as she was herself agitated and affected by the relation which she had heard:—and when Adeline came in she threw her arms round her neck, and pressed her to her heart with a feeling of affection that spoke consolation to the wounded spirit of the mourner.

She then resumed her narration;—and, having concluded it, Mrs Beauclerc, seizing her hand, exclaimed, 'For God's sake, marry Mr Berrendale immediately; and adjure for ever, at the foot of the altar, those errors in opinion to which all your misery has been owing!'

'Would I could atone for them some other way!' she replied.

'Impossible! and if you have any regard for me you will become the wife of your generous lover; for then, and not till then, can I venture to associate with you.'

'I thought so,' cried Adeline; 'I thought all idea of remaining here, with any chance of keeping my scholars, was now impossible.'

'It would not be so,' replied Mrs Beauclerc, 'if every one thought like me: I should consider your example as a warning to all young people; and to preserve my children from evil I should only wish them to hear your story, as it inculcates most powerfully how vain are personal graces, talents, sweetness of temper, and even active benevolence, to ensure respectability and confer happiness, without a strict regard to the long-established rules for conduct, and a continuance in those paths of virtue and decorum which the wisdom of ages has pointed out to the steps of every one.—But others will, no doubt, consider, that continuing to patronize you, would be patronizing vice; and my rank in life is not high enough to enable me to countenance you with any chance of leading others to follow my example; while I should not be able to serve you, but should infallibly lose myself. But some time hence, as the wife of Mr Berrendale, I might receive you as your merits deserve: till then—' Here Mrs Beauclerc paused, and she hesitated to add, 'we meet no more.'

Indeed it was long before the parting took place. Mrs Beauclerc had justly appreciated the merits of Adeline, and thought she had found in her a friend and companion for years to come: besides, her children were most fondly attached to her; and Mrs Beauclerc, while she contemplated their daily improvement under her care, felt grateful to Adeline for the unfolding excellencies of her daughters. Still, to part with her was unavoidable; but the pang of separation was in a degree soothed to Adeline by the certainty which Mrs Beauclerc's sorrow gave her, that, spite of her errors, she had inspired a real friendship in the bosom of a truly virtuous and respectable woman; and this idea gave a sensation of joy to her heart to which it had long been a stranger.

The next morning some of the parents, whom Mary's tale had not yet reached, sent their children as usual. But Adeline refused to enter upon any school duties, bidding them affectionately farewell, and telling them that she was going to write to their parents, as she was obliged to leave her present situation, and, declining keeping school, meant to reside, she believed in London.