Leila at Home / a continuation of Leila in England

by Ann Fraser Tytler

Selina began to undress. She then took her Bible to read as usual before saying her prayers. “Matilda,” she said, after a few minutes, “may I read you this text which I have turned up?”

There seemed a silent assent.

Selina read, “There hath no temptation taken you, but such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that you are able, but will with the temptation make a way to escape, that you may be able to bear it.” “Yes,” Selina said, “and it is by praying to God that we shall obtain His assistance,” and she knelt down by the side of her bed.

For some time after she had lain down, all was still in the room. Selina had turned her face from her sister, that she might not seem to watch her. After some time Matilda rose; she stood for a moment by the bed, then put something very gently below the pillow; she started when Selina said, “Matilda, I am not asleep;” but she knelt down, said her prayers, and then got into bed.

“How very cold you are, dear Matilda,” Selina said; “and how you tremble. O why will you not tell me all?”

Matilda pressed her hand. “Good night, dearest; try to sleep.”

Matilda seemed more composed; Selina felt comfort, she knew not why. After a considerable time Selina did sleep. She was awakened early by the bright morning sun, but when she opened her eyes she saw Matilda was not there. She called to her, there was no answer. Much alarmed, she sprang out of bed and flew to the window. She saw Matilda fully dressed, standing below a tree speaking to the gardener’s boy; she put a small packet into his hand, and pointed across the lawn in the direction of Mr. Mildmay’s. The packet was larger than a letter, Selina felt sure it was the etui. She retreated from the window, and when Matilda returned, took no notice of what she had seen. At the breakfast-table there was no Matilda with her smiling face. All the morning she continued in her room, seated by the window; she had her work in her hand, but was generally looking out along the approach as if she expected some one. About the middle of the day a servant in livery was seen approaching; he held a letter in his hand; as he stopped below her window, she strained her eyes to catch the address, but could not. Poor Matilda! how her heart beat, and how her colour went and came; but no one entered her room—the letter then could not have been for her. She called to Amy, who said she believed the servant had brought a letter for Mrs. Stanley. At that moment Selina came running in. “Matilda,” she said, “Mrs. Mildmay has written to say that Lydia has lost her ruby ring, and she begs it may be carefully looked for; she returned home, she says, with only one glove, and Mrs. Mildmay thinks she may have pulled it off in the glove, and trusts we may be able to find it.”

Selina looked earnestly at Matilda, but her expression she could not make out; she had brightened up considerably at first, but now there was only agitation visible, and she made no effort to assist in looking for the lost glove. It was not to be found in Matilda’s room; the drawing-room and dining-room had already been searched. They now proceeded to Leila’s apartment. Here they were equally unsuccessful: under the bed, under every chair, they searched in vain. Suddenly it struck Selina that it was at dinner, while Lydia was still there, that her mamma had observed that Matilda’s nails were black. There was a small window in one corner of Leila’s room which looked out upon the court; she threw open this window and gazed eagerly out; she saw something lying which might be a glove. Amy ran down into the court, and returned with the glove in her hand. The ring was sticking in one of the fingers, but the pale kid glove was much stained with earth, and could not have been used again. A new light seemed to dawn on Mrs. Stanley; “Amy,” she said, “go to the coachman, and tell him I shall require the carriage as quickly as possible, I must drive over to Mrs. Mildmay’s.” Then turning to Selina, she whispered, “I wish Matilda to return to her room, and let no one question her.”

The hour of Mrs. Stanley’s absence was an anxious hour to all. Selina and Leila were both with Matilda when the carriage was seen returning; when it stopped before the door Matilda seemed scarcely able to breathe. Mrs. Stanley entered and took her in her arms. “My poor child,” she said, “you have been very, very wrong; but, thank God, you have not told an untruth. O Matilda, how you have been injured by bad example, and how far the evil might have spread, had I not discovered Lydia’s artful character! Mrs. Mildmay told me she suspected something was wrong when she found you had written to Lydia, and sent back her etui; and even before I went she had extracted from her a sort of half confession. Unhappy girl! but she now seems completely penitent.” Then turning to Leila and Selina, she continued, “She seemed anxious to tell me all; she said that she had insisted on going into Leila’s room, as she wished to see her books and some pretty ornaments she had observed on the mantel-piece; that when she overturned the flower-stand, Matilda had wished her immediately to confess it, but she would not; that she had stuck the flowers into the earth and watered them, in the hope of keeping them fresh as long as she remained, and that she had bribed Matilda to perfect silence by offering her the etui; that Matilda at first refused, but afterwards yielded, and that Lydia had made her promise that she was to answer no questions, that she was not on any account to say she had not done it. Alas! my child, how you grieved the Holy Spirit when you took that wicked bribe; but deeply have you suffered, and I will inflict no further punishment upon you, than that you should remain in your room during the day. Think deeply of all that has passed, and of the misery you have endured, and pray earnestly to God for his forgiveness, and for strength to resist future temptation. Also you must give me your promise to give up all intimacy with Lydia Mildmay, and never to trust yourself alone with her again, unless in after years I give you leave to do so.”

Matilda threw herself again into her mamma’s arms, but she could not speak. She then slowly left the room.