The next month was past in receiving and returning visits; and the most pleasing among them was a sociable day passed at Rose-Hill, the seat of Sir William Cecil. Miss Cecil promised, if Juliet, who now for some time had been tolerably well, should continue so, that Ellen should see her; though she very seldom admitted any company: "But I have said so much of you," said Laura, "that she is quite anxious to see you; and I am particularly anxious to familiarize her to you, both as it will I am sure give her pleasure, and facilitate our being often together." Accordingly, after dinner, when they left the gentlemen, Miss Cecil led Lady St. Aubyn to Juliet's apartment.
Never had Ellen seen so interesting a being: this fair creature, now about fifteen, was a perfect model of beauty and symmetry; though so slightly formed, she appeared, "like a fairy vision, or some bright creature of the element:" her cheeks were faintly tinged with a hectic blush; her eyes were of the most dazzling brightness; her lips like coral; and her teeth of pearly whiteness; her fair hair was covered with a fine lace cap, and her fragile form enveloped in a large shawl.
"My love," said Laura, "here is Lady St. Aubyn, who is so good as to come and see you."
Juliet extended her white hand, and said in a voice of peculiar harmony, fixing at the same time her sparkling and penetrating eyes on Ellen's face, as if she wished to read her heart in her countenance, "Laura says she loves you already, and I am sure I shall." The simple naïvetè of her voice and manner went to the heart of Ellen, who could not help embracing her tenderly, while she felt the tears start to her eyes at seeing one so young and lovely in a state of health so precarious.
After a little more conversation, Ellen put her hand accidentally on a small book which lay half concealed by one of the pillows of Juliet's couch, and said with that native politeness which ever prevented her from doing any thing rude or intrusive, "May I look at the subject of your studies?" "Yes," said Juliet, with an angelic smile, "If you please." Ellen opened the book. It was in a character totally unknown to her. "Do you read Greek?" asked the fair Juliet, with a simplicity and absence of design which proved her question was serious; and this interrogation, which would from most people to a young woman be absolutely ridiculous, from Juliet appeared merely a natural wish to know whether her new friend was as able as herself to read the book she held in her hand; for strange as it may appear, it was a copy of the New Testament in Greek; and Juliet read it as easily as if it had been English.
"My dear Juliet," said Laura, "few females make that language their study; I conclude, therefore, Lady St. Aubyn does not know it any more than myself." "Oh, I wish you both did," said Juliet: "if you could but know the delight I feel from reading the Scripture in its original language!—If I live till next summer I hope the Hebrew Bible will be as familiar to me as that book is now."
It is impossible for language to do justice to the perfect innocence and artlessness with which she spoke: she seemed to think her own wonderful attainments no more extraordinary than other girls do of being able to read a newspaper, or work a handkerchief: not a trace of affectation or pedantry was visible in her manner: she had a childishness of voice and tone that singularly contrasted with the subjects on which she spoke; for Laura, willing to let Ellen see what a wonderful creature she was, led her to speak of astronomy; and a celestial globe happening to be on a table before her, led her by degrees to display her extraordinary knowledge in that science—of the dimensions and motions of the heavenly bodies, their distances from the sun and from each other, &c. all of which she explained in the clearest and most perspicuous manner, making such happy allusions to the poets who have touched on the subject, and illustrating it by such apt comparisons, as shewed her imagination was as brilliant, as the calculations she readily made proved her memory was accurate.
Lady St. Aubyn, who had at every leisure hour since her marriage been engaged in studying this and other interesting subjects of useful knowledge, could in some degree appreciate the value and extent of this sweet girl's extraordinary acquirements, and was lost in admiration of her abilities, and the industry with which, notwithstanding her ill health, she had cultivated them.
This happened to be a day in which Juliet was unusually well, for in general she declined all conversation, and spent most of her time in studying the Scriptures, in devotional exercises, and promoting every plan which her health would permit her to join in for the relief of the poor; for her early piety and extensive charity were as remarkable as her other attainments were wonderful: but this day she was so well, that at Laura's solicitation, in which Ellen earnestly joined, she placed herself at a chamber organ that stood in her apartment, which she touched with great taste and science; and was at last prevailed on to accompany it with a voice of the most angelic sweetness.
She sung only sacred music, and now delighted Ellen with "Angels ever bright and fair;" and, "I know that my Redeemer liveth:" and while her pure lips poured forth these exquisite specimens of musical inspiration, the soft and pious expression of her heavenly countenance, for ever fixed and hallowed them in the remembrance of her hearers.