Lionel Hardcastle, foreordained by General Garnet as the husband of his inheritrix, had been appointed trustee of the estate and guardian of the heiress, and of—his own interests at the same time.
And well had he fulfilled his trust; no Eastern despot had even established a stricter guard over a young Georgian maid than did this guardian over the heiress. At the early age of twelve he had placed her at a strict convent school, where she avowed that she had to eat, drink, and sleep; pray, sing, and learn lessons; sit, stand, and walk by exact rule. We may fancy the effect of such a discipline upon our wild child. The fleet deer of the mountain penned, the free bird of the air caged, was nothing to this wild child of sea and land confined! At first she was anxious to go; for all children like change; but at the first visit of her guardian, whom with her confiding nature she already loved, she sprang upon his lap, threw her arms around his neck, entreated, prayed, wept to be taken away; and when she found her vehement solicitations vain, she passionately dashed her hand into his face, called him an evil spirit, sprang from his arms, and threw herself face downward flat upon the floor; called the good sisterhood a pack of witches, with Hecate at their head, and threatened to starve herself to death, as the partridge did she tried to tame once; and so, by this conduct, got herself into disgrace for a week. There is great adaptativeness in childhood, and in time our little girl became reconciled to her convent, especially as the gentle nuns took an affectionate interest in civilizing the little barbarian, who, notwithstanding her faults, drew all hearts to herself. The effect of this conventual education was altogether good. It cultivated and directed the powers of her intellect and moral sense, and taught her to control the almost savage strength and daring of her passionate and energetic nature. But she left the convent distinguished by the same inflexibility of will with which she had entered its walls. By the will of her adopted father she was not to marry until she had attained the age of twenty-one, and though then her choice was not absolutely controlled, it was directed to her guardian. It was upon this account, and to seclude her from society and the chance of forming another attachment, that, despite the conscientious expostulations of the Mother Superior, he left her boarding at the convent until she had nearly reached her twentieth birthday. About that time Miss Seabright became inspired with a desire to see the world—not society, but the earth and all thereon; so, without asking any favors, she expressed her will to leave the convent and travel for a year. This proposition well suited the views of her guardian, as it obviated the awkward necessity of leaving her in the convent, or the impolitic alternative of introducing her into society, and gave him an admirable opportunity of pressing his suit, and even imposing upon her the inevitable propriety of accepting him.
They made the tour of Europe together, journeying over the kindred soil of Old England, the “sunny land” of France, the old chivalric mountains of Spain, the classic plains of Italy and Greece, the Alpine precipices of Switzerland; along the forest, rock, and castle-shadowed rivers of Germany; over the snow-clad plains of Russia, and thence down amid the mosques and seraglios of Turkey. By Mr. Hardcastle’s position and connection in America, and his letters of presentation to our ministers abroad, he might have obtained introduction for himself and ward into the best society of every capital in Europe, but it did not suit his policy to do so. And even when her love of travel was somewhat sated, and Miss Seabright expressed a desire to enter the world of society, he put her off from time to time with various excuses. As her wish to mingle with the world was not very strong, she did not insist. And thus at the end of thirteen months’ travel in Europe Miss Seabright set out on her return home as “innocent of the knowledge” of the world as when she had left her convent walls. She had had the opportunity of studying deeply but one specimen of human nature, and him she had well learned—her guardian and traveling companion, Lionel Hardcastle. Repeatedly had he pressed his suit, and eloquently had he pleaded the passion with which his recent intimate association with the unique and beautiful girl had inspired him. And repeatedly, amid protestations of gratitude and friendship, had she lamented her utter inability to meet his love. He bided his time!
It was in this relative position that the guardian and ward returned to Mount Calm early in the spring of 18—. Miss Seabright had indulged her love of luxury with the purchase of elegant furniture in France. These had been transported to Mount Calm, where the mansion house had been superbly fitted up for the reception of its young mistress.
It was then a fine day in the month of March that Miss Seabright sat in her library, awaiting the arrival of her guardian.
“Mr. Lionel Hardcastle!” announced a servant, throwing open the door. Miss Seabright seated herself before the library table, and Mr. Lionel Hardcastle entered the library, accompanied by old Mr. Hardcastle, his father, and a lawyer.
A half hour was occupied in the reading and transferring of certain documents, of which the lawyer finally took charge.
Then the gentlemen got up to take leave. Miss Seabright also arose, to dismiss them; but when she saw that Lionel Hardcastle was about to bow the others out with the purpose of remaining himself, she courteously advanced, and invited them all to remain and dine. A quick telegraphic look from Lionel Hardcastle to his father arrested the old gentleman’s intention of accepting, so that, excusing himself, he took leave and withdrew, followed by the lawyer. Miss Seabright also followed, with the intention of leaving the library, but Lionel Hardcastle intercepted her purpose by bowing the gentlemen out, and closing the door after them. Miss Seabright retreated to the library table, where she stood erect, with one hand resting upon the table, and with her fiery eyes concentrating all their rays into a burning focus in the gaze she fixed upon his face. Yet he winced not; but advancing calmly toward her, said: “That attitude and gaze, Miss Seabright, would remind me that my authority as your guardian ceases from this hour.”
“Without referring to that circumstance, Mr. Hardcastle, I would only plead excessive weariness of this room, and to be excused for the remainder of the day.”
“You do not look in the least fatigued; and just now you even invited my father and your lawyer to remain and dine with you.”