The discarded daughter; or, The children of the isle

by Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth

—Byron.

In the meantime Miss Seabright was preparing to resign her state. Few can estimate the terrible trial it was to this just but ambitious girl to abdicate her elevated social position and step down upon the common level to labor with the common herd. You have already seen how, in the fearful struggle which had ensued—in that dread bosom tempest—all the latent selfishness which marred that noble nature was thrown up and exposed upon the crest of the tossing waves of passion. But if, in this soul-storm, her hidden evil was cast up to view, it was also cast off. And then, when the waves of her heart subsided, and the clouds on her brain dispersed, and the sun of right shone out clear and bright, illuminating her soul, and revealing her to herself—then she saw that there was something in her own nature greater than all her adventitious surroundings. Now she would not have said to Hugh what she had said before, “I am not much, shorn of my beams.” No, indeed, there was consolidating in her heart a noble, steadfast self-appreciation that would no more falsify itself by factitious humility than degrade itself by unjust action. And having once made the sacrifice, and turned her back upon the splendors of her past fortune, there was no regret, no looking back, like Lot’s wife; her face was set to her forward path—her strong, impetuous soul already rushing on to realize her future of loving and hopeful toil with Hugh for her companion and guide. With Hugh! How, the recurring of his very name, the tide of emotion, like the rushing of a mighty river, would roll over her, overwhelming and confusing her soul with a sort of lost, delirious joy! Within this month of sacrifice, how much stronger and more concentrated had become her love for Hugh! And if the Judge of all hearts had demanded a reason for the mighty love that was in her, she would have been constrained to answer, “It is his moral integrity that has mastered my heart. It is his moral integrity that would not waver, for love or for ambition—those two mightiest passions of the human soul. I loved him before, I loved him well enough to have given him myself and all my wealth, but when I found in him a moral rectitude that would not bend for love of me, or hope of grandeur, I was drawn up to adore him. Yes, that is why I would rather follow him barefoot over all the earth, if necessary, and serve him as the Indian woman serves her lord, than be myself the object of worship to all the world.”

Yes, there was a man to love through life and unto death; there was a man to repose upon in all weakness, to confide in in all emergencies; whom the combined power of love and ambition, beauty, wealth, and the usages of society that would have justified him, could never move from his uprightness. There was a pillar of strength to cling to in a storm. It was with as much high-born pride and joy as love that Garnet thought of her betrothed.

The month and her preparations drew near their close. She was daily expecting to hear of the arrival of the family of Dr. Hardcastle at Hemlock Hollow. Dr. Hutton, who had not yet returned, was to come with them. She was looking for them by every stage, and hourly she added some new attraction to the preparations she was making to receive them. The ancients were accustomed to adorn a sacrifice before offering it up, and the same instinct impelled Miss Seabright daily to walk through her halls and chambers, designing, with her artistic taste, new improvements and embellishments for the palace home she was about to resign.

The wedding day arrived. It was a bright and beautiful day in May. Upon the evening previous Dr. Hardcastle, with his family, had arrived at Hemlock Hollow. Therefore, there had been no time or opportunity for a meeting between them and Miss Seabright previous to the marriage day. Dr. Hutton was a guest at the Hollow, and a note from him to Miss Seabright informed her that they would all be at Mount Calm at an early hour of the morning. Owing to the rather recent deaths in the family, and the peculiarity of the circumstances, it had been arranged that the marriage ceremony should be performed quietly at eight o’clock in the morning in the saloon of Mount Calm, in the presence of few witnesses, and that immediately after the ceremony and breakfast the young couple should depart to seek their Western home, leaving Mrs. Garnet in possession of the mansion house and the estate. The only guests invited were the Hardcastles, with Mrs. Garnet, Judge Wylie and Miss Wylie, and their old friend, the Rev. Mr. Wilson, with his wife and young sister. The marriage ceremony was to be performed after the Episcopal ritual by the recently installed pastor of the New Church.

At seven o’clock in the morning, therefore, the few privileged friends, with the exception of the Hardcastles, who had not yet arrived, were assembled in the saloon of Mount Calm, awaiting the entree of the bridal party.

At last the carriage containing the family from Hemlock Hollow drove up and paused before the main entrance of the mansion, and Dr. Hardcastle alighted, followed by Dr. Hutton, who then handed out Mrs. Garnet and Mrs. Hardcastle. They passed up the marble stairs and into the hall, where they paused until Mrs. Garnet had sent up a servant to the bride, to request the favor of being received by her before she should come down into the saloon, and obtained an answer that Miss Seabright would be pleased to see Mrs. Garnet and Mrs. Hardcastle in her own apartment.

The servant who brought back the message bowed and offered to show the ladies up. Mrs. Garnet and her daughter followed him up the broad staircase into the upper hall, and through a door into an elegant front dressing room, which Alice recognized with a smile as having been her own bedchamber.

The room, when they entered, was vacant of other occupants, but they had scarcely seated themselves at the front windows when the opposite folding doors opened and Miss Seabright appeared before them.

A novice, when she is about to renounce forever the pomps and vanities of the world and take the black veil of the nun, arrays herself for the last time in costly apparel. So Miss Seabright, when about to resign forever all pretensions to splendor, arrayed her glorious form with almost regal magnificence. Her bridal costume was a rich Mechlin lace over white and silver brocaded satin, and festooned with bouquets of pearls and diamonds, a fine and ample lace veil confined above her and ringlets by a wreath of the same priceless gems.