'Alas, my darling Child!' answered the generous Mother, 'I have myself now to pardon that I forgave thee not at first!'
Camilla seemed transported to another region; with difficulty Mrs. Tyrold could hold her in her bed, though hovering over her pillow with incessant caresses: but to raise her eye only to meet that of her Mother—not as her fertile terrour had prophesied, darting unrelenting ire, but softly solicitous, and exquisitely kind; to feel one loved hand anxiously upon her forehead, and to glue her own lips upon the other; to find fears that had made existence insupportable, transformed into security that rendered it delicious;—with a floating, uncertain, yet irrepressible hope, that to Edgar she owed this restoration, caused a revulsion in all her feelings, that soon operated upon her frame—not, indeed, with tranquillity, but with rapture approaching to delirium:—when suddenly, a heavy, lumbering noise, appalled her. 'Ah, my Mother!' she faintly cried, 'our beloved Eugenia!... that noise ... where—and how—is Eugenia?—The wretched Mr. Bellamy is no more!'
Mrs. Tyrold answered, she was acquainted with the whole dreadful business, and would relate it in a season of more serenity; but meanwhile, as repose, she well knew, never associated with suspence, she satisfied immediate anxiety, by assurances that Eugenia was safe, and at Etherington.
This was a joy scarce inferior to that which so recently had transported her: but Mrs. Tyrold, gathering from the good Peggy, that she had not been in bed, nor scarce tasted food, since she had been at the half-way-house, refused all particulars, till she had been refreshed with nourishment and rest. The first immediately was ordered, and immediately taken; and Mrs. Tyrold, to propitiate the second, insisted upon total silence, and prepared to sit up with her all night.
Long as the extreme agitation of her spirits distanced
'Tir'd Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep',[7]
the change from so much misery to heart-felt peace and joy, with the judicious nursing and restoratives devised by Mrs. Tyrold, for her weak and half famished frame, made her slumber, when at length, it arrived, lasted so long that, though broken by frequent starts, she awoke not till late the next morning.
Her eyes then opened upon a felicity that again made her think herself in a new world. Her Mother, leaning over her, was watching her breathe, with hands uplifted for her preservation, and looks of fondness which seemed to mark that her happiness depended upon its being granted; but as she raised herself, to throw her arms around the loved maternal neck, the shadow of another form, quickly, yet gently receding, struck her sight; ... 'Ah, Heaven!' she exclaimed, 'who is that?'
'Will you be good,' said Mrs. Tyrold, gently, 'be tranquil, be composed, and earn that I should tell you who has been watching by you this hour?'
Camilla could not answer; certain, now, who it must be, her emotions became again uncontrollable; her horrour, her remorse, her self-abhorrence revived, and agonizingly exclaiming, ''Tis my Father!—O, where can I hide my head?' She strove again to envelop herself with the bed-curtain from all view.