To her direct thy looks; there fix thy praise,
And gaze with wonder there. The life I gave her
Oh! she has used it for the noblest ends!
To fill each duty; make her father feel
The purest joy, the heart dissolving bliss,
To have a grateful child.
Murphy.
The manners of Isabel were peculiarly frank and playful; the consciousness that her life was spent in the discharge of active duty, gave the same energy to her mind, which bodily exertion did to her nervous system. She never acted under the influence of motives which required disguise; the simplicity of her habits, her ignorance of the world, and innocence of intention, gave such an undesigning engaging character to her conversation, that whoever spoke to her, might think themselves addressing one of those pure intelligences, who are incapable of falsehood or disguise. To a mind so modelled, a secret was a dreadful burden, especially when compelled to hide it from one, whom love induced her to treat with peculiar confidence, and who often complained of her reserve, and asked the meaning of those embarrassed looks, that impatience to break from him, and those thousand mysterious contrivances upon petty occasions, which were so new to her character, and might have awakened jealousy in the most unsuspicious heart.
On his being first domesticated in the Beaumont family, Lord Sedley was charmed with that elegance of arrangement, which contrived to make a bare sufficiency of the simplest fare, look like plenty. He had wondered how the little means he knew they possessed, could be so multiplied, even by the most provident frugality, as, like the widow's oil and meal, to supply their own wants, and yet afford a portion to the hungry traveller. Formerly, when he reconsidered at night the behaviour of the family, he used to be able to account for all their actions, and could testify that their time was virtuously and wisely employed, without the least alloy from caprice, indolence, or inconsiderateness. Dr. Beaumont and Constantia went at their appointed hour to visit the villagers; Mrs. Mellicent sorted her simples, compounded her medicines, and examined her patients; Isabel superintended the domestic management.—Williams was caterer, gardener and serving-man; the relics of yesterday's meal were neatly reserved, garnished with "roots, cut in characters," and the sauce spiced, as if it were for Jove. After dinner, literature, wit, or piety, gave a zest to their conversation, and made the lone ruins of Waverly Hall the scene of a regale, often unknown in palaces. But now every proceeding was deranged and perplexed, no one seemed to enquire into the engagements of the others. Isabel was often absent, and often neglected the duties to which she once used to affix importance.—Williams was employed in some business, which all but himself seemed tacitly to admit was of infinite concern. The provisions clandestinely disappeared, and the family seemed to think it necessary to repair the waste, by eating more sparingly. Instead of wishing to sit up to sing, when every body else was sleepy, Isabel was the first to hint the benefit of early hours, yet in the morning her faded cheeks and sunk eyes indicated that the night had been spent in watching. Nay, what more excited his apprehensions, he discovered that besides the evening devotions, to which he had been long admitted, there was a secret service, which left on all their faces the mark of tears.