CHAPTER XII.
Pure was her bosom, as the silver lake,
Ere rising winds the ruffled waters shake;
When the bright pageants of the morning sky
Across the expansive mirror lightly fly,
By vernal gales in quick succession driv'n,
While the clear glass reflects the smile of Heav'n.
Hayley.
"What a delightful girl Miss Wildenheim is!" exclaimed Selina Seymour, as she sat at work in Mrs. Galton's dressing-room the day after she had dined at Webberly House.—"I am sure we shall become intimate friends; I never saw any body I admired half so much." Mrs. Galton coincided in Selina's praise of her new favourite; for though she was not equally prone to form "intimate friendships" at first sight, her penetration had led her to conceive nearly as favourable an opinion of Miss Wildenheim as Selina had expressed. Indeed, Mrs. Galton was particularly desirous of improving her acquaintance with Mrs. Sullivan's interesting ward; for though she was, in general, extremely suspicious of the friendships girls so frequently contract and break with equal precipitation, she was extremely anxious that Selina should meet with a suitable companion of her own sex; and the refined elegance of Miss Wildenheim's manners, the calmness of her deportment, and the good sense which all her observations evinced, led Mrs. Galton to hope, that from her society her beloved niece might derive as much advantage as satisfaction. But at the same time, she recollected, that a degree of mystery seemed to hang over Adelaide's situation; and, therefore, while she gave a willing assent to Selina's encomiums, she cautiously withheld her sanction to a sudden intimacy, until a longer acquaintance confirmed or destroyed her present prepossession in Miss Wildenheim's favour.
Selina had never yet had any female associate, except Mrs. Galton; for though Sir Henry's considerate attention to "poor Mrs. Martin," and her inseparable companion Lucy, occasioned their being frequent visitors at the Hall, yet they were so different in character, pursuits, and situation from Miss Seymour, that no degree of intimacy could ever take place between them. Selina had been so much disgusted by the young ladies at Webberly House, on their first introduction, that she had shrunk from all subsequent familiarity with them, nor did her aunt, in this, endeavour to conquer her prejudices.
Mrs. Galton was aware, that such was the susceptibility of Selina's heart, and the candour of her disposition, that if once she felt a preference, her whole soul would be engrossed by the object of her attachment, and that the strength of her regard could probably be more easily anticipated than its duration: she was therefore particularly cautious in permitting Selina to have any intercourse with those of whose merits she did not feel well assured; believing that much of her own future character, and consequent happiness, would depend on that of her first guides and associates on her entrance into life. Hitherto, her only companions and her only confidants had been Sir Henry, Mrs. Galton, and Augustus Mordaunt. In them all her innocent affections were centred. To them her whole mind was displayed; and so guiltless was she of even a thought she could blush to own, that she scarcely imagined her ingenuousness was a merit. Nor had the want of other companions in any degree lessened the animation of her character; perhaps, on the contrary, the very antidotes, to which Mrs. Galton had recourse to avoid a premature gravity, had rather tended to increase that vivacity, which bordered on levity, and was her most dangerous characteristic. Whenever the lessons of her childhood had been concluded, she had always been permitted, and even encouraged, to join in many of those games and exercises, that are usually appropriated to the amusement of the other sex. Often has she quitted an abstruse book, or a beautiful drawing, to trundle her hoop, or run races with her playfellow Augustus. And when other girls have trembled under the rod of the dancing master, she has been gaining health and activity together, by vaulting over gates, that more refined young ladies would, perhaps, have dreaded to climb. It is true, that as she advanced towards womanhood, she was taught to attend rather more to the decorums of life; and, instead of being permitted to bound through the woods like the fawns she dislodged, or even (shocking to relate) walk hand in hand with the old steward over half the park, before girls of fashion would have broken their first slumbers; she now changed her amusements, and accompanied Mrs. Galton in her charitable errands to the poor, or, attended by Augustus and her groom, rode through the delightful lanes in the neighbourhood. However, since his departure from the Hall, her rides were confined within the park walls, and scarcely a day passed, when the recollection of their rambles, in which she so much delighted, did not serve to renew the expression of her regrets at his absence. But even that circumstance failed to depress her spirits. Perhaps, amongst all created beings, she at that moment was almost the happiest. She knew no world beyond the little circle round her own home, and in that circle she loved and was beloved. Every eye beamed on hers with satisfaction, and every heart returned her affection with redoubled fondness. She dreamed not of insincerity, and she knew not what was grief, except indeed when she enjoyed the luxury of sharing or alleviating that of others; which her frequent visits to the neighbouring cottages sometimes presented to her view: and never did she look so lovely as when she bent over the bed of sickness, or rocked the cradle of infant suffering, while her eyes swam in tears, or sparkled with the joy of successful benevolence.
Beauty, and grace, and innocence in her
In heavenly union shone: one who had held
The faith of elder Greece would sure have thought
She was some glorious nymph of seed divine,
Oread or Dryad, of Diana's train
The youngest and the loveliest—yea, she seem'd
Angel or soul beatified, from realms
Of bliss, on errand of parental love,
To earth re-sent; if tears and trembling limbs
With such celestial nature might consist.
Though Sir Henry Seymour was extremely hospitable, yet so retired was the neighbourhood of Deane Hall, that the ladies at Webberly House and the Parsonage were the only ones that Mrs. Galton visited, except Mrs. Martin and Mrs. Lucas. But as autumn approached, the visits of the two latter to the Hall became more frequent; for Sir Henry was fond of what he called a social rubber of whist; and as his constant tormentor the gout disabled him from using any exercise, beyond what his Bath chair procured for him, his chief amusement was in the society of his country friends, who were most happy to assemble round the good Baronet's fire side, when a blazing faggot corrected the influence of a keen air, and gave them a foretaste of the comforts of winter, before they were yet introduced to any of its horrors.