Each look, each motion, wak'd a new born grace,
That o'er her form its transient glory cast;
Some lovelier wonder soon usurp'd the place,
Chas'd by a charm still lovelier than the last.
Lyttelton.
Mr. Mordaunt, finding it impossible to persuade Sir Henry Seymour's veteran coachman to resign his office of charioteer, or even willingly to admit a partner on his throne, was obliged to solace himself with Mrs. Galton's conversation, till they entered the park of Deane. At last, as the carriage turned up the long dark avenue which led to the magnificent though antique mansion, his delighted eye beheld Selina, as she supported her father, whilst "with measured step and slow" he walked up and down the broad smooth terrace, which stretched along the south front of the house, and commanded all the beauties of the rich vale below. Her fragile form and firm yet elastic step were contrasted with Sir Henry's tottering feeble gait. But though her sparkling eyes gave a joyous welcome, even from a distance, to Mrs. Galton and Augustus, yet, with the fond solicitude of filial love, she restrained her father's hastening steps, till Augustus relieved her from her charge; then light as a zephyr which scarcely bends the flower over which it passes, she flew to Mrs. Galton, and had already seen, if not examined, all her purchases, recapitulated her various occupations during her three hours' absence, and made Mrs. Galton repeat twice over all the particulars she could recollect, of "dear Mrs. Temple," and Miss Wildenheim, before Augustus had conducted Sir Henry to the hall door, or replied to more than half his inquiries about "poor Brown's lease, and the arrangements that were made for his wife and children."
Selina Seymour was nearly seventeen; her person
"Fair as the forms that, wove in fancy's loom,
"Float in light vision round the poet's head;"
and her mind as well cultivated as could be expected under the peculiar circumstances of her situation; for she had lived entirely in the country, and never had as yet an opportunity of acquiring that brilliancy of execution in the fine arts, by which so many of our modern girls of fashion rival the painters, and the dancers, and the singers, and the players on musical instruments, who live only by the exertion of their talents in those different lines. Of what are usually called accomplishments she was comparatively ignorant. She knew little or nothing of fancy works—had never made any pasteboard screens—could neither waltz nor play on the flageolet—nor beat the tambourine in all the different attitudes practised and taught to young ladies by the Duke of York's band—but with several modern languages she was well acquainted, and had learned to draw from Mrs. Galton, who particularly excelled in miniature painting, and delighted in transmitting all her knowledge to her adopted child. Music was however Selina's favourite amusement, and for it she early discovered a decided genius. An old blind organist, from the town of ——, generally attended her for three months every summer, and certainly taught her well the only part of the art he understood, namely, thorough bass—but of the soul of music, he, poor man, had no idea; for that she was indebted solely to her own intensity of feeling; and whatever execution she possessed she had acquired by the indefatigable practice of such lessons of Handel's, Corelli's, Scarlatti's, and Bach's, as her father's old music chest afforded; for Sir Henry had not added an air to his collection since the death of her mother Lady Seymour, nor did he suppose it possible, that any improvement could have taken place in the art of composition since that period. Perhaps, had he heard Selina play some of Mozart's admirable melodies, he might have been induced to acknowledge their merit, as he generally thought all she did was perfection; though in her education he never interfered—the care of that had been intrusted, ever since she had lost her mother, to Mrs. Galton, and the excellent rector of the parish, Mr. Temple, who had been tutor to Sir Henry Seymour's ward, Augustus Mordaunt. With them Selina often joined in studies of a graver cast than those usually appropriated to her age and sex. And perhaps the peculiar style of her education was the one best adapted to her disposition. She had naturally uncommon vivacity. "Her cheek was yet unprofaned by a tear," and her buoyant spirits had never been depressed by those unfeeling prohibitions and restraints, which, "like a worm i' th' bud," feed on the opening blossom, and turn the happiest season of our lives into days of protracted penance. To her elasticity of spirits and brilliancy of imagination, which, but for an uncommon superiority of talent, might have degenerated into frivolity of mind, this calm and almost masculine education formed an admirable counterpoise. But yet such was her natural pliability of character, that Mrs. Galton scarcely deemed even this antidote sufficient; and looked forward with trembling anxiety to the period of her being introduced to society, knowing how probable it was, that her fancy, and even her heart, might be seriously affected, long before her reason or understanding were called into action.
Selina was the only one of Sir Henry Seymour's children who had survived their mother; in her were centred all his hopes and nearly all his affections; her vivacity amused, and her talents gratified him. But he was not capable of justly appreciating or fully comprehending her character; he had so long considered her as a mere child, it never entered into his calculation, that she was now approaching that eventful period of life, when more was required from the discretion and affection of a parent, than a mere tolerance of harmless vivacity. It did certainly sometimes occur to him, that she might marry, but he generally banished the idea from his mind as quickly as it arose; for it was always accompanied by a painful feeling, arising in truth from a dread of losing her delightful society; but he never analyzed this feeling, and always repeating to himself that she was still but a child, he concluded by his usual reflection, that there "was no use in thinking about it; for, if it was to happen, he could not help it."
Thus, with infatuated security, he anticipated no danger in allowing his daughter to associate with Augustus Mordaunt. They had been brought up as children together, and their manner to each other was so unrestrained, so free from all those artificial precautions, that by a premature defence first apprise innocence of its danger, that even wiser heads than poor Sir Henry's might have believed, as Selina really did, that only the affection of brother and sister existed between them: it is true, Mrs. Galton and Mr. Temple sometimes talked over together the possibility of their future union; and so desirable did it seem to both, and so certain to obtain Sir Henry's consent, that they left them to their fate, scarcely wishing that any circumstance should arise to prevent a mutual attachment taking place.
Augustus was nephew to the earl of Osselstone, and heir to his title. His father, dying when he was four years old, had left him to the guardianship of Sir Henry; and the boy had been removed to Deane Hall the year before Selina was born, where he had constantly resided since, except during the periods he had passed at Eton and Oxford. Sir Henry felt for him an affection almost paternal; nor was it unreturned, or unworthily bestowed. The disposition of Augustus was naturally benevolent and ardent in the extreme. Even in the most trifling pursuit either of knowledge or amusement, the fervency of his character was manifested; and where the susceptibility of his heart was once called forth, though expression might be repressed, his feelings were not easily to be subdued.