Frederica and her Guardians; Or, The Perils of Orphanhood

by Margaret M. Robertson

“No,” said Mr St. Cyr, with a shrug, “not in your case. You may wish to serve them, but you have another motive. Who is Sister Agnace?”

“A simple, pious, affectionate creature, just the nurse for a nervous invalid like Mrs Vane. See her, and satisfy yourself with regard to her.”

“I shall do so,” said Mr St. Cyr; “and, my brother, let me say one word to you. Nothing good will come of your trying to gain influence in this house. Mrs Vane has nothing in her power as to the disposal of her father’s wealth. All that is quite beyond her power.”

“Don’t you remember you told me all that long ago? Is it not conceivable that for other reasons I might wish to influence that unhappy woman, who is so near death, and who is so unprepared to meet it? What is her wealth to me, who am not permitted to possess aught beyond the necessaries of life? Why should I wish to influence her, except to turn her thoughts to the God whom she must soon meet, and of whom she knows nothing? And these poor neglected children! Brother Cyprien, it is terrible to me to see you so indifferent to their highest interests, and your own.”

“Let all that pass. What I wish to say is this—No influence that you may bring to bear on her can possibly make any change in the arrangement of her affairs. The guardians of her children’s interests are already chosen by my advice, and with her husband’s consent, and they are such men as will not please you. She might change them, it is true, but she will not without my advice. You have already made her unhappy, I think. It is cruel, and will avail you nothing. This is what I wish you to understand.”

“I clearly understand. You will not see that it is only their good I wish for. They have no religion. They are ignorant of the first principles of truth. These young girls are neither fit for this world nor the next. And St. Hubert’s grandsons are losing the best years of their life, under the foolish teaching of an ignorant woman.”

“That is your opinion,” said Mr St. Cyr coldly. “Well, you are not responsible, and need not interfere. No good can come of it to any one concerned.”

But he had no fault to find with Miss Agnace when he saw her. She was simple and affectionate, and as far as he could judge, faithful. She was eager for the spiritual good of Mrs Vane and her children, and prayed for them, and told them tales of the saints, and of miracles performed by their relics even at the present day. She took the children with her to mass, on high days and holidays, and evidently had full faith in the success of her efforts in their behalf at last. But of all this Mr St. Cyr had no fear. Indeed, he might have rejoiced over the prospect of the spiritual change, for which Sister Agnace and his brother were so anxious, in poor Mrs Vane and her children, provided it were a real change, and that no wrong influence were brought to bear upon them to bring it about.

But though Mr St. Cyr was looked upon as a very religious man, he was far more liberal in his opinions, and charitable in his judgments, than the greater number of those who admired his devotion. It did not seem impossible to him that beyond the pale of his own church there might be truth and safety. He knew that Mr Vane was not a religious man. He gave him no credit for religious motives, or even for conscientious motives, in the care with which, in the education of his daughters, he had tried to keep them away from Roman Catholic influence; and it would have troubled him very little on his account that they should leave their father’s church. He would not have pitied him, but he would have dreaded the pain to them, the discomfort which their father’s anger would bring upon them.

But he was not anxious for them to change. They were good little things, he thought, desirous to do right, and quite as likely to do right by themselves as they would be under such guidance as a change might involve,—such guidance, for instance, as that of his brother Jerome. He did not wish to be hard on his brother, even in his thoughts, but he did not trust him. He did not trust him, either as regarded the means he might use to influence the delicate nervous mother and her children towards a change of faith, or as regarded the end he had in view in desiring such a change.