"Thank you," replied his uncle, "I feel that the late unhappy accident has much changed you; and what you now say convinces me that the change is one which, however it may sadden you, cannot be regretted."
"I hope not," replied Clair, in the same tone of depression; "can you understand what I mean, when I say that I feel, that, though I had no intention the other evening beyond causing a momentary pain, which, in a beautiful girl I thought charming, I yet feel that I have been so thoughtless of the comfort of others, during my past life, that I have deserved to be the agent of such a misfortune, in retribution, as it were, for all that has before gone unpunished. Little Amy's sweet voice rings in my ear wherever I go—such as it was when I first saw her, when she looked up from the wild wreath she was twining, to give some kind word to the laborers as they passed her, the morning after my coming here. Her simple questions return to my memory, and her purity and innocence have made a deeper impression on my mind, by the sad reverse which has followed my acquaintance with her family—I cannot help thinking what an interesting young woman she might have been, through the careful training of such a sister, who has planted in her mind, young as she is, her own childlike tenets of religion. When I reverse the picture, I see her growing up a weak unhappy cripple, perhaps, sinking under accumulated disease, the victim of an early grave. Can you wonder that I am changed, uncle, and that I now find the follies and amusements, in which I have too often sought forgetfulness of the weakness of my own heart, now utterly repulsive to me? When I see Mabel Lesly forgiving without reserve, and enduring without complaint, sorrow which would have found me in a very different temper, can you doubt, dear uncle, that, contemplating such rare and beautiful virtues, I have been led to seek the cause, and to find out on what basis they are founded; and, while raising my thoughts to the source and spring of every true virtue, and pouring its healing waters on my soul, must I not shudder to discover there, nothing but pollution, and feel depressed and sad, with the sense of what I am, and what I have been.
"Yet do not think this dejection is attended with anything like despair; no one, who had conversed with your sweet friend, would long retain such a feeling. A few words, indeed, from her, while they convinced me of the aimless existence I have been rather enduring, than living, gave me an inspiring principle which spoke of better things. You may think I am suddenly turned into an imaginary, but you can scarcely tell how deep an impression this late accident has left upon me."
"Not so," replied Mr. Ware, "the heart that awoke to chivalry in other days, is not dead because chivalry has assumed another form—and, indeed, we too often try to be lukewarm in our feelings. But, to be candid, my dear Arthur, I do think, as you say, that too much of your time has been trifled away in the pursuits of garrison glory, and watering-place amusements. I have been, for some weeks, patiently waiting for some season or time, when I could enforce the necessity of sowing a richer harvest for the decline of life, than you have hitherto been doing. Could I have chosen some other less touching call to wakefulness, I would have done so; but these things are not in our own disposing—it only belongs to us, to use well the circumstances and opportunities which are given us; and I was even now going to say what you have anticipated. Grateful, indeed, am I to think, that, even so trying a time, can yield its sweetness, for I hope you speak of your feelings without any exaggeration."
Mr. Ware paused, but, as Clair did not seem disposed to reply, he continued—
"There is one subject in which I feel particularly concerned—may I—I ask it as a favor—may I speak candidly upon it?"
"You may speak with candour on any subject, sir, without fearing that I shall be weak enough to take anything but in good part."
"Thank you for this confidence. May I then ask if you are quite sincere in your attentions to Miss Villars? and, if so, why your behaviour has so decidedly changed with regard to her? Forgive me for asking so delicate a question, which nothing but the interest I take in your happiness could excuse."