Amongst all the curses pronounced against the rebellious Israelites, few, perhaps, in reality far exceeded that one—"Cursed shalt thou be when thou comest in." It struck to the very heart of domestic peace, destroying that sanctuary, which, dark as the world around may be, we look to as a shelter and a solace. If the curse be there, what other blessing can reach us with any effect!
Such was the punishment which the cautious, wily woman of the world had been so carefully storing up for herself—for this she had chained her own temper—for this she had submitted to many weary vexations—for this she had been lavish in indulgence, even when her tired spirit would have willingly—so she believed—have turned from the cunning and fatiguing artifices of perpetual deceit—for this she had entered "into the fields of the fatherless," to find, only too late, that "their Redeemer is indeed mighty."
The curse for which she had so strenuously laboured, had entered into her very household, and her own daughters were turned against her.
Colonel Hargrave found Mrs. Villars in tears when he went to explain his wishes, and the reasons which led him to desire an early and private marriage.
"Take her when you like, and the sooner the better," exclaimed the goaded woman; "I care not when, and I only wish you could take away the ill she has brought with her."
Colonel Hargrave, who was accustomed to nothing but flattery in that house, felt a little surprise at the boldness with which the veil was now thrown aside.
"I hope," he said, at length, "that you will allow her to remain with you for the next three weeks. I wish this as a favour, because I would not have her forced to seek the protection even of old friends, at such a time—but I may as well add, that I know as well as yourself how little you have done your duty to your sister's orphan, and I make this the only condition which will force me to keep silence on the subject."
"Give me that promise and you shall not have cause to complain," said Mrs. Villars, apprehensively.
"It is yours," he returned, with great self-possession, which contrasted well with her pale face, and conscience stricken manner. "It is my particular wish," he added, "that our marriage should be as simple as possible, on account of the circumstances, which attend it. Any undue display would only hurt Mabel's feelings, as her year of mourning is not ended; but alone and friendless as she is, without a home at command, I say, with no hesitation, that the only thing she can do is, to accept that one which will ever hold her as its most honored mistress. But as even a private marriage may put you to some inconvenience, you must allow me the pleasure and privilege of providing against it."