Ellen gave one glance towards her mother—it answered all her wishes; she turned, deeply blushing, to Mr. Belmont, and timidly, yet with an air of perfect confidence, tendered him her hand; she would have spoken, but the variety of emotion so suddenly called forth by the departure of her brother, and the declaration of her lover, overpowered her, and he received thus a silent, but a full consent to his wishes.
In the mean time, Edmund had conquered the more immediate pang that laboured at his heart, and, entering the library, had grasped the hand of Charles, and uttered a few words of congratulation, but it was in a voice so broken, that there was more of sorrow than joy in it.
Charles had not the slightest doubt of his brother’s affection, he did not therefore doubt for a moment the sincerity of his assertion, but he was persuaded that the idea of his own situation, as being two years older, and yet likely to remain dependent on his father for some years, was a sensible mortification to him; and, feeling for his situation, he said—“Ay, my dear fellow, there is a difference between us now, sure enough; but there is no doubt of your doing well by and by; besides, you are the eldest, and deserve to be so; I am sure father can never do too much for such a son as you are, Edmund.”
Edmund gazed in astonishment to hear Charles express himself with so much ease, at a time when he expected his heart must be overpowered with trouble; his fears lately excited by the agitation and warmth with which Charles had vindicated Matilda, and the unguarded exclamation of Ellen, who evidently thought her younger brother the favourite, now took another turn; he surveyed Charles; he was just twenty-three—a tall, handsome young man, and one who had ever been admired by the ladies. “Perhaps,” said he, “internally, poor Matilda loves him, but without having her affection returned: this accounts for the many great offers she has refused, for the sympathy of Ellen, who knows her heart, and for the vindication she undoubtedly made to him last night; whereas to me she was cold and unintelligible.”
While these painful thoughts rankled in the mind of the young barrister, his happy brother was flying all over the house, receiving from the servants the mixed congratulation of joy in his success and sorrow for his departure; he had also joined the coterie in the parlour, wrung the hand of his future brother-in-law, kissed his mother and Ellen, and thanked his father twenty times for all his generous cares, before Edmund could muster philosophy enough to join the family, and listen to its arrangements for the day.
It was at length agreed that Edmund should assist his mother in making up a package of books, &c., for the traveller, who, accompanied by Belmont, should visit the city for necessary arrangements; and Mr. Harewood, who knew that Ellen would naturally wish to see Matilda, agreed to accompany her thither, being at once desirous to communicate this various intelligence to Mrs. Hanson, and to witness the effect Charles’s departure would have upon Matilda, whom, at the bottom of his heart, he certainly desired to have for a daughter, although he would have rejoiced in her alliance with any worthy man.
We return now to the young ladies in the dressing-room, each eager to hear and to speak, yet each oppressed, though very differently, with solicitude. At length, Ellen, her breast labouring with sighs, and fear lest she should wound the heart of her friend, thus spoke: “We are going to lose Charles: he has got an appointment, Matilda.”
“And is he pleased with it, Ellen?”
“Oh, yes! he seems quite happy: he is running all over the house, just in his old way, and the servants are all laughing and crying about him, as if he were still a school-boy.”
“I am heartily glad of it—he has my sincerest good wishes, and I feel certain of his success.”