With comeliness of looks and words compare?
Those for a while may the affections gain,
But these, these only, can the heart retain.”
“Miss Hamilton’s carriage!” called out a waiter, just as Edmund had uttered the last words; and Matilda rose, delighted to be released from the purgatory in which she had sat. On arriving home, she found only the old housekeeper sitting up for her, and she hastened to her chamber, glad to think she was at length to be alone. As she entered the room, her own figure, reflected at full length in the large dressing-glass, met her view; and she was startled at the contrast between her splendid attire and the mental wretchedness displayed in her countenance. Should the artist we have employed to depict her as she stood before her truthful mirror, succeed in giving expression to the feelings of mortification, shame, and humiliation, which rankled at that moment in her breast, we are sure that it cannot fail to present a striking lesson to our young readers.
How insufficient did she find the wealth, splendour, and consequence on which she had hitherto prided herself, to restore her self-respect, or blind her to the superiority of one whom she had treated with such undeserved contempt!
“Oh, Rosalba!” she exclaimed in a tone of deep feeling, “what would I not give, to exchange situations with you at this moment! How much do I envy you the respect and affection that all seem so anxious to testify towards you! and how happy should I be, could I learn your art of winning it!”
“Shall I tell you how you may gain it, Matilda?” asked a voice behind her, that made her start; and looking round, she saw an old lady—a distant relative of the family, who was, at the time, on a visit to Mrs. Hamilton, and, having heard Matilda come in, and concluding that she was much fatigued, had come to offer her assistance in undressing, and had by that means become an unintentional listener to the young girl’s soliloquy. Never was offer of assistance more à propos; for Matilda’s proud spirit was humbled, and in a right frame to receive admonition. Throwing herself therefore, on the neck of her friend, she exclaimed, “Yes, dear Aunt, advise, reprove, and assist me, for I am wretched.”
“Reproof, my child,” said the old lady, as she pressed the now weeping girl to her bosom, “you have little need of, for I understand the kind of an evening you have spent, and am persuaded you are already sufficiently punished. Neither do you need any other assistance than that of your own natural good sense. Let me therefore advise you to call it into action, and accustom yourself to remember that the advantages of birth and fortune are altogether adventitious, and though they may obtain for you a cold and distant respect, they never will gain the love of a single being. But seek to learn the law of love, and above all, accustom yourself to practise that divine rule of doing as you would be done unto, and you will soon find yourself surrounded by affectionate hearts, and feel that peace within, which no external circumstances can supply.”
With many tears, Matilda promised to lay this gentle admonition to heart, and after a little more conversation she laid her head upon her pillow, with a mind composed and tranquillized by good resolutions, in regard to her future conduct.
“Did you ever see so altered a girl as Matilda Hamilton is?” said Edmund Wharton to his friend Lisle, one day, about a year after Isabella Ingersol’s ball. “I declare she is grown quite handsome.”