“Yes, you are Lord Sereton now.”
“And shall I have all the money, mamma, and the houses, and that beautiful park which I once went to see, and the carriages, and the horses, and the—the—all the beautiful things? Oh, yes, I shall, I know I shall. I am so glad—I am so happy. Lord Sereton was only papa’s third cousin, I know, but I am the next heir.”
“And do you feel no shock”—said Mrs. Sidney, rising and laying her hand on her son’s shoulder, while she spoke almost with a shudder;—“do you feel no shock at the awful sudden deaths of three estimable individuals—no compassion for the bereaved widow and mother? and, beyond all, do you not feel deeply conscious of the additional responsibilities and the heavy duties which become yours with this accession of wealth and rank? Oh, Charles, it is hard for a mother to wish such a thing for a son, yet, unless the Most High would change your heart,
I could pray that this wealth might not be yours. Oh, my son, let me beseech you to humble yourself before His throne, and ask His grace and assistance.”
But Charles, or as we may now call him, the young Lord Sereton, at no time rendered anything but lip service to his God. It is easy enough to do this, though such prayers never mount to heaven, but fall back to the earth from which they spring. Prayers, to be acceptable to God, must arise from a devout frame of mind, and be accompanied by a diligent endeavour to acquire that grace for which we ask, while by our actions we must show the sincerity of our hearts. “That ye cannot serve two masters,” was fully illustrated in his case; and he, the slave of Mammon, was lured on with the vain expectation that his new wealth would bring happiness!
Of course, during the minority of the young lord, the guardians whom the law appointed took care of his property and estates; but, boy as he was, large sums of money were still at his disposal, and he was old enough to have considerable influence with those who had legal authority over his fortune. His treasures, however, were a sort of “enchanted wealth,” which,
as he used it, or rather did not use it, was as valueless as a bag of gold to the thirsty traveller in the desert, who cannot procure with it a glass of water; and certainly happiness, according to Charles’s plan, was as completely out of his reach.
As he rode or walked over his estates, no face was there which lighted up with grateful pleasure, as would have been the case at the approach of a generous and kind young landlord; no, he was miserable himself, because he never attempted to make others happy. Tutors were to a certain degree forced upon him by his guardians, or I really believe he would have neglected to pursue those studies which he before followed, much more as the means of acquiring future wealth, than for love of themselves.
And so time passed on, Mrs. Sidney often spending a week or month at her sister’s pretty cottage, where, surrounded by the kind-hearted generous family, she could not but contrast that happy home with the splendid misery of Sereton Hall; an abode rendered melancholy to her by its young owner’s selfish and avaricious nature.
It had been the custom for many generations,