The mind of Harland now enjoyed a serenity hitherto unknown; the mildness of Louise, the increasing knowledge of her virtues, whilst they added to his love, softened the harshness of his manners: and, from experiencing the sweets arising from beneficence, he was taught to regard the happiness of others, as conducive to his own.
It was one of those evenings when the serenity of the heavens shed its influence on mankind, and harmonized the mind to happiness, that the Captain, with his youthful companions, after long enjoying the tranquil beauties of the declining day, retired to his cabin. The careful mariner, freed for a time from toil, reclined in easy repose on the deck, or carrolled his humble ditty, as he watched the different vessels, of which he might be deemed in part the safeguard. A transient peace possessed every bosom: when Harland, after a considerable pause, addressing his Louise, said—"I have often designed, my dear girl, to request some account of the occurrences attending your childhood; of which I have hitherto had a very imperfect knowledge: the present moment is favourable for the relation, which I think would prove equally gratifying to Sir Henry and our friends."
"There is not any thing in the account, Harland," replied Louise, "to repay your attention in the hearing: a monastic life affords but little variety."—However, as Sir Henry and Frederick joined in the request, she without farther hesitation complied.
"Of the manner in which I was left at the gate of the Convent, you have already, Harland, been informed. I was found there in the morning by the portress, and by her carried to the mother St. Claire, the venerable Abbess. The meanness of my clothes by no means accorded with the valuable miniature tied round my neck; but rather tended, as the worthy Abbess said, to show that my parents were actuated by shame, not poverty. She, however, hesitated not a moment to take me in, and, after an ineffectual search to discover the authors of my being, determined to rear me, and dedicate my life me to the God who had placed me under her protection.
"I was accordingly given to the care of a lay sister, who faithfully discharged her trust; and as my infant mind expanded, the Abbess became each day more partial to me. The friendship of the mother St. Claire was followed by the real or pretended love of the other inmates of the Convent, and I was soon the avowed favourite of all.
"Amongst those, however, who evinced a sincere regard for me, was the sister Françoise; between whom, and the venerable Abbess, my early affection was divided. Under their more immediate care, I was instructed in every useful and ornamental branch of education; and their approbation and praise were the rewards of my diligence. Thus passed my earlier days, unclouded with a sorrow; sister Françoise and the Abbess were all the world to me, nor knew I of one beyond the walls of the Convent.
"The frequent visits, however, paid to the other children by their friends, could not but lead me, at length, to reflect on the difference of my lot. No father, no mother, ever inquired for me; and the first sigh that ever swelled my bosom, was for those relations, whom fate prohibited me from ever knowing."
A half-stifled sigh escaped Sir Henry; which was gently returned by Louise, who, after a moment's pause, again proceeded.
"Sister Françoise soon observed, and learned the cause of my dejection. 'You have no acknowledged parents, Louise,' she said; 'but I will be your mother, and you shall love me as a daughter.' She burst into tears; I kissed them off her cheek as she embraced me, and, pleased with the idea of mother, soon regained my cheerfulness. From that time, I became the nearly inseparable companion of sister Françoise: I addressed her by the name of mother, I believed her such, and fully did her tenderness authorise the title.
"It was not till I was fourteen, that mother St. Claire put into my possession the miniature found with me, and informed me of the circumstance which had placed me under her protection, and of her intentions that I should take the veil. The latter intelligence, repugnant as it was to my inclinations, affected me less than the knowledge of my orphan state. 'And is not sister Françoise then my mother?' I would have asked; but tears impeded my utterance; and, throwing my arms round the neck of St. Claire, I wept in silence. She tenderly embraced me; and when the violence of my grief was abated, exhorted me to resignation to the state that Providence had assigned me; and explained the reasons which rendered a life of seclusion necessary to one, who without friends could only look for infamy and destruction in the world.