Ethel Churchill

“ Ethel and Mr. Courtenaye both walked on in silence, both careless of what direction they took, and solitary, even in that glittering crowd, each alive only to the other's presence. At length each stopped, as if moved by a sudden and mutual feeling; perhaps Ethel, unconsciously, obeyed the movement of Norbourne, to whom the quick, silent walk, had become intolerable. On his part, there might, also, have been a little intention; for nothing could be more lonely than the nook where they paused. ”

“ Churchill, with an air of calm approval; "young ladies ought never to consent till they are asked."
"But when I am asked," said Ethel, more impetuously than she had ever said any thing in her life before, "I have only a refusal to give."
"Very right that you should say so now," replied her grandmother; "but let me caution you against taking any foolish fancies into your head, as if you could be allowed the same choice in a husband that you are in a riband."
"I cannot, will not marry him!" sobbed Ethel. ”

“ Ethel's graceful figure, seated at her grandmother's feet, completed the picture; and any one who had looked casually into that cool and cheerful chamber, would have thought it a very shrine of household happiness. And Ethel, if not happy, was calm—almost content; every day brought its duties, sweetened by affection; and, in her grandmother's comfort she found her own.
Mrs. Churchill had given up urging Ethel into a round of gaiety, which suited neither her health nor her spirits. ”

“ Soon—how soon it appeared to come!—the day appointed for Miss Churchill's marriage arrived. With a faint shudder, she looked from her window. The whole garden was bathed in sunshine; a light wind stirred the branches, which seemed filled with singing birds: she turned away; the light and the music were painful to her. Who has not felt this exaggeration of the sick heart, which reproaches inanimate nature with its lack of sympathy, which turns from the golden light of day, from the cheerful sights and sounds that fill the open air with rejoicing, as if the gladness only mocked their misery! ”

“ Dear Lord Norbourne,—I regret having to communicate what has been the result of my conversation with Miss Churchill; I am afraid that all women are a little unforgiving, when the inconstancy of a lover is to be pardoned. I see clearly that nothing will induce her to listen to Mr. Courtenaye. Ethel is gentle and timid, but there is, also, a degree of firmness, for which I did not give her credit. The sooner the matter is put an end to, the better. Life presents too brilliant an aspect to Mr. Courtenaye, not to console him for a single disappointment ”

“ The darling, like Henrietta, of an aged relative, their training had been widely different. Half Ethel's life had been spent in the flower-garden; and it was as if the sweetness and joyousness of the summer's sunny children had infused themselves into the being of their youthful companion. The open air had given strength to an originally delicate frame, and cheerfulness to her mind. ”

“ There is to age something so enlivening in the company of youth, unconsciously it shares the cheerfulness it witnesses, and hopes with the hopes around, in that sympathy which is the kindliest part of our nature. Even his young neighbour who so often shared his studies, had departed—Walter Maynard had gone to London. Nor was the house of the Churchills less altered. Their young kinsman had received a sudden summons from his mother, on the occasion of his uncle, Lord Norbourne's visit. Ethel sat lonely on the little lawn, where every thing had altered almost as much as her own feelings. ”

“ I have offered to become security that Mrs. Churchill has done with treasonable correspondence. She will not yet be permitted to return to the Manor House: it is too convenient for 'treasons, stratagems,' &c.; and it is as well not to be put in the way of temptation: but she will be allowed perfect liberty in London. Something of a fine is still talked of; but even that, I hope, will be remitted."
"How kind you are!" exclaimed Lady Marchmont; but Ethel found no voice to speak. Lord Norbourne took her hand very kindly, and placed her in the carriage. ”

“ Alas! as Lady Mary says, 'To my extreme mortification, I grow wiser every day!'"
"I do not know," said Ethel, with a deep sigh, "whether I am wiser, but I am not happier than I used to be; I am not so happy!"
"The future owes you recompense," answered her companion; "at all events, there is a great deal of pleasure before you, if you come out as a beauty and an heiress: I trust that Sir Robert will decree that you shall be set in gold!" ”

“ At the period of her death she was rapidly rising in all that could gratify a lady and an authoress—in general estimation, in public honour, in increasing respect—as well as in the more matured development of her genius, made evident in her prose compositions. "Ethel Churchill" is, indeed, a work of beauty and talent, for which it would be hard to find a parallel in the history of female authorship. And then, when the prospect of her taking a place in her land's language was within her sight—then she died. The promise of her life was unfulfilled:—
"'Life is made up of miserable hours ”

“ It was so long before she recovered, that her chair was ready first: and, startled at the announcement, she hastened to ask her grandmother's permission for her visit. It was instantly granted; for Mrs. Churchill had always liked Walter, and had taken a personal satisfaction in his literary success. It was a compliment to her discernment. If ever we forgive another's celebrity, it is when it fulfils our own prophecy. But to have him, who had been a little child playing at her feet, dying in desolation and misery, roused every kindly feeling. ”

“ The quick glance of the actress followed her look. "Ah!" said she, "you have been reading his works: he will write no more beautiful verses to you; for he is dying—dying, too, in miserable want!"
"My God!" cried Ethel, springing from her seat, "let us go to him!—what can we do? Let me find my grandmother!"
Lavinia gently detained her. "Walter Maynard," continued she, "is far beyond all human help; his days—ay, his very hours are numbered: but you may fling over them one last gleam of human happiness."
"I!" cried Ethel. ”

“ There was an habitual sarcasm on Lady Marchmont's finely cut lip, and Ethel's smile had grown into a sad sweetness. On the brow was a deeper shadow—serious and thoughtful. The glad bursts of laughter, the gay fantasies, the buoyant hopes, which they used to meet and share together, were all gone by for ever.
The servants removed the tea-things, and they drew nearer to the fire, and to each other. Both had a great deal to say, and yet the conversation languished; but we have all felt this after a long absence: confidence is a habit, and requires to be renewed. ”

“ I will not talk to you, because I know it would be in vain, of the advantages of the connexion; for I believe too late, that nothing in marriage can supply the want of affection: but, Ethel, you love him!"
"I did!" replied the other, coldly.
"Nay, you do!" continued the countess. "Forgive me, dearest, if I seem to say more than even our old friendship would warrant; but do let me implore you, not from any mistaken pride—nay," seeing Ethel about to speak, "I will not be interrupted—do not, from mistaken pride, throw your happiness away from you. ”

“ Poor Henrietta has no friend in the world but myself. Hopeless as her madness is, though she knows me not, my presence soothes her; and with me she is gentle as a child."
"Incurable insanity!" exclaimed Norbourne, "violent or melancholy, it is an awful visitation on one so young, so beautiful, and so gifted!"
"God grant," said Ethel, "that her sufferings in this world may be her atonement in the next. As far as human skill can say, years, long years, are before her. To us, Norbourne, she will be as a sister, is it not so?" ”

“ Fearful were the lessons that the young and gentle Ethel learnt in the house of mourning. She saw Lord Marchmont borne away to his grave, unfollowed by a single regret, and forgotten as soon as the coffin was closed. The selfish man left behind him neither sorrow nor affection; he was summoned away, and his place knew him no more. But the bed-side of Lady Marchmont had a darker lesson than the grave, the ravings of insanity revealed the fiery world of that beating and passionate heart. Ethel could only feel too fearful, too humbled, for judgment ”

“ I take it for granted that the Courtenaye property was involved, and that its heir had no means of freeing himself but by a marriage with his cousin."
"He must have known that before he knew me," said Ethel, coldly.
"I am not," exclaimed Lady Marchmont, "seeking to defend conduct as heartless as it was cruel. Your youth, your ignorance of the world, your touching confidence in himself, should have made your happiness too sacred for a moment's trifling. But we live in a hard and unkind world, and every hour I see some new proof of how little we regard the feelings of each other ”

“ The duchess received them with a gracious inclination of the head; and, after signing to Mrs. Churchill to take the arm-chair, she extended her hand for Ethel to kiss. Silence was then broken by inquiring how Mrs. Churchill bore the fatigue of the journey?
"I never felt it," replied the old lady, who was elated with all the dignity of a martyr; "there are times when the mind forgets the body."
Ethel could not help smiling when she recollected how her grandmother had slept or grumbled the whole journey in her very comfortable carriage. ”

“ Trevanion and Miss Churchill was a family affair, arranged without the slightest regard to the young lady's feelings, which Mr. Trevanion well knew were interested by another."
A sudden turn in the walk brought them face to face with Lord Marchmont and Ethel, to whom the countess whispered a few words in a low voice. A flush of pleasure came over the listener's face.
"Trevanion," exclaimed Sir George, "might have spared all his anxiety on Miss Churchill's account. She looks as if the news were only too good to be true." ”

“ Her face, though thin and pale, bore the traces of great former beauty; and, although Ethel was sure that she had never seen the lady before, yet there was something in her features strangely familiar.
The colour came rapidly into her cheek: her heart told her the face now before her brought the memory of one still too dearly remembered—it was Norbourne Courtenaye that it recalled; the likeness was, despite the difference of sex and age, singularly striking.
What a vain thing is forced forgetfulness! ”

“ Mrs. Courtenaye then rapidly sketched her previous history; and, long before it was ended, Ethel had bowed her face in her hands, and was weeping bitterly.
"Oh!" exclaimed she, "true and generous as ever! how I have misjudged him!"
"The atonement is in your own hands," said Mrs. Courtenaye; "you will let him see you this evening?"
"If he loves me still," whispered Ethel; but now she felt deep in her own heart, that affection knows no change, nor shadow of turning. ”

“ Courtenaye?" said Sir Jasper, who asked the question solely to give her an opportunity of expressing the emotion it was too much to restrain.
"He told me he loved me," replied Ethel, in a tone of hopeless dejection, which went to her companion's heart.
"My poor child," said he, "I can urge nothing to comfort you. It will not soften your suffering to know how common it is"
"Common!" exclaimed she.
"Ay, common—too common. Life has many dreams; all sweet, and all fugitive; but love is the sweetest and most fugitive of all. ”

“ There was a great show of gaiety; for the neighbourhood, being a dull and scattered one, any thing that wore the semblance of festival was doubly welcome.
Again Ethel felt how little sympathy was there with her sadness. A thousand wild plans of escape even now flitted across her mind; but they were vague and confused fancies, which she lacked the energy, even if she had had the power, to execute. A dull sense of suffering weighed upon her heart. She heard voices, she saw faces, but they produced no impression upon her ”

“ Change is slow and strange in the social and the natural world, it requires some great convulsion to alter the aspect of either; but, in the hidden and inward world,—there it is that change does its work; we marvel to find how ourselves are altered, while every thing seems to have remained the same around us; but decay always begins at the heart.
Mrs. Churchill being settled in London, Ethel had come out as a beauty and an heiress, and was brilliantly successful in both capacities. ”

“ But Ethel's was a nature essentially unfitted to the cold and glittering life of society; gentle, timid, and dependent, her world was in the affections; those blighted and destroyed, existence was a blank, nothing remained wherewith to fill up the weary void.
The intercourse between her and Lady Marchmont was constant and affectionate, yet there was but little confidence. They were too different: Ethel had not Henrietta's information, nor her talents; and Henrietta scarcely comprehended the want of them. Lady Marchmont was now in the most brilliant hour of her life ”

“ Out of these stately impossibilities, she had constructed an existence of her own, full of love, courage, and fidelity: all highly pictuesque and highly false. No matter—the truth comes only too soon.
And so, when Norbourne Courtenaye, a distant connexion of the family, arrived in a course of careless wandering at their house, it seemed the most natural and fitting thing that he should fall in love with Ethel. ”